Noah23

While Canada is quickly gaining respect as a place for unique, interesting experimentation in hip-hop manipulation, one rarely thinks of Guelph, ON as a hotbed of hip-hop talent. However, Noah23 and his Delta Wing drones are working hard to put Guelph on the weirdness map. The word association acrobatics of the Plague Language crew might remind some of the Shapeshifters' abstract alien paranoia and high-tech wordplay, but the techno-sorcery that these individuals promote is all their own. Although I am loathe to say any track is below par (in fact, most are far above), at 23 tracks long, Neophyte Phenotype tends to blur together, making it difficult to differentiate one track from another. There are some cuts that stand out from the pack: "I Shot Andy Warhol" gets the rump moving with a reggae feel; Toyeone produces two great tracks with "Jellyfish" (featuring Treevortex) and "Tertium Quid"; "Delta Wing Commanders" (featuring KGB72) is underground jiggy, and my personal favourite, the near drum & bass of "Revolt" (featuring Mofo) is truly revolting (in a good way, you know). The hip-hop scene in Canada is mutating. Wouldn't you rather be part of this evolution than just another Encino Man trying to comprehend his new surroundings? With artists like Noah23 popping up in towns and cities all across Canada, it will be just a matter of time. (Plague Language) - Thomas Quinlan May 2001

A 15 year vet, Noah 23’s newest project (Rock, Paper, Scissors) references the games, toys, and activities of children as a tool not for reflection but progression. His use of phrases, games, and activities from when he was a child is to illustrate how the interactions between people when they young in many ways remain consistent as they grow older. In turn, this connects to his commentary on the many, larger social issues he addresses throughout the album. With the tracks matching the number at the end of his name, Noah has plenty of room to tackle numerous styles from various angles. Noah is strongest when the songs are more somber and the hooks are more memorable (See “Tragic Comedy” and “Gothic Cathedral”). Featuring true underground MCs, Rock, Paper, Scissors feels like the result of an inspired cipher between artists hungry for the true romance of hip-hop. Although less tracks might have turned out to be thematically beneficial, the idea that the future has already happened by looking at the activities of the past is as haunting as it is poignant. - Jason Kordich

The face of Canadian hip-hop worldwide is often token-granted to the likes of Buck 65 and K-os, and, to a lesser extent, Kardinal Official and Swollen Members. With his fourth full-length, give or take a handful of self-released CDr, Rock, Paper, Scissors is another link in a mighty chain of Noah23 albums. References to Weezer, Jenga, Wacky Packages, and Andrew WK along side samples from The Matrix and the free space captain themed pinball game that used to come with Windows somewhat date the Halifax emcee, but as the title suggests, these collected rhymes are a stab at the childish things one more or less leaves behind before entering adulthood. Noah has been at it for about 15 years now. It is his time now.

Proving his cultural relevance, everyone from fellow canucks Cadence Weapon and Josh Martinez to Sole and k-the-i??? add their righteous words to the equation. Yet, outside of the folksy instrumental laid down by Jim Guthrie (Islands) on highlight “Torn Again” and the wistful, ghostly “Faded” refrain (something that places the track similar to something you’d expect from Anticon), the beats mostly stick in the comfort zone of MPC boom-bap we have come to expect from indie hip-hop, for good or ill. In the rich American scene, this record won’t stand apart enough for Noah to earn lasting recognition, but it easily ranks in the Canadian elite. Rock, Paper, Scissors is undoubtedly a solid album and holds its own on a global scale, but I cannot see it making any more of an impact than any of his other albums. And yet, maybe it’s better that way. He obviously has all the friends he needs, and struggle helps keep MCs more honest. Regardless of the current state, history will remember Noah23.
- Fimore Mescalito Holmes

Considered to be the sell-out pop album from Guelph, ON rapper Noah 23, Rock Paper Scissors is also one of his most experimental projects to date. Having collaborated in numerous groups from Crunk 23 to Bourgeois Cyborgs to Weird Apples and more, Noah takes it to the ultimate extreme with an album full of unusual collaborations. Working with a variety of his hometown’s indie rock talent – Gregory Pepper produces two tracks and contributes the hook on another, The Sad Clowns produce and sing the hook on “Wisdom Teeth,” and Jim Guthrie (a coup, for sure) produces and sings on “Torn Again” – results in some potential indie pop radio fodder. Add to that the indie rock appeal of “Faded,” a track produced by New Haven, Connecticut rapper/singer/producer Ceschi Ramos, who continues the trend by also singing the hook. Noah also courts the hipsters with electro-style tracks “Half Drunk” featuring Cadence Weapon, “Things Get Done” featuring Modulok, and solo track “Give It To the People,” as well as traditional-minded hip hop fans with Factor’s heavy, slamming production for “True Romance” alongside Athena and Sankofa. The wide variety of sounds should help give Rock Paper Scissors a wider, more universal appeal, but those who pick up this album will also find themselves assaulted by a range of extremely innovative emcees intent on nothing but evolving their own style. Noah deserves much credit for attempting something like this, creating an inspired collaboration between himself, Epic, Sole and K-the-I on “Tragic Comedy” as just one example. A daring experiment, Rock Paper Scissors bears much fruit in the end. - Thomas Quinlan

