Of all the musical genres out there, hip-hop seems the most unforgiving when it comes to second acts. Once their moment in the sun is done, hip-hop artists tend to disappear into the aether. Thus, it’s rather notable that Ishmael Butler has managed the seemingly impossible task of a successful comeback. Butler made quite the splash as Butterfly in the Digable Planets. But after that group’s sophomore album, Blowout Comb, failed to make the same commercial impact, Butler largely stayed quiet, with the exception of the short-lived and fairly obscure Cherrywine project. It seemed a safe bet that he’d just return to private life, but the emergence of Shabazz Palaces shows that to have been a premature assumption. The group, which also features multi-instrumentalist Tendai Maraire, released a dense, abstract experimental as their debut. Black Up seemed the least likely to succeed, yet it captured critical and popular love. Now, the second chapter of that comeback is being written with their latest record, Lese Majesty (Sub Pop).

Other than a similar experimental nature, there’s nothing on Lese Majesty that feels like an attempt to recreate its predecessor. Structurally speaking, the album is divided into suites, with a number of GBV-length songs making up the bulk of the record. There seems to be at least a conceptual unity, even if it’s not quite a concept record proper. Whereas Black Up seemed to use traditional hip-hop sonics as the occasional anchor, here Shabazz Palaces lean into the psychedelic elements of their arsenal. It’s the type of record where the instruments take to the forefront while the vocals are slightly submerged in the mix. It’s a midnight record that spiritually is a companion piece to Maxwell’s similarly minded sophomore album, Embrya.

One of the unquestionable highlights of Lese Majesty is Butler’s head-scratchingly dense construction of rhymes. It’s the type of thing where some parts jump out immediately while others will need repeated play and perhaps a seminar. It’s like a one-man distillation of Outkast’s Big Boi and Andre 3000 while shot through Butler’s own particular outer space prism. He can drop some everyday dude stuff and then in the next breath spit a super futuristic line that will take a fortnight to properly unpack. It’s something that was similarly on display on Blowout Comb, but it’s now been pushed to the next level. However, none of Lese Majesty would work if Maraire wasn’t similarly adept at constructing a crazy quilt of soundscapes to support, spar with, and push Butler. There isn’t much in the way of straight ahead bangers, but it’s not so abstract that it lacks the head nod factor. Lese Majesty is not the future of hip-hop, but it’s a futuristic sound that will make you glad that the future is now.