Written by Alex Lauer
When most people die, they instantly become more pure in the eyes of society. The grouchy lady down the street who swears at little kids becomes one of the most upstanding citizens, the bully who made high school a living hell for certain kids becomes the lion-hearted model student, and the mediocre become the extraordinary.
While I don’t usually have a problem with this, it has turned the celebration of the lives of the departed into a monotonous ordeal with a stale format.
If everyone is sanctified upon death it becomes easier and easier to overlook those who should be remembered, those who have left a fire on this earth that should be felt by all, and leave them solely in the memories of family members, if that. I fear that fate for local revolutionary and recently departed Michael Larsen.
On Oct. 17th, 2010, Michael Larsen, more commonly known as the Eyedea half of Twin Cities hip-hop group Eyedea & Abilities, was pronounced dead. While there are journalists, fans, and haters out there prying open every door and floorboard in search of the cause of death, you won’t find that anywhere here, so if that is what you’re craving you might as well give up now. This isn’t sensationalism; this is a remembrance, a look into his uncommon life rather than his unfortunate death. While I know more about Eyedea than the average college student, I did not have a personal relationship with him, leaving me with a scarcity of knowledge about who he really was and how he influenced those around him. To truly gain some insight into this lost artist, I looked to friends close to him, one deeply embedded in hip-hop culture, b-boy Jason Noer, and one from another way of life, fellow emcee Chris Keller.
As mentioned before, Michael Larsen is best known for his work in the hip-hop duo Eyedea & Abilities, but to even try and grasp a trace of who he was requires quite a bit more knowledge. An essential part of his legend comes from his battle emcee background. Most notably, people recognize him for winning Blaze Battle, a national emcee freestyle competition that was aired on HBO in 2000, when he was still underage. This aspect became an inseparable force throughout his life. While most popular emcees of our time shy away from this form of expression, undoubtedly because of its degree of difficulty and uncertainty, Michael put an overwhelming emphasis on battle, including it in his live shows and cyphering frequently with friends.
But there was far more to Eyedea than just battle rap and freestyle talent. Chris Keller, or Kristoff Krane, when performing, make sure that its not the only thing he is remembered for, offering up this advice to those who want to know more: “If you find something appealing in [Michael], then look deeply into his whole world and his whole approach.” This doesn’t require much effort either, for Larsen has released music under at least five different names: The Sixth Sense, Oliver Hart, Face Candy, Carbon Carousel, and Eyedea & Abilities. Within these you can find diversity uncommon to traditional emcees, for Carbon Carousel was an alternative/grunge rock group, Face Candy was an improvisational rap/jazz group featuring Chris Keller and others, and Larsen has been known to reach into all aspects of hip hop, too.
Well-respected b-boy Jason Noer noticed this upon their first meeting: “I met him as a b-boy, he had mad moves, and he was rhyming all the time.” It didn’t stop there either. As their friendship progressed, Jason noticed how Larsen was unlike anyone else within hip-hop culture, “Mikey was different because he evolved much faster . . . I still define myself as a b-boy and a hardcore hip-hop purist. Mike went beyond that . . .[he] was always interested in things outside of hip-hop. He only battled to get people to listen to E & A’s first album.” The talent he is known for most isn’t even the thing he was most passionate about.
Chris spoke about the first time he hung out with Michael, how he had invited him over to freestyle with him and another local rapper, Carnage. “He was very impressed with the way that I freestyled . . . I wasn’t brought up in the b-boy, hip-hop world . . . so I didn’t fall for that sort of stuff and I think that that’s what initially caught his attention, that he could learn something from me, but in return he was naturally a teacher to anybody he was in a relationship with,” Chris said. Michael brought Chris into the hip-hop world and honed his musical skills, while Chris helped him look at music from new perspectives. In a way,
Michael has passed on this developing form of hip hop onto Chris, one that doesn’t hold onto certain traditions, one that is free to flow, change, and incorporate new elements. It is devastating that at only 28, Michael had to leave this world, but with the short time that he had, it is remarkable what was accomplished. He has left his mark within the people here, and if it isn’t evident now, keep an eye out and an ear open, because it will be.