Lupe Fiasco's Cool Intentions

“God, it’s gonna get ugly, man. They’re gonna buy you drinks. You’re gonna meet girls, they’re gonna try to fly you places for free, offer you drugs. I know it sounds great, but these people are not you’re friends. These are people who want you to write sanctimonious stories about the genius of rock stars. And they will ruin rock ‘n’ roll and strangle everything we love about it, right? And then it just becomes an industry of cool.”
(Lester Bangs, Almost Famous)

So I just happened to be watching Almost Famous last night and I heard this line.

It came in an early scene when rock journalist Lester Bangs (played by Philip Seymour Hoffman) was spouting advice to William Miller, a fledgling, adolescent rock reporter ready to hatch. I know this Cameron Crowe classic was released in 2000 and set in the 1970s. And I know Bangs is speaking specifically of the rock star lifestyle and the impending demise of the musical genre, but his words seem to resonate in this current climate of hip hop.

This is an era of snap music and Soulja Boy, devoid, many would say, of any real substance. Hip hop has become an "industry of cool." Lupe Fiasco’s The Cool is an examination of that very industry and, truth be told, nobody is better suited for the inspection job. His goal? To make the cool uncool and visa versa.

Lupe actually reminds of young William Miller in the movie, a fresh-faced breath of fresh air, who knows the rules and understands the game, but somehow remains immune to it, untouched and untainted by the trappings of mainstream coolness. But on his second album, that detachment is both his greatest strength and his greatest weakness.

When I first read about the The Cool being a concept album with recurring characters, I thought it was a good idea, a way to comment on the ills of society via caricatures a la Aaron McGruder. But the characters make guest appearances at best and tend to get lost in the shuffle. You don’t miss them much because, as always, Lupe’s lyricism steals the show. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Lupe is unmatched lyrically. His verses are mummified in metaphors that may take years to unwrap and unravel. And the wordplay is way too dense to digest in a single sitting. Case-in-point: Dumb It Down.

Verse 2

And I'm mouthless, which means I'm soundlessNow as far as the hearing, I've found itIt was as far as the distance from the earring to the ground isBut the doorknockers on the ear of a stewardess in a LearShe fine and she flyin, I feel I'm flying by 'em'cause my mind's on cloud nine and I’m a mime at the same timePimps see the wings on the underground kingWho's also Klingon, to infinity and beyondSomething really stinks, but I Sphinx like Leonor lying(lion) in the desertI'm flying on Pegasus, you're flying on the pheasantRider of the white powder, picker of the fire flowersSpit "hot fyah" like Dylan on Chappelle's skitYeah, smell it on my unicornSnort the white horse, but toot my own horn - sleep

Or this verse from the fast-food metaphor friendly track Gotta Eat (which on the surface has all the signs of being contrived ridiculousness, but let’s not forget that Lupe is in a league of his own):

Hey he had a whole lotta cheese/plus he was a mac had a whole lotta seedsMade a lot of niggas fat gave a whole lotta G's/grams man, he had a whole lotta these/And he would let you hold like a whole lotta keys/even if u lose some he would give you new ones/Twice the bread like he had two buns/and he had a whole lotta seeds/even his kids had meals (mills)/For reals some rich small fries wrapped in paper since they was lil, catch up nigga

He is a rapper’s rapper, who refuses to sand down his delivery or surrender his depth. This kid is a beast. He raps about rape on Intruder Alert and from the point of view of a rebel soldier overseas on Little Weapon, showcasing his superior storytelling ability. He can speed it up (Go Go Gadget Flow) or slow it down like on the Tribe Called Quest-esque Paris, Tokyo (which is even more confusing considering Fiascogate). The high point of the album comes with six tracks in the middle from Hip Hop Saved My Life up to Dumb It Down. Put You On Game is dope but, once again, Lupe flubs on his album closer, this time with the obnoxious Go Baby. The Cool’s standout track is Streets on Fire, produced by Chris & Drop, where he portrays the streets as an infectious virus.

But like the writer noted in this Village Voice article, Lupe could use a guide, a mentor, a veteran Lester Bangs type who might help him hone his creativity. Somebody should’ve told him that the album was too long. Somebody should have told him that Snoop Dogg doesn’t belong on Hi-Definition, the arguable low-point of the LP this side of Hello/Goodbye (Uncool). Somebody should have told him to stop it already with singing his own hooks. And somebody should have told him that Soundtrakk isn’t quite the “genius” that Lupe makes him out to be.

Just like on Food & Liquor, Soundtrakk is his producer of choice from his 1st and 15th crew. Unfortunately, most of the beats don’t really grab you and maybe that’s for the best. Now, you have no choice but to give Lupe your undivided attention rather than losing your mind in the complexity of the production. (But just imagine for a moment what it would sound like if Lupe’s words were buoyed by the lush production of a producer like Madlib.) Yes, the buddy-buddy guest spots and bland production make the LP a testament to Lupe’s unfailing loyalty but it is also why The Cool can’t be anything more than an almost classic.