Sheek's Vibe: The Calling

My first Day 1. My still A1.

You told me in Open Rebuke 3, “The devil wanna break your pen, you better keep writing.”

So this one’s for you.

I love you to life, Brudda. Put That on Everything. I hope you enjoy your flowers.

I can remember when we were babies — and I mean seriously, like four and five — playing this game we made up where we’d memorize the Jet Top 20. Then, when we got a little older, we’d practice the choreography we made up to Brandy’s “Best Friend.” And then there was us sitting in Grandma’s living room, going back and forth in our own little cypher to Run-DMC’s “It’s Tricky.”

Now music drips off of us like sweat on a hot day.

Over the years, I’ve watched this brother — MY brother — transform from Arsanis, a teenage Westbank, New Orleans rapper whose lyrics were steeped in the streets, to Ro’eh Da Chef, a grown man who loves The Most High and his family.

Especially me.

I’m his favorite 🤷🏾‍♀️

When he wasn’t busy getting on our grandma’s nerves — Lord, You know — he was the one teaching me elements of rapping. He took one listen to my first attempt, “Straight Out the Basement” — don’t ask, I don’t know where that came from either, because we ain’t even have a basement — and was like, “Nah, Sister…”

And right there at Mae’s kitchen table, my little brother started telling me what all I needed in the pot, what I didn’t want in the pot, what different ingredients I could add if I wanted to, all the different ways I could make the dish, and who to look at for examples.

I’m forever a student, so I took my brother’s notes and went back to my notebook with my blue Bic.

Many moments later, Sheek the Shit was born.

And you know you gotta be nice with a name like that 😏

But this post isn’t about me.

It’s about the artist who inspired that artist.

My LIL brother, Ro’eh Da Chef.

For some reason, not only does he believe I’m his little sister, but he also believes I don’t listen to his art. Meanwhile, I’m over here memorizing every song like it’s the Jet Top 20 all over again.

I could always say my brother is a cold ass rapper — even when he was walking around our grandma’s house calling hisself Arsanis.

But this album right herrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrre?

Oh my God.

There’s cold.

And then there’s oh my God.

’Cause WHET?!

First off, from a vibe standpoint, he didn’t miss a single shot. The boy went 12/12 with this one.

Which one am I referring to?

Uhh, that would be The Calling.

This album doesn’t sound or feel like anything he’s ever done before. When I first got it, it lived on repeat and got me through plenty of shifts in the Upside Down. Freaking demo-dogs and bats running amok, but I’m vibing with my JBLs over my head and my imagination following The Calling.

Out the gate, “Honor The Calling” comes in commanding your undivided attention.

I’m talking, “I’m not playing. Get your ass in here, sit down, and listen” energy from the moment you hit play.

It pulls you into this black vortex that you float peacefully through until he grounds you in another world when the verse drops.

I’ve never heard him sound more clear, more honest, more vulnerable, or more brave than I hear him on this album. And “Honor The Calling” captures and sets the tone for The Calling perfectly.

Next, we slide into “Long Line.”

I call this the warm-up track. Ro’eh stretching before the game.

If Da Chef was gathering his pots and thangs in “Honor The Calling,” then he’s cutting the stove on to get it popping with “Long Line.” He even has my nephew featured as his sous chef, and he’s literally the cutest sous chef ever 🥰

Now the pots are starting to sizzle, so he adds the onions and peppers.

And by onions and peppers, I mean Da Chef and Anaviel The Servant together on “All Praise.”

Now, these two have cooked together before on “Die Once, Live Twice” from Ro’eh’s Darker Days, Brighter Nights album. So admittedly, the moment my album finished downloading, “All Praise” was my go-to because I already loved them together on “Die Once.”

So when it comes on, you’re listening intently at this point, trying to see where this is about to go.

Then boom.

ALL PRAISE!!

The hook drops in with the beat, and WHOOH!

If you don’t instantly turn this up, you’re not listening right.

The fellas did not disappoint on the flows, the beat is SICK, and that hook’ll have you praising God in your sleep.

After sautéing the onions and peppers, Chef turns the fire down a bit and starts cooking with “WOW” featuring Sàräh MiYäh.

This one comes in real cool, real smooth — just like my brother.

