The Curious Case of Lupe Fiasco

When rap mogul Jay Z called Lupe Fiasco “a breath of fresh air,” I couldn’t agree more. The year was 2006 when he released Lupe Fiasco’s Food and Liquor. The transition of hip hop as a lyrical haven to a pop culture fixture, was well underway. Gone were the days when stellar rap music was measured by lyrical content and impassioned delivery. Now, the “best” rap songs were weighted on catchy beats and concise hooks and choruses, so as to be repeated easily. Rap was no longer a labor of love, it was a corporate chop-shop.

Lupe entered the mainstream as hip hop was changing from a lyrical exercise to a constant headbanger. At the time, I was proud of Lupe. As hip hop crippled with every Yung Something, Lupe stood strong. His spirit, bold. His content, deep. His musical prowess laid unchallenged in a wave of one-liners. The album performed well and garnered him four Grammy nominations. He won one with “Daydreamin’,” which featured sexual songstress Jill Scott.

A year later, he followed up with Lupe Fiasco’s The Cool, an album I believe qualifies as one of the greatest hip hop masterpieces of all time. Riding the moderate wave of Food and Liquor, Lupe delivered a powerful single in “Superstar,” with Matthew Santos crooning throughout. His public profile was rising significantly. Rumors of Child Rebel Soldier, a rap super-group with the likes of Lupe, Kanye West, and Pharrell, caused reverberations of intersectional excitement.

But his public profile coincided with the rise of internet downloads and piracy. The music industry was slow to minimize, or at least, level the exponential growth of illegal downloading. Lupe, already an awkward placement within the hip-pop stratosphere, felt the blow back. The Cool performed well on the charts, but didn’t ultimately penetrate nor resonate with the masses. Full of heavy political content, the masses sidestepped the lyrical intricacy for even more easily-digestible club hits.

There was pressure on Lupe. From the label. From his fans. From within. He needed to make an album which adapted to the consumer of the time. Simple. Quick. Easy. He gave us Lasers (2011). As a Lupe fan, I was sourly disappointed. Quick and simple was not Lupe. Selling out was not Lupe. Lupe was an artistic revolutionary; I could depend on him to fight back against the cultural flavor of simplicity. But with Lasers, he abandoned his charge. Regardless, there were some gems, “Shining Down” being one.

Depending on the prism from which one looks, Lasers is either a success or failure. This album is the only of Lupe’s to debut at number 1 on the Billboard 200. However, sales rapidly fell in the following weeks as many exposed the album for what it was; a concession to the musical trend of the time. Andy Kellman of AllMusic said it best: “If there is one MC whose rhymes should not be dulled for the sake of chasing pop trends, it’s Lupe Fiasco.”

Lupe’s stock continued to fall when, one year later, he referred to President Obama as a “terrorist.” Already a maligned fixture within pop culture, Lupe infuriated many in the Black community with his seemingly glib statement. For me, I understood where he was coming from: scholars, experts, and commoners alike recognize that global terrorism is largely fueled by foreign policies cemented in white supremacist capitalism. Lupe weathered the storm, largely because such school of thought is credible.

However, there was little recovery or public relations mending that could fix the unnecessary follow up. In 2013, Lupe was kicked off stage during an inaugural party performance after, yet again, chastising the President for a half hour. The maxim “there’s a time and place for everything” was more than fitting.

The timing of his rhetoric were even more problematic considering he had released an album only a few months before. Released in September 2012, Food and Liquor II: The Great American Rap Album Pt. 1 was met with critical acclaim but didn’t have the commercial sales to match. The lead single “Around My Way (Freedom Ain’t Free)” was a remarkable return for the lyrical engineer, but received hardly any airplay.

It was around this time when Lupe’s bitterness went public. However, his anger was less about legitimate Black rage, although his frenzied furor was embedded in built on it. Lupe was mad at his community, his Black community, for not embracing his craft in the same ways that we did Rick Ross and “rappers” of similar ilk. My friend perfectly summed it up as “horizontal hostility.” Lupe was no longer *publicly* lashing out systems or institutional racism…he was chastising and berating the victims of structural oppression, especially women. His Twitter page reads as a tragic onslaught of mockery. He regularly calls Black women “bitches” and other derogatory terms. His deep-seeded patriarchy took me by surprise, especially considering his musical history of promoting female empowerment.

The musical world is transforming, yet again. But unlike the first major transition in which Lupe found himself a novice, he is seasoned in the ways of shifting musical tastes and the cultural mores that define it. iTunes, Spotify, and YouTube are no longer dastardly thorns in a music executive’s side. Online platforms are more easily leveraged to equate to album sales.

The market no longer solely craves the trap music taste. The New School of Hip Hop, the real winners in the industry, are giving us social and political insight alongside exceptional production. J. Cole is a prime example of such. With no radio singles and little promotion, J. Cole gave us the wildly successful 2014 Forest Hill Drive.

