Listening to the track “Panic Button” from decade-spanning collaborative project P.E.A.C.E. & ROMANOWSKI—PUBLIC RELATIONS 2004-2017, the song’s quickness, wit, and intellect are quick to introduce themselves. There is an uptempo, polyrhythmic punch to the Romanowski-made beat that emcee P.E.A.C.E. uses to the fullest extent, thanks to his inner metronome. He’s on, off, inner, outward, moving throughout the time signature playfully, harnessing words as if they were a four-directional joystick from the video game Frogger.
It’s at that moment you remember truly how impactful P.E.A.C.E. was.
“P.E.A.C.E. as an artist, when he was on, tapped into a higher universal consciousness; it was something where you just felt blessed to witness such greatness,” said Romanowski.
“And working in the studio with him was a gift as well. The way he created main vocals, backup vocals, and sounds, creating stacked choruses that were very soulful, funky, and creative. Reminding me of some Parliament vibes.”
P.E.A.C.E., aka Mtulazaji Davis, passed away on October 24, 2025. Born in Dallas but raised in Los Angeles, he met fellow emcees Myka 9, Aceyalone, and Self Jupiter at the Good Life Café and formed pioneering alternative rap group Freestyle Fellowship in the late ’80s.
In the Ava DuVernay-directed documentary on that community builder café and incubator of West Coast underground hip-hop, This is the Life, the viewer bears witness to the LA version of a Lyricist Lounge. All types of emcees, from gang members to poets, came to the organic grocery store located at Crenshaw Boulevard and Exposition Boulevard, near Leimert Park.
They wiped off their shoes before entering, and abided by the rule of “no cursing.” It was at its ’90s Thursday night hip-hop open mic workshops that P.E.A.C.E. began to be regarded as the truest writer in the crew.
San Francisco’s DJ Romanowski has been a staple in club culture for decades—I can personally attest to seeing him as a resident at the famed Up and Down Jazz Club at 1151 Folsom between Seventh and Eighth Streets during the mid-to-late ’90s, when supermodel Christy Turlington was one of the owners. On some nights, I’d run into him spinning at some random afterparty on Minna Street, or a warehouse event in the Mission. He was and remains an SF bon vivant.
Romanowski met P.E.A.C.E. around 2003 through Mark Herlihy at Future Primitive Records, to which Roman was signed at the time. The producer was already a big fan of the groundbreaking emcee’s work with Freestyle Fellowship.
“Our mutual love for dressing sharp and funky music and being a bit mischievous in a good way is what attracted us to each other,” stated Romanowski. “We both think fast and with a great sense of humor and instantly get what the other person was saying.”
So they decided to work on some tracks together. “I would let him pick from my beats/tracks that I had produced, and then we would record him,” Romanowski continues. “I never once told him what I wanted or what he should do lyric-wise—he always knew. P.E.A.C.E. & ROMANOWSKI—PUBLIC RELATIONS 2004-2017 is a staggering explosion of out-there beats and arrangements that steer far and away from anything ever dreaming of radio airplay.”
In line with Doctor Octagon-type renegade sound mining, these are ideas that bump, but still carry intellect with them. That’s where P.E.A.C.E. materializes and then disappears, like that Homer going into the bushes meme. There is a secret handshake, a wink, and a nod between the emcee and producer—chemistry times 100.
You feel as though both of these “true” artists understand one another, without any stuffy preamble or discourse. It does indeed feel like Romanowski pressed play and P.E.A.C.E. just went with it. Took off into the nebula, using that sandpaper vocal to cruise about outer space.
Romanowski wanted to release this project, and would check in with P.E.A.C.E. from time to time to see if he was ready. Unfortunately, that never happened during the emcee’s life.
These secret, sacred sessions were released by Romanowski on June 15, 2026—P.E.A.C.E.’s birthday. The rapper always said he was doing it for his kids, Inca and Mayan, and that’s where his share of the royalties and all publishing rights will go. That’s generational art.
Pick up P.E.A.C.E. & ROMANOWSKI—PUBLIC RELATIONS 2004-2017 here.
