The way Noah Shebib discusses his own brain has an almost theatrical quality. According to a 2020 Rolling Stone profile, he took a yellow Post-it note and drew two ovals—one empty and the other slashed through with a dark line—to show the damage that years of untreated inflammation had done to his brain tissue. For a man who spent twenty years creating some of the most polished, evocative music in contemporary hip-hop, it’s an odd, striking picture. It’s difficult to ignore the contrast.
40, as almost everyone refers to him, was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis at the age of 22, shortly before he began working closely with a young rapper from Toronto named Aubrey Graham. Being an autoimmune disease, multiple sclerosis is characterized by the immune system attacking the protective sheath surrounding nerve fibers. There is no treatment for the illness. Perhaps the cruelest aspect is that it lacks a consistent pattern. There are days when you feel numb. Some days bring nothing at all. According to Shebib, his first symptom was a total disarray in his perception of temperature, where heat was perceived as cold and cold as heat, making it impossible for his brain to accurately interpret basic sensory information.
He admitted that he didn’t take this seriously enough for years. The rigorous schedule, irregular sleep patterns, and late nights that came with touring with Drake made it difficult to provide MS with the kind of disciplined care it needs. He reportedly claimed he wouldn’t have felt anything even if someone had cut him with a blade. One particular moment from that time is worth sitting with: backstage after a show, his face went numb, his body started to shake uncontrollably, and tears were streaming down his face. He was transported in a wheelchair. Anyone who only knows him as the man behind the boards on “Take Care” will find the scene startling.
The news hit hard when he eventually saw a doctor again after being away for about ten years. According to the doctors, he had effectively lost ten years that he could have used to slow down the disease because a third of his brain tissue had already died from accumulated inflammation. Most people would be shaken by this kind of reckoning, and Shebib seemed to realize—possibly for the first time—that ignoring MS wasn’t a viable course of action.
In 2018, Pusha T gave the public an unfortunate glimpse of his condition when he mentioned. Advocacy groups immediately criticized Shebib’s illness in a Drake diss track, turning a private medical battle into headline material virtually overnight. Regardless of the intention, it’s difficult to ignore how that instance accomplished something the producer hadn’t quite done: it uncomfortably forced a discussion about MS into hip-hop culture.
Shebib’s role has changed these days. Instead of putting in long studio sessions as he used to, he now works remotely more frequently, supervising final mixes. Drake now has a structure that doesn’t always require his physical presence, thanks to OVO Sound, which has grown far beyond being a side project. It’s really unclear if that means getting better, adapting, or just getting older with a chronic illness. What is certain is that the illness, which is still unpredictable, is not going away, and it appears that he is as well.
