“Giving back to the poor / that’s what you call beautiful” – Ka, “Beautiful”
It was just over two years ago that one of the most gifted/unique/gruff-sounding rappers, Ka, birth name Kaseem Ryan, departed. He lived from August 11, 1972 to October 12, 2024 and although the circumstances of his death are mysterious outside of online message board speculation, I won’t go into it here because that’s not how I want to remember Ka. No, I’d rather celebrate dude’s body of work, which was somewhat extensive. He was pretty prolific and by my count put out nine studio albums in his own name (Ka); plus one album in collaboration with producer Preservation under the name Dr. Yen Lo (with an EP from the two of them too, but I think that’s released as “Ka”); and then one more album with producer Animoss under the name Hermit and the Recluse. That was within a period of just 16 years before his passing.
That last mentioned album, Hermit and the Recluse’s Orpheus vs. the Sirens from 2018 is possibly the greatest of his releases and, at least recently, has been my go-to Ka album – it gets the most spins on a day-to-day basis for sure. It feels like every song hits with full force and there’s no slack to be found. Admittedly I don’t know much about the producer Animoss but I found he produced tracks for Roc Marciano and Navy Blue and especially the couple Navy Blue ones are fire. (Navy Blue’s “Breathe” is worth checking out anyway because it features Yasiin Bey (FKA Mos Def) but I digress.)
I first heard Ka on the GZA album Pro Tools, way back in 2008, on “Firehouse”, where GZA comes in for the chorus and then gets back out quick, letting Ka shine for the whole track and make a name for himself. It’s maybe valuable to me for being the first Ka song I ever heard, an excellent introduction, and also just a great song on its own. “Firehouse” just stands out from the rest of Pro Tools, which is a decent if not particularly memorable album otherwise – GZA had done his more groundbreaking work before that point. The track’s sample features what sounds like a violin tremolo riff with a catchy bassline that bounces over a relaxed drum beat (a sample of an old 1969 R&B single, “Let’s Prove Them Wrong” by Debbie Taylor.)
GZA had sparked a great interest in me before, not only for his own dark narrative lyrics over excelent RZA beats on 1995’s Liquid Swords, but also for that album’s “B.I.B.L.E. – Basic Instructions Before Leaving Earth.” That track is a direct showcase for Wu-Tang Killa Bee Killah Priest, who waxes religious with not even a cameo by GZA himself despite closing GZA’s album. Killah Priest has been incredibly prolific like Ka, in fact much more so. I’m not really doing the math but AlbumOfTheYear.org lists 36 Killah Priest studio albums, and I believe them because I remember release after release from the man, trying to keep up with the best of the material (I’m nowhere near caught up at this point.)
So in my eyes both careers were sort of launched by GZA. I literally went into Liquid Swords to partake in the Wu-Tang member/Genuis’s knowledge and insights, and I came away also with Killah Priest on my radar; then into Pro Tools and knew right away that Ka had lyrics and a voice that would stick with me. And they have, for years.
Anyway, while I found both great rappers from the same source (who is himself a great rapper of course), I do want to highlight a significant difference between Killah Priest and Ka, and that’s the consistency of quality to Ka’s work, from the start on the sort-of underrated Iron Works (which actually preceded the GZA-album contribution) up until the end with The Thief Next to Jesus (released less than 2 months before his death.) I think that Killah Priest had more of a motor to get everything in his head out, all the time, throw it at the wall and see if it sticks. There’s a lot of great stuff in there, totally. But you have to sift through and see what you want to follow up on.
Ka’s style wasn’t like that. Yes he was prolific but from the get-go on that GZA joint “Firehouse”, he had a focused delivery, a particular sound that he would stick with for the rest of his career. He had a way of delivering verses calmly but never without an intense energy…and I’d dare say everything he put out is worth keeping on the playlist. It’s like where Killah Priest had some identity-searching between albums, Ka never had anything like that. Also Ka made the majority of his own beats, defining his own sound. On that note, Ka’s beats are catchy, simple repetitive loops over which his particular brand of calm-and-gravelly-voiced narratives shine. The formula works. He never really switched it up too far over all those albums, yet it still never felt tired to my ears.
I was fortunate enough to see Ka at Pitchfork Music Festival in 2014. In fact, though he performed among the earlier, shorter sets starting off the day, the sun still hanging high in the sky; and although the crowd was a little on the smaller end, what counts to me was that I could tell the audience members were into it. Ka connected us with his street-level stories with a confident delivery that left us wanting more once the set time was up.
At one point I remember I sent him a message on Facebook or some other online platform back in the day, and he actually responded…I told him he was awesome, and when he wrote back he called me “Fam” in a way where he seemed like he genuinely appreciated the support. And that was one of the coolest things ever for me. I mean Ka was never untouchable-famous per se but just that he took the time to appreciate a fan touched me and I’ll always remember that.
On that organic level of valuing a connection, Ka has stated that the rap thing was a passion project meant to be shared with his family and friends. This was something he could do and keep control over thanks to also having a full-time job. Interestingly, the poet we know was also a fire captain for 20 years with the Fire Department of New York (FDNY.) In fact he was a first responder when 9/11 happened. But he seemed in interviews to talk about the job as a means to an end to fund the music. That’s very relatable to me – the working-man vibe where one expresses oneself through whatever means make that possible.
Ka was one of a kind and the world will continue to miss his contributions to hip-hop.
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