Finding Comfort In MFnMelo's 'Everybody Eats'
A public health crisis, social unrest, and an inescapable feeling of uncertainty have heightened our collective anxiety. With the whole world seemingly trying to find their own way to manage, MFnMelo’s 2019 album, Everybody Eats, has not only helped me cope with the stress but also provide a sliver of hope.
My days in quarantine have blurred while reading about the government’s gross mishandling of the pandemic and watching police systematically attack and murder the people they’re supposed to protect, all while trying to perform some semblance of productivity at my job. I’ve been privileged to stay in good health, live with my girlfriend and work from home, but I would be lying if 2020 hasn’t affected my psyche. To counter this restless feeling, I started running a few miles every day, caught up on books and even did 30 days of a vegan diet to try to get through this quarantine. However, nothing has benefited me as much as music, and during this dreadful summer, I’ve gone back to Everybody Eats a lot for its instilled wisdom and mindfulness.
The follow-up to Melo’s 2017 debut, MeloDramatics, and Pivot Gang’s 2019 album, You Can’t Sit With Us; Everybody Eats examines the delicate balance of taking care of yourself and being responsible for those around you. Muthafuckin’s verses are ostensibly entrancing non-sequiturs at a surface level, but their depth and knowledge are revealed after repeated listens and, for me, when they were needed the most. There are no lies detected when he raps “I give insight through the text,” a line delivered after summoning his confidence from lived experience rather than hubris “Not even here for the flex / you know its pain in these joints.”
The album holds the perfect blend of ruminative and motivational songs that could just as easily fit in the Headspace app as they do on Spotify. For every sedated cut like “Qari’s Interlude,” with its guitar licks providing room for reflection, there’s an animated counterpart like “Flow Seats” that’ll have you manifesting “carpe diem.” Enlisting a formidable list of producers that include Monte Booker, Daedaepivot, greenSLLIME and KyleTheEngineer allows Melo’s deep voice to melodically float while his lines sink in deep.
Trying to understand your role in other people’s life will often lead to new perspectives on yourself and Melo attests to this. “If they say they know me then they fraudulent / I’m just getting to know myself / the old me hid the flaws in em / new n---- know they part of his wealth,” the West Side native raps in “Yallwhadinthere,” allowing his vulnerability to become moments of emphatic lucidness. In “Notice,” he shares in a serene tone “Far from the boldest, hope you don’t notice / give it my all and a lil mo bit,” which led me to the comforting thought that even against a terrifying outlook, there’s still value in acting on what you can control.
The two songs that conclude Everybody Eats, “What A Life” and “Comatose,” are meditative embraces of life’s serendipity. There will be stretches of suffering (“I too worked through sorrow and still had to borrow more”), but not detached from joy (“Got a niece, and two lil' nephews, and they light my soul, man / That feelin' fire”). It’s important to acknowledge both extremes to be able to center yourself and this project has helped me immensely with that. By the time Akenya’s outro comes on, you can’t help but feel hopeful that better days are just around the corner.
Photography by Michael Salisbury
