Lupe Fiasco Refuses to 'Dumb it Down'

There is obviously something in the waters of Lake Michigan. Hip Hop artists hailing from Chicago consistently challenge audiences and other artists both lyrically and sonically. Interpreters of the world around them, they translate their ideas into some of the most imaginative, socially conscious, sensitive, and provocative songs of the genre. Few Chicagoan rappers (or those from anywhere else, for that matter) embody these and other sensibilities more eloquently than Lupe Fiasco does on his sophomore CD, The Cool.

The number of Chicago rappers that have risen to national prominence may be smaller than those from other cities, but their contributions to the Hip Hop landscape are disproportionate. They range from the famous (Common, Twista,) the emerging (Rhymefest, Shawnna, No I.D.), and the legendary (Do Or Die, Jitu and Ten Tray, Cap 1, Crucial Conflict). They each possess an individual style yet remain connected by a soulfulness (born in the voices of the Chi-Lites, Curtis Mayfield, and Gene Chandler), a story telling sense (brought to the city on the backs of Delta blues musicians during the great migration), grounded by the consciousness of Gospel and encouraged to sweat by a burgeoning House Music movement. 160;It is no wonder then that Fiasco’s 19-song set (including a few spoken word gems) is enjoyably all over the place, musically and stylistically.

The Cool is a genre-bending ride through infested cities, dark caverns of paranoia, happy destinations around the world, and wide rivers of hope. His songs are consistently contradictory: Sesame Street Bright (“Go Baby,” “High Definition”) and Blade Runner dark (“Streets On Fire”), apocalyptic (“Little Weapon”), and promising (“Hip Hop Saved My Life”), bleak (“Intruder Alert”), and encouraging (“Fighters”), problem-laden (“Dumb It Down”), and solution providing (“Superstar”). Fiasco has taken the artistic bar that Kanye raised and turned it sideways. Add to this formula the ridiculously pleasing hooks provided by Mathew Santos (John Legend if he played guitar instead of piano) and the borderline alt-rock swing of his friend The Gemstones (thought it was a band with one wild-ass drummer but it’s really just a singular, multi-talented, incredibly nimble, guy ), and you have built a masterpiece.

That Lupe is a talented wordsmith is undeniable. He has proven himself in battles and ciphers around the world where he has buried many an MC while simultaneously perfecting his chops. However, he is the exception to the rule that many gifted rappers known for being able to “spit off the top” (improvise lyrics on the fly) rarely translate well on record. Instead of gaining appreciation by the masses, they are relegated to a “back-packer” status wherein they are respected by many conventional artists, fans, and writers but fall to deep lyrically for the average radio listener. Fiasco addresses that ideal by being incredibly visual and melodic without losing any intellectual cred.

On “Dumb It Down,” for example, Fiasco’s lyrics, use of metaphor, wit, and complicated rhymes schemes might challenge an English professor. Instead of letting his lines hang like a dangling modifier, He introduces a voice of nemesis that might represent how the masses might identify with his cerebral swagger:

"You goin' over n*ggas' heads Lu (Dumb it down) / They tellin' me that they don't feel you (Dumb it down) / We ain't graduate from school n*gga (Dumb it down) / Them big words ain't cool n*gga (Dumb it down)"

The highway to The Cool is not a straight one. Perhaps it would be easier to describe the journey. The fact is Lupe Fiasco is all over the road employing a vocal dexterity that includes straight poetry, speed rapping, complex alliteration, and sinister voices and with tracks that move from a basic “808” banger (“Gold Watch”) to art-rock mash-ups (“Hello Goodbye”). His greatest strength, however, is in his film-like story telling and use of metaphor and soft hyperbole.

In “Put You On Game,” a slow driving track – reminiscent itself of a “here-come-the-bad-guys movie soundtrack – the voice of Mephistopheles speaks of the evil of the world and how he is accountable:

"Through the back alleys / And the black markets / The Oval Offices / Crack houses and apartments / Through the mazes of the queens / The pages of the sages / And the Chambers of The Kings / Through the veins of the fiends / A paper chaser’s pager / Yo, I’m famous on the scene / One of the oldest, most ancient-est of things / Speak every single language on the planet, nah mean?"

Lupe has said, “What you put out into the world comes back to you. You actually change the world with what you do. I want to put some good in the world." He acknowledges in his songs, however, that he is smart enough to know achieving that goal is more than a notion – he will not win any popularity contests on the way.

There are likely other artists like Fiasco waiting to be heard. Maybe his songs will seduce young ears to look beyond his catchy hooks and clever beats to his brave lyrics. Perhaps, then, a door of opportunity will be knocked down and even parents of this generation will become defenders of the art when it refuses to dumb itself down.

Kevin Gibbs for EbonyJet.com.