And Lupe is largely responsible for the shift. He was the martyr, the guinea pig, the sacrificial lamb. He laid the corporate foundation for lyrical heavyweights Kendrick Lamar and J. Cole. Lupe was an industry sacrifice; he was the unique experiment who served to educate the archaic music industry that lyricism and anti-establishment business maneuvers, when coordinated correctly, are insanely marketable.

Simply put: Lupe was an artist before his time.

Lupe is still trudging along this new world of social online media. Recently, he found himself in the middle of the Azealia-Azalea Twitter joust, with anger misdirected in almost every direction. Ironically, his series of tweets perfectly sums up his current mentality.

Screen Shot 2015-01-07 at 10.18.35 AM

Screen Shot 2015-01-07 at 10.19.16 AM

Screen Shot 2015-01-07 at 10.20.12 AM

Screen Shot 2015-01-07 at 10.21.57 AM

Despite his downward spiral, Lupe is keeping his head above water. His latest album Tetsuo and Youth is expected on January 20th, and many die-hard Lupe fans are looking forward to the magical prowess he regularly brings to our sonic palette. But as a public persona, as a human being caught and embittered by the stresses of celebrity, who knows what venture he’ll find himself next.

Underneath the egregious horizontal hostility, is a man who’s been used and tossed aside by corporate bureaucracy. He is hurt; feeling betrayed by the Black community because we, as a whole, didn’t uplift him in the manner he deems appropriate. And now, we are the receivers of his misplaced ire. Right before our eyes, we watched a spiritual revolutionary transform into a intransigent shell of his former self.

photo 1Arielle Newton, Editor-in-Chief. Get at me @arielle_newton. Get at us @BlkMillennials.


37 responses to “The Curious Case of Lupe Fiasco

  1. I guess the website speaks to those commenting here, millenials. Lupe is not the first or the last of conscious rappers who comment on the politics of their times in their lyrics. He’s no vanguard of anything. It’s ok to be a fan. But you’ve got to school yourself on music that has come before. The arrogance with which he talks and this persecuted persona he has taken on is confusing, sounding more like Kanye to me. And anyone who talks about Obama being a terrorist and yet cannot understand why the idea of a white Australian mimicking an American accent being the face of female MCs in hiphop as being problematic, is one with very little insight. But he’d like us to believe he’s conscious? About what exactly? Subjects or matters that he picks and chooses whether they are contradictory or not! I don’t remember him being so vocal about George Bush, and why is that. And anyone who talks about having to dumb stuff down (for his “own” people) so that they understand him, has lost the plot and doesn’t even understand the hypocrisy of that statement. Why is he removing himself from his people, because he’s enlightened? The audacity of it all. There is speaking in a lingo that others will understand and there is purposefully swearing spewing vulgar words that have deep seated mysoginist connotations to a black woman in defense of a white coon!, and being that he’s so conscious, even he knows this. I think all the commentators here need to research (like simply google) rappers that came before him and could match him lyrically. He’s not above reproach, not at all.


    • I understand that you think that he is not the best or that he might have jot took a risk because other rappers have done the same. Now tbh I live Hip Hop and always will and your right in a sense that other rappers have talked about issues such as he back then. However looking back there has not been a rapper like Lupe. Giving the fact that Lupe actually called Obama a terrorist while he was about to release a well anticipated album I.E. His biggest album yet. Opening up the minds of people who call a woman a “bad bitch” or giving you a song of our history “Audubon Ballroom”. Those are just examples but just something to throw out. Not to mention the conscious awareness in his music but to be honest I listen to a lot of music all genres and still to this date I have not found a rapper as witty as Lupe. I have to give credit where credit is due. Tensuo & Youth is definitely a return to form. I encourage you to listen with an open mind. I hope we stop bashing this man and give him the credit he deserves.


    • You need to go listen to some of his old mixtapes if you really think he wasn’t critical of George Bush


  2. Great read. Here are my thoughts. Lupe is a misunderstood lyrical genius from the Chi. If there is anything you all should know about Chicago is that we ALL have egos. Whether you want to admit it or not, we all think we are the best at what we do (even if it’s cleaning toilets I’m the best) and we get resentful when we go unrecognized. Someone commented separate the man from the music but it’s hard when you fuse the two together (I.e. Political views during concerts.) I still see him out at events in the community but to be honest when you sign a record deal you should be prepared to get screwed with no Vaseline. Look up lesser known Motown artists.


  3. This is an amazing article and perfectly encapsules what Lupe’s career has been up until this point. I was literally just saying to myself the other day that “The Cool” is his best album to date and an iconic album for Hip-Hop. I hope that one day (soon) his lyrical genius will out way the destructive image that he’s created for himself in the public.


  4. Lupe is an Aquarius. Ever wise, ever contradicting, ever changing. Always seeking some truth and he perceives it at the moment.


  5. Pingback: » Tale Of The Tape: Lupe Fiasco- Tetsuo & Youth·

  6. He’s a Hero for speaking the truth About American foreign policy. It’s a very brave thing to do in a brainwashed country, and very bad for his commercial career. He’s a very rare person. Cherish the guy. And btw he’s also a great rapper.


Share Your Truth

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s