When Boston-bred rapper Mr. Lif couldn’t make a 2004 performance in Athens Greece, organizers asked Noah23 instead, making him one of the first North American hip-hop artists to rock a mic there. Similar one-off invitations have enabled Noah Brickley to play Europe and select parts of Canada and the United States. All this despite the fact that the prolific, stunningly talented MC’s discography is barely available outside his hometown of Guelph, Ontario, where he works mundane day jobs to survive.

“Oh, I’m fucking famous,” he laughs. “I was born famous but I’m not rich. Although it’s frustrating, I think that could be a blessing artistically. I’ve had such a gradual build to being a professional musician, that when and if success does occur, I’ll be ready for it.” A true original, Noah23 blends surreal, socio-cultural abstractions with a heart-stopping flow and eclectic production. He could be the fastest rapper alive but he’s just as keen to push his vocal range and sing a sweet hook. An array of influences seeps through his music but everything is accounted for; throwaway lines are eschewed for curious lyrical riddles that require at least a double take. Noah23 is a hyper-intelligent underground poet who studies and struggles to make his otherworldly art, confident that, at some point, the rest of the world will catch on.

Born in Natchez, Mississippi 30 years ago, Brickley lived in Ferriday, Louisiana (birthplace of Jerry Lee Lewis and Jimmy Swaggart) with his prison-bound, hippie father and music-loving mother before moving to Guelph as a child. “My mom got me a Twisted Sister 45 when I was five years old and I’d play it on my Fisher-Price record player. And then Run DMC in ’86; I had that for Christmas. My mom actually told me when I was young that she’d rather me listen to hip-hop than heavy metal, which I always thought was kind of funny.”

Brickley was drawn to metal though and taught himself guitar, while the lyrics he imagined had a distinctive rhyme structure. “In ’87, ’88, I started rapping on the schoolyard a bit. I’d make them up in my head without writing them down. I was really into metal-rap, funk stuff; I bought all of the early Living Colour, Fishbone, and Chili Peppers albums. Before that, Run DMC and Fat Boys — those were the biggest for me — and then N.W.A. and 2 Live Crew — stuff with swearing. Each year from then on I’d be into different things.”

When Brickley was 15 his father died and, not long after, life was different. “I dropped out of high school in grade 10 and that’s when I really started listening to Daniel Johnston, African Head Charge, and Wu-Tang Clan, all in the same acid trip with the Beatles and Slint. Digable Planets’ Blowout Comb was an epiphany for me. Stylistically, lyrically, it really altered my subconscious and changed me to my core.”

A unique cognitive awareness followed Brickley to his first rap group, the agit-hippie collective Fippad. Exploring drugs in an activist town fostered a thirst for knowledge and Brickley’s innovative, information-overload rhymes emerged on lo-fi recordings made on boom boxes. “I was really influenced by psychedelics and a lot of books apart from rap. I can specify songs by the RZA that, lyrically, altered my mind and my consciousness where I was addicted to the whole transmission of fast lyrics. But psychedelics were really a big thing for me, changing the way I thought and wanting to share it. It’s a good way to get across a lot of ideas and words.”

Among pop culture references and conspiracy theories, Brickley’s lyrics delve into astrological and supernatural elements, capturing things the rest of us might miss. Take his Noah23 moniker, for example. “I got it from The Illuminatus! Trilogy by Robert Anton Wilson, which I read 23 years after the publishing date wearing a shirt with a 23 on it at the time I read the passage about 23,” he explains, nonchalantly adding, “That was a pretty big deal.”

With little mainstream attention, Noah23 has recorded hundreds of songs at home on Acid software, started his own Plague Language rap imprint, and composed 12 solo albums in this decade alone. Within months, he’ll release at least five new records, including those by his groups, Weird Apples and Bourgeois Cyborgs. “2008 is the Year of the Rat so I gotta get that cheese,” he says. “I’m going to be an octopus punching you with music this year.” Most notably, Noah23 is working on a new solo record that puts him front and centre. “I think it’s the biggest album made in history by anyone ever. It’s called Rock Paper Scissors — the sacred trinity of life — and the theme is childhood nostalgia. I think it’s going to describe who I am better than anything I’ve ever done. I hope people understand how good it is.”


