Scribe is Dead
By Scribe
The strings are ominous, the waves lapping at the shore a portent. It opens less like a new album from Aotearoa’s most famous – and most troubled – rapper and more like a big-budget true crime documentary. Soon, there’s a spoken word introduction and a clip from a 2017 TV news report. Then the confessions begin, the kind that sound like our subject is staring down the lens of a Netflix camera. “My broken heart’s still bleeding,” spits Malo Luafutu, aka Scribe. “I spent all night with my demons.”
Drowning is the first song on Scribe is Dead, Luafutu’s third and purportedly final album, and it sets the tone for what’s to come. If you’re here for another dose of the fiery chart-toppers that saw Luafutu help usher in a new era for Aotearoa hip-hop in the mid-2000s, you’ll see only occasional glimpses. Luafutu’s not in the mood to repeat the verbal dexterity of Stand Up or get his friends in to help out on another banger like the Not Many remix. “Everything I want to say is in the music,” says Luafutu in a single social media post to promote the album.
That means Scribe is Dead is no easy listen. Luafutu gets heavy in the album’s 14 songs, diving deep into his torment. That means lyrics that cover his fame and his infamy: drug abuse, jail time, friendship fallouts, financial problems and personal failings. “No fairy tale ending, got a jail sentence pending,” he raps on the title track. “I was down and out for the count,” he says on Non-Attachment. Over atmospheric, hazy and introspective production, Luafutu is humble, reflective and often just straight-up sad.
The good news is that Luafutu remains an insightful lyricist and sharp rapper. On Don’t Worry, he trades bars with Mareko of Deceptikonz – the South Auckland crew who did their own retirement album in 2022 – and the results are scintillating. Destiny is a heaving, bass-heavy emotional journey. Arriving at the midpoint, G.G. offers a brief dance-pop intermission that suggests Luafutu knows things have become a tad too heavy.
Yet over successive listens it’s not the guest spots or sparkling production that stand out. Instead it’s what Luafutu has to say. With mumbles, whispers and distorted vocals, Scribe is Dead has more in common with rap confessionals from Kanye West (808s and Heartbreaks) and Jay Z (4:44) than any of Luafutu’s previous work.
It all builds to the album’s last track, and its best. Over a shimmery, beatless soundscape, Luafutu matches the past to the present in short, concise bursts. “Always wanted what I couldn’t get, growing up with less made me want the best,” he raps, helping explain some of his later missteps. Soon he gets out of the way and the song falls into a glitchy, twitchy mess.
Luafutu says this is his last album, he won’t be doing any interviews and he’s now retired from hip-hop. If it’s true, his final song sounds like a mix of acceptance, maturity and perhaps a touch of hope. Its title is the only one on the album written in all capitals. It’s called HOLDING ON.
Scribe is Dead is available digitally and on CD.
