Author: DC
February 2011
Word count: 1,241
It seems very odd to criticize anyone for not talking enough, for not expressing his or her personal feelings enough, in this era of Fox News and Facebook. The world in the early 21st century is defined by externalization, by the way in which it has come to be acceptable for anyone to express their innermost thoughts to everyone else, or to take a personal perspective on events rather than buying into a narrative defined by anyone else. The ultimate expression of this was the perception held by George Bush and his regime that there is no such thing as fact, that every situation is open to individual interpretation.
The result of this trend, when applied to politics and the way that people relate to society, has resulted in the outward expression of feelings that would previously have been kept private, out of deference or a sense of what was proper. In the United States, Europe and most recently throughout the Middle East, the public have been expressing a simmering anger about individual politicians or political systems, societal structures and the way that people are being supported by institutions, and corporations and perceived corporate greed. Discontent and rage has been expressed via Twitter and online protest, via mass gatherings and demonstrations, via organizations like the Tea Parties, and via the actions of artists like authors and filmmakers. Notably, however, this wave of dissatisfaction has not been supported to any great degree by the graft of songwriters.
Musicians have, for the most part, stayed away from discussing politics and social sentiments, or have discussed them in an abstract and depoliticized way, or have spoken out but only in relation to issues of such gigantic impact and relative party-political neutrality that everyone can agree on the sheer fucked-upness of it all[1]. Few musicians have had the courage to express rage and disgust and ill-feeling, and of those who have very few indeed have combined an expression of their frustration with intelligent criticism and a constructive, anti-nihilistic approach to how things might be improved.
One major exception to this is the Chicago rapper Lupe Fiasco, who about a week ago released a single called “Words I Never Said”. “Words…” has been put out just a little over a month before the release of Lupe’s next album “Lasers”, and is supposed to be the single that crashes the charts, that sets up big first-week sales for the album, that makes people forget the tortured history of the record. The need for a song to do this usually results in simplicity – to appeal to as many people as possible, artists strip things back to simple, easily-relatable and easily-repeatable constructs. Usually, this means talking about sex (think Lil Wayne’s “Lollipop”), broad motivational statements (think “Lose Yourself”) or how awesome the artist is.
Not for Lupe Fiasco, however, will things be about the licking of lollipops or the sexing of ladies. On his single he wants to slay some dragons, and he sets this up with the hook, sung to start the record by Skylar Grey, which acknowledges how difficult what he’s about to do is and what it may cost him. However, he comes to terms with the fact that the alternative to speaking out – staying silent – is ultimately more corrosive for you than risking incurring the wrath of others by voicing your feelings. However, even at that point thigns could go either way. Yes, Lupe has claimed that he’s going to be bold, but lots of rappers and musicians have said that but come up short. Yes, he has chosen a bassy, thumping, ominous Alex Da Kid beat that bangs but is also unshowy enough to provide an unfussy base for some fierce lyricism. But will he really go in, or just express the same watered-down sentiments that some many other artists have been peddling?
Verse one, line one. “I really think the war on terror is a bunch of bullshit”. Okay, so we’re not fucking around here. American sacred cow being address – check. Strong word choice – check. But interesting word choice, with Lupe’s use of “think”. He’s not making a broad or knee-jerk statement – instead, he’s reflecting his considered thoughts and inviting you do to the same, to contribute to the dialogue, whether you agree with him or not. In any case, regardless of your personal opinion, it’s undeniable that Lupe is spitting the sort of blunt speech that popular music has been running scared of lately, is showing a courage and boldness that others have been lacking.
The lyrics are particularly bold relative to the prevailing attitudes, values and forms of hip-hop in 2011. Hip-hop at the moment seems to be about battling and being tough, as typified by Jay-Z and Kanye West’s collaboration “H.A.M.”, or about valuing the struggle of the individual over anything collective, as seen in the lyrics of Young Jeezy and Lil’ Wayne. In contrast Lupe, as you’d hope given his quasi-conscious background, is unafraid to be different. He acknowledges that he isn’t hard as a motherfucker, recognizing his own weakness and uncertainty (“So scared of what you think of me, I’m scared of even telling you / sometimes I’m like the only person I feel safe to tell it to”) and pointing out the inherent limitations of an approach to life that is based on violence, thuggery and rugged individualism (“I’m part of the problem, my problem is I’m peaceful / and I believe in the people”)
Throughout the song Lupe demonstrates both his courage and his intelligence, taking on major social and political issues in a thoughtful way, with nothing that could be pigeon-holed as superficial sloganeering. He confronts phony wars, corrupt politicians, the poor education system in the United States, sub-standard nutrition, pharmaceutical dependency, and the financial crisis. However, he doesn’t just vent his range, directing it upwards and outwards while denying personal culpability and responsibility. He questions his own motives and those of his family, friends and followers, inviting people to “walk with me into the ghetto, this where all the kush went”, before blasting abnegations of responsibility with calls to arms like “complain about the liquor store but what you drinking liquor for? / complain about the gloom but when d’you pick a broom up? / just listening to ‘Pac ain’t gon make it stop”.
Even religion, that most taboo subject and an issue that is rapidly becoming a no-go zone for discussion and commentary, does not escape his focus. Most notably, Lupe takes on the extreme fringes of his own Muslim faith, perfectly expressing the views of moderate Islam by stating that “Jihad is not a holy war, where’s that in the worship? / Mudering is not Islam, and you are not observant / and you are not a Muslim”, before pointing out that other faiths who might be quick to agree with him might need to look at their own failings first.
Occasionally Lupe goes too far in confronting conventional wisdom, as when he repeats tired 9/11 conspiracy theories about the intentional blowing up of the Twin Towers. This sort of reference isn’t helpful to those who are trying to construct a more open and responsible political dialogue, as it blurs the line between appropriate cynicism and anger and outright fringe thinking, making it easier for people to disregard the entire message. However, given how things are should we not applaud informed and passionate speech, even if it is wayward in places?