This song embodies his energy, the way we embody our grandfather’s energy. Just too cool, as Bae would say 😄

Chef’s walking on waves with this one, and the flows are very wavy. Even when they switch up, they still have this wavy cadence that swims through my body nicely.

With the lid on that pot, Chef lets it simmer while he prepares “Fredro Spirit 2” for the oven.

Immediately, you notice Fredro has a no-nonsense beat, so you’re not wondering where Chef’s going with this one.

You know shit just got real.

And once you taste the first bar, you’re here for it. The flow is so delicious, you can’t get enough of it.

Next, we got “Last Night” featuring Father Romar.

Chef’s mixing something up in his mixing bowl with this one. Just bars on bars on bars. Then he tastes it with the hook, then adds more bars until the joint hits just right.

Now, let’s call that first half Side A.

And what we’re gonna do now is flip this thang over like it’s 1993.

Side B opens with “Snares.”

If “Honor The Calling” transported us to another world, “Snares” propels us further into that world, where the conversation gets deeper.

The premise of the song is that something has Chef snared and won’t let him go. “Snares” is storytelling at its finest, journeying through Chef’s thoughts around exposing and fighting against his snares.

There’s no time for dancing when an artist is laying themselves bare like this.

You gotta put some respect on the artistry here.

Floating further through Chef’s world like a man on the moon, we encounter “IDWD” featuring Shamayam, another international listen.

This is one of those songs that’s so astonishing to witness, you can’t even sing along to it. Even if you know all the words, you gotta let them sing it.

“IDWD” leads us into “Intuitions,” and “Intuitions” feels like diary entries.

It feels like my brother calling my phone after midnight because he’s in the studio writing a song about our grandparents.

It’s deeply personal and healing.

Now “Lost” is even more personal.

This one feels like my brother is on God’s phone having confession, and then they go even deeper in “Sober Thoughts.”

No lie, “Sober Thoughts” felt so personal I low-key felt like I was listening to something I shouldn’t have been hearing.

Like I just was NOT minding my own business 🫣

That honest, brave vulnerability I mentioned earlier?

Yeah.

It hits its pinnacle here.

After the crescendo, Chef smooths The Calling out with “Not Worthy” featuring Tey Yahawadah, a love letter to The Most High.

Tey leans into a smooth melodic verse that transitions into an even smoother hook before Da Chef comes in with his undeniably dope flow.

It’s the perfect garnishment for this conscious, layered, and intimate experience.

What I love most about this particular project is that it’s all Ro, unapologetically.

And I don’t just mean his truths. I mean his personality.

I could hear him singing these hooks and melodies randomly around the house — loudly — for no reason other than they came to his head. Not caring who heard him or what they thought.

He’s doing him.

And I love seeing that part of him show up the way it did here.

What I admired most was the freedom in which Ro created this project.

There are no boxes to trap him, no lines to walk, no rules that feel like they belong to somebody else.

He just created what he wanted to create.

He sang when he felt like it.

Talked his shit when he felt like it.

And allowed the music to move through him like water, creating something really remarkable in the process.

In a lot of places, he sounds like my brother calling me only to bust out singing when I answer for the first three minutes.

Just playing.

But honestly? His playing here ended up being his secret weapon.

What I’m most proud of is the evidence of his growth as an artist.

From Arsanis to Ro’eh Da Chef, he’s always had bars.

It’s his gift.

It comes through and out of him like oxygen. He couldn’t turn it off if he wanted to.

As Auntie Irene would say, “It’s in him, on him!” 😄

He answered The Calling, and never turned his back on the gift The Most High blessed him with.

I don’t know how many of y’all know this, but my brother lives in that studio, constantly honing his craft. And The Calling is a super dope manifestation of his dedication to his art.

You don’t need my stamp, Brudda.

But The Calling is Chef’s kiss and a Certified Sheek Vibe.

5 Mic Classic, ya heard me.

Follow my boy @roehdachef to stay tapped in.

Be sure to get your copy of The Calling on Bandcamp, and vibe with us 😎

With love and light,

Ra’Sheeka Keonique

Founder of DOPE VIBEZ UNLIMITED

The brand built on unlimited love, peace & light