Album Review: shadowbox, by MAVI

Released back in August, the third album from MAVI carried with it the mysterious edge of a grief-stained memory — the gifted rapper’s past trauma keeping him in the dark, in pain and ultimately disconnecting him from his true potential. 

The album’s binary, opposing forces show strength in numbers: night and day, shadow and light, communicating and breaking down, the sea and the land, sobriety and relapse. In a video for the single “the giver,” we see MAVI split across the panes of a window; approaching the same relationship from different angles and mental spaces drives home the project’s theme of shadow work, or exploring the quieted parts of the psyche to unearth the trauma that holds one back.  

Religion, water and light are essential imagery throughout, with opening cuts like “20,000 leagues” and “open waters” finding a treading, sometimes drowning young artist eager for the renewal that only a baptism can bring. Dredging up the past and living in it isn’t uncharted territory for the Charlotte lyricist, whose earlier projects touched on similar themes like substance abuse, imposter syndrome and struggles with communication. Those past explorations brought forward a darkness in MAVI that was only cut and twisted further by fame, after his 2021 album Laughing So Hard It Hurts erupted online and propelled him into spaces that catalyzed further bad behavior. Shadowbox is born out of that downward spiral, and shows a broken, but not bested, MAVI still equipped with the energy to swim back to shore. The metronome of his days ticks between soft and hard; he’s more concerned with survival than he is prosperity. 

MAVI centers his shadow work early on, but the bigger picture that emerges on the project is a tug of war between that shadow work and the growth that hasn’t yet come. It’s a sore spot certainly; but a bit of reprieve comes on “i did,” an uptempo TwoTone cut which paints the emcee as someone doing the work to unpack past trauma in a way that still saves room for his joy, transparency and silliness to peek through. For two minutes straight, MAVI rails off all the contradictions, white lies, desires and miscommunications that are weighing on his spirit. Speaking them into existence and letting them go in a way that’s reminiscent of Mac Miller’s Swimming, MAVI self-baptizes in transparency. 

Another moratorium comes on the track “latch,” which opens with a more proud, puffed up MAVI calling out, “oh, I’m back, baby.” That cheeky swag marries the dexterity of his pen with what comes at the bottom of a bottle. He follows through with: “I tried destroying mine to cleanse the boredom out my system/ I sit at borderline of luring corpses out my sickness/ I metamorphosized and made a course up out my trenches.” That last bar is everything: let this openness be a lesson that guides your own mental health journey, the same way it was for him. 

Afterwards on “drown the snake/drunk prayer,” we join a MAVI totally adrift, desperate to return to his shadow work. In a conversation with himself about the demon reflection of his inner child, he’s fixated, desperate for answers on how to kill that demon — fucking, talking, working, praying — what’s left? “I drink 'til I can't feel it. At least I think, 'cause I can't remember shit.”

The album closes with a gentle, Monte Booker-assisted track that develops intensely into an almost celebratory crescendo of patchy drums. Closing the loop for now, the precocious 24-year-old reminds himself to just be the best MAVI he can, and not to fixate on killing the demon. That ambiguity may be unsatisfying for some, but it also feels intentional — positioning shadowbox as the guide to the galaxy that sits between each of us and our own specific “better selves.” You’ll get out of this project what you put in. As suited for devouring in written form as it is sonically, this is a body of work that will cause you to question and challenge yourself deeply — and maybe, find a different you in the process. 

Gabby Bulgarelli is a music journalist based in Brooklyn who creates audio documentaries about hip-hop. You can hear her reporting on NPR’s Louder Than A Riot or Spotify’s Mogul. She's currently working freelance with clients such as Billboard Magazine, Wax Poetics, and Issa Rae's Raedio.