- Vish Khanna

The city of Guelph in Southern Ontario as known is a place of
contradictions: conservative farmers and neo-liberal hippies, nazi
skinheads and militant lesbians, straight edge punk rockers and
drug-soaked ravers. Against this background, Noah23 rises, a
representative of a culture where guilt is built into our every
consumerist action, yet where any reaction necessarily depends upon that
said culture. The beats are the first clue that one is no longer situated
in the mainstream of hiphop, nor even the mainstream of the underground.
The Orphan, executive producer for Plague Language, takes up the bulk of
production credits and his music is a conglomeration of sounds woven into
virtual tapestries. Unafraid to sample anything, perhaps most interesting
is his unabashedly strong and repeated use of drum n' bass styles, yet
even these tracks always remain inexplicably hiphop.

Noah himself is the product of intelligent reflection on a society that
cannot possibly sustain itself in a global context, yet he uses the very
tools that were produced by this society to create art as a form of
terrorism; true "Culture-jamming" which would make any modern ad-buster
proud. Some will simply scorn the fast-paced lyrics as incomprehensible,
or worse yet, nonsense. The words are certainly abstract, still the
seeming contradictions and lack of coherence in many songs is only on
surface analysis. Underlying them is an incredible symmetry based upon
hidden wordplay and an exploitation of the evocative power of language;
the emotions and ideas that result from the grouping together of almost
random words. Take for instance the song "BANK", a desperate cry against
the current trend towards capitalist globalization that could serve as an
anthem to those militant protestors of the WBO. Many of the songs cannot
be said to be "about" anything. Instead, abandoning the linear model of
truth, and building upon the likes of Hakim Bey, he reaches into the
subconscious, letting the listener know s/he's been changed, but not
revealing just what damage he's caused. His own attempts at undermining
the current face of hiphop on a local level is reflected in lyrics like:
"Sodom and Gomorrah, fauna and flora at the bottom of the Elora Gorge with
a smorgas board of bourgeois cyborgs in the corridor at the Source awards"

Comparisons to Anticon are bound to follow, especially with Noah's
quick-paced abstract chanting, almost singing, styles. Added to this is
the abstract nature of the lyrics and a vocabulary that has hitherto been
unmatched in all of hiphop. Although it is probably true that those who
are adverse to the aforementioned may react negatively, this CD is in no
way the simple assimilation or reiteration of the current indy hiphop
scene, for it will stand out in the future as a marker in the evolution of
hiphop. Another common complaint, and one I first felt myself, was that
the CD is far too long. Yet numbering “23” songs, including guest
appearances such as the intriguing Treevortex, I realized that Noah is
once again undermining the common assumptions of what makes a good modern
hiphop record – ie. “short and to the point.” With his fast-paced style
Noah has fit more words than some emcees do in three albums, yet the
quality never drops. In my opinion "Neotype Phenotype" is the best
underground hiphop to come out of Canada in 2001, and Orphan and Noah23
both stand out as elite amongst their respective fields of production and
lyricism worldwide. You may try to ignore this work but remember ...
"Resistance is Fertile."




- Duncan A. Dionne (UKHH.com Canada)

Noah23 is definitely not of this earth. Only someone capable of circular breathing through their skin could rap and sing like this. Nonetheless, a few of his mates do try to keep up. Whereas other emcees have styles or signatures or gimmicks, Noah23 is the first emcee to my knowledge who has had his corpus callosom removed and replaced with an interface connecting his frontal lobe directly into a multi-track and thus his unconscious to the listening world. I am reluctant to rely on quotes from his work to illustrate why this episode of lexical overload is so impressive because to place “”s around any two points of this album is to destroy a complex network of shifting contexts. To pick out odd phrases or lyrics is like smashing a kaleidoscope in a dark room and then holding up a sliver of mirror to declare “look how beautiful it is! This is how it works!”



