B-Side Guys

Shareef Kpakpo Addo has built his career around making music that moves bodies, but “Breaking My Skin” confronts what happens when your own body becomes foreign territory. The Brooklyn artist transforms a deeply personal medical crisis into something that functions as both vulnerability and groove, proving that sometimes the most honest response to physical deterioration is to make it undeniably funky.

The track’s alternative R&B foundation provides an unexpected vessel for medical trauma. Reef Boii’s Thundercat-influenced bass work creates a rhythmic pulse that feels almost therapeutic, as if the act of playing through pain might reorganize the chaos of chronic illness into something manageable. His production choices reflect an understanding that groove doesn’t disappear during suffering—it adapts, becoming a form of defiance against circumstances beyond your control.

Lyrically, Addo captures the specific horror of waking up in a body you no longer recognize. “I’m a gray monster / Face as rough as stone” carries the brutal honesty of someone who’s stopped pretending that positive thinking can cure physical reality. The repeated refrain “it keeps breaking my skin” functions like a mantra of deterioration, each iteration confirming the ongoing nature of his transformation while simultaneously creating rhythmic structure from chaos.

The song’s emotional weight comes from its refusal to offer false comfort or miraculous recovery. When Addo sings “Wonder when it’ll end / ‘cuz I miss feeling good,” he captures the exhausting reality of chronic conditions—not just the physical symptoms but the psychological toll of indefinite uncertainty. His delivery carries the weariness of someone who’s discovered that medical mysteries don’t resolve on convenient timelines.

“Breaking My Skin” succeeds because it transforms medical trauma into musical catharsis without minimizing the ongoing reality of chronic illness. Reef Boii has created space where physical pain and rhythmic pleasure can coexist, suggesting that sometimes the most radical act is simply continuing to make music when your body feels like it’s falling apart.