A rare moment of coherent clarity comes during the ognihs produced Octave where, over a scathing metallic soundscape, Noah23 vaunts “I’ve done acid three times in the last two weeks so you might say, I’m on top of my game!” But alas! Such coherence is short-lived once he soon begins “letting go of the amino mezzanine” to yet again make less apparent sense than a game of Mallet’s Mallet conducted by Ghostface Killah and Dose One. As Noah23’s words speed into an ecstatic blur of epic psychodelia passing by faster than the passage of the universe perceived by the passenger aboard HG Wells’ time machine, it is futile to try and keep up. The key to appreciating the genius of Quicksand is not to try and decipher his cryptic incantations word by word but to instead let them wash over you in a state of hysterical euphoria. At first, Noah23’s cerebral liquidation is an incomprehensible accumulation of signifiers. However, try approaching Noah23’s work like it’s the literary equivalent of a magic-eye image. In much the same way that the time traveller relaxes to see the birth and death of solar-systems in terms of the cycle of night and day, the moment you relax sufficiently and let your mind shift out of focus. the exquisite meaning of Noah’s “cosmic trigger-finger-paint.” will eventually materialise to reward the patient listener.



It’s not all unrelenting high speed outbursts. there is albeit
momentary relief when, at the epicentre of this storm, the Lovely-produced Digestive Enzymes finds noah23 slowing down to sound like Marvel’s The Thing decided to celebrate “Clobber time” over a Hi Tek beat. This track marks a watershed whereby lyrics begin
coagulating and crystallising, albeit briefly, into more orthodox narrative and braggadocio structures. For instance, there’s Julia Set whose lyrics begin to portray a scene on a beach but yeh, they do then ultimately subside back into gaga…



Parallel to noah23’s more considered and paced distribution of his verbal paroxysms, Orphan’s crisp Drum & bass scores and the contributions from a coterie of guest beatsmiths come together to offer a contiguous backdrop with it’s own narrative shape. Banded Hairstreak is both the closest thing to a mainstream rap beat and the missing link to the dancehall influenced instrumentals of his debut album. The soundscape of Imhotep features elements from Elgar’s Cello concerto in E minor made popular by Jacqueline Du pre and whilst it’ll probably be used as Exhibit A in the case “real music” lovers V sampling, it is the perfect setting for Noah23 to consolidate the growth of his symbolic virus. My favourite instrumental from the album would have to be Learning Curve where a sexy flute sample hovers over a layering of several different rhythms to create a hot South-American vibe.



If to you “lyrical” simply means the setting of words to music then this album is not for you. If you only like “once upon a time” narrative structures or “you’re weak like soluble condoms…you’re rotten like a porno starring Jim Brannan and Dot Cotton” type punchlines, this album is not for you. If however music, literature and art have a greater and longer-lasting affect on you than any chemical intoxicant, check out this album.
- © Copyright 2002, CD Goldie for ukhh.com

Guelph, Ontario’s Noah23 showed his knack for offbeat rhymes and innovative beats on his indie release Neophyte Phenotype back in 2001, leaving some listeners bewildered and scratching their heads. The clean, professional sound on Quicksand is a remarkable improvement from the ‘rough around the edges’ quality of his debut, and once again Noah guides us through the layers of his abstract conscious. The complexity of his lyrics is often paralleled by inventive song titles like “Crypto Sporidian” and “Imhotep”, and he shows his ability to speed-rhyme on cuts like “Saw Palmetto” and “Banded Hairstreak”, the latter making use of LL Cool J’s “Kanday” beat. Producer Orphan handles the duties on most of the album, showing some diversity, but his reliance on simple, sample-based beats betrays him at times. The quirky drum & bass tempo of “Resistance” is accented by somber piano keys with dazzling results, but the fact that a similar (if not the same) loop was used on the calming and subtle “Volapuk” four tracks earlier lessens its impact. Sinister strings and erratic drums dominate the Ognihs-produced “Octave”, while “Nocturnal” builds to a creepy sci-fi beat that Kool Keith would suit comfortably, in his Dr. Octagon guise. Distant Relatives guest on the uptempo “Hourglass” before the revolving door breaks of album-closer “The Fall” steal the show. Noah23 consistently earns his stripes as a writer, and musically Quicksand is a step in the right direction. Left-of-center and largely original, this is hip-hop from beyond the final frontier.
(Plague Language)
- Bradley Miller URBNET.COM

Noah23’s Quicksand (2002) is one of my favorite hip-hop albums of the new millennium. I’m serious. It says right there in my list for the Top 60 Albums of the ‘00s. See? Number 18. Burroughsian/Flash Gordian free-association imagery delivered with a rapid, passionate spit over playful jungle beats makes me mister happy boy. What can I do when I hear “Imhotep,” how can I resist dark string swells laced under a shifting drum break and an absurd syllable barrage of sci-fi pulp pop culture that’s summed up so emphatically with Noah’s “imperfections is what makes me sexy”? That’s the $1000 Jeopardy answer to “Chet’s G-spot.”

So then what’s the straight answer to the following question: how did I not know about Jupiter Sajitarius, Noah’s third full-length, until now? It dropped in November of last year. I’ve lost three or four months of large potential increase to my music listening joy. Vocal chords warbled hoarse, I trill out a girly coo every time Noah switches up the flow or geeks the references, but I fear that I’m the only one listening at this point.

That’s not right, and the proof of the wrong rests with the album itself. With an Albini-era guitar riff by Chevelle, I’ll lift my finger and croon “Point number one.” Of the 2005 French hip-hop album Batards Sensibles by TTC, fellow CMG scribe Aaron Newell insists that its great contextual value lies in its nigh satirical highlighting of a certain “aspect of hip-hop culture (shit words) by being incomprehensible lyrically but astounding stylistically.” Noah23 could be accusingly praised of the same subversive agenda, but since he raps in English, I can at least pretend to make some sort of subconscious sense of his exotic syllable salad, all diced-up sea anemones and peacock feather garnish with a Vulcan chef’s otherworldly logic for culinary aesthetic. However, his cool hubbub also serves itself dripping in the adhesive dressing of emotional investment, and as this metaphor winds down into complete absurdity, Noah winds his words up to max capacity, his flow ascending the beat like an anaconda on speed weaving its way up through the banister of a spiral staircase. I’ll make appropriate that ridiculous simile by quoting its subject: “Palace of smashed glass / Hall of mirrors / Three-dimensional syntax / Jazzy veneer.”

Noah’s poetry mosaics fragment after fragment of nothing but vague images like “eyes of a pirate” and “electric eels” and snips of lit like “Beeblebrox” and “mugwumps.” These shards appear and reappear in each song, and the tone helps give the sense that Noah’s intently searching for something, that he’ll travel through space and time and the maze of his own mind to find it; his recordings log a high-brow existential adventure with a cheeky Buck Rogers sense of fun. Listening to Jupiter Sajitarius might be the equivalent of listening to a stream-of-consciousness audio book by Kilgore Trout.

If only audio books were immaculately rapped, though, and came with beats the like of these. Orphan, Noah23’s best man on Quicksand, does much of the work here and hits upon one of his finest with the crisp, snapping drums and shimmering key notes of “Quicksilver,” somehow making a line like “there’s a party going on over hurrr” compelling. “Nova Toast” rides a three-step descending guitar line for all its worth until scratches and string hits and woodwinds take over and Noah’s listlessly repeating, “Cut the strings off the marionette / and tie them around your finger to never forget.” While these chill cuts clearly excel, the production does not sacrifice too much of its quality for variety; the name of hip-hop adroitly reinvents R&B on “Photo Soul Decay,” reggae-ska on “Scream,” and honky-tonk on “Camera Shy.” On “Turtle Bear” Noah spits a moment of clarity: “My work is too diverse, and I know it / But at least I have the courage to step up and record it.”

A smorgasboard of genres, tempos, and styles explored (with plenty of sing-song lines recalling Josh Martinez), Noah arrives with the sixteenth track upon his concluding statement, “Petit Mort.” Over rolling piano and mourning strings supplied by up-and-comer Varick Pyr (producer of “Bridle” for Sage Francis), Noah introduces the song in multi-tracked harmony: “All the spades upside down / all the spades upside down.” Then he brings a hook that plays upon his own identity, his name: “From the dove / to the fig leaf / to the rainbow / to the sunshine / I don’t wanna live forever, leave it for the reptilian bloodline.” Noah finishes his second verse with the kind of wincing wink that few rappers pull off as well as he: “You know that wild horses couldn’t… hush / Forget compliments now I’m ice-fishing for lust / It’s all about the scarlet toe-nail polish / All about the scarlet toe-nail polish / All about the scarlet toe-nail polish…”

It’s powerfully expressive babbling. The weaknesses of Jupiter Sajitarius feel intertwined with its strengths, incoherency with ambiguity, inconsistency with eclecticism. Style does such a fine job of clothing the substance that it’s hard to tell whether the content’s weighty or emaciated. Noah’s passion goes a long way towards selling the piece, but it lacks the novelty and tour-de-force impact that made Quicksand such a startling listen. Nonetheless, this is a remarkably worthy follow-up, one that I wish I had been spreading the gospel on months ago. Jupiter Sajitarius demands listening, and if just a wee bit more of that happens due to this review, then smack me silly and call me mister happy boy.

Rated: 79% - Chet Betz | April 27, 2005 (Coke Machine Glow)