In theory, Lupe Fiasco is a rapper with a message. In practice, Lupe Fiasco is a rapper with a disconnect between his intended message and its delivery. He claims to be a “conduit/to keep you calm through it” (Heart Donor), but throughout Food and Liquor II: The Great American Rap Album Part 1, calm is absent. In its place are short circuits, overloads and vicious electrocutions. It is tempting to claim that this disconnect between artist and listener is just a function of language. After all, language is layered with meanings and implications and sometimes, through no fault of the speaker, miscommunication occurs. This isn’t the case. Language isn’t the issue: it’s Lupe himself.

The album begins with a striking spoken word piece from Ayesha Jaco, Lupe’s sister. Bringing the same raw, indignant energy that she brought to the opening tracks of Lupe’s first and second albums, she sets a serious, tense mood.  Her intro is followed by “Strange Fruition,” a song that alludes to Billie Holiday’s classic song “Strange Fruit.”  While the song is initially promising and Lupe’s flow and the hard-thumping instrumental complement each other well, Lupe derails the song with the line:  “Hello evil, I’m back.” From this line forward, balance is thrown completely out of the picture.

When asked about the title of the first Food and Liquor, Lupe said “The ‘Food’ is the good part and the ‘Liquor’ is the bad part. I try to balance out both parts of me.” Rather than attempting to find this balance within himself and encouraging the listener to do the same as he has in the past, on Food and Liquor II Lupe preemptively decides that he is already purged of the liquor and immediately begins tossing so-called food at the listener.

This preachy and arrogant stance prevents nuance and balance and leads to very complex issues being oversimplified at best and caricatured at worst. On “Bitch Bad,” we get a taste of the former. Here, Fiasco attempts to tackle the word “bitch” and muddles through it, ultimately only further dirtying the contentious term’s murky history. On “Audobon Ballroom” he tells white people that they can’t say “nigga” and tells black people that they shouldn’t, as if the history of the troublesome word can be resolved overnight (and as if these two groups are the only users of the word). Finally, on “ITAL” he makes the silly claim that “alcohol is stupid.” In the end, what is apparent is that what Lupe thinks is social commentary is actually just social commenting. Rather than mentioning social phenomena and taking stances (commentary), Lupe just mentions them (commenting). There’s a big difference.

To clarify, the problem isn’t the fact that Lupe is trying to discuss complex issues. It’s the fact that he tries to discuss these issues without even a hint of awareness. For instance, “bitch” and other problematic terms have been contested in rap for decades and are even being contested now, but in the chorus to “Bitch Bad,” after saying “Bitch Bad, woman good, lady better,” Lupe says “they misunderstood” as if he is making some startling observation (and as if he doesn’t misunderstand them). Likewise, he uses “nigga” on “Strange Fruition,” but on “Audubon Ballroom”, he tells everyone else to abstain as if he hadn’t even listened to the earlier song. The same goes for him using “bitch” on ITAL. Lupe addresses issues as if he is the first to comment on them, but he is unaware of even his own history when it comes to these issues. It’s almost like watching a Mitt Romney speech.

What’s really bizarre about Lupe’s lack of awareness is that on “Around My Way,” Lupe seems hyper-aware. Rapping over a problematic sample, he mentions models, drug use, American history, shoe fetishes, fossil fuels, American international politics, planned obsolescence, and various other issues, yet he is able to weave them all together to make a coherent statement about the problematic nature of the word “freedom.” Similarly, on “Hood Now,” he slyly mentions the myriad ways in which black culture has increasingly seeped into American culture and makes a coherent statement about social progress.

While these moments of hyper-awareness are unfortunately few in number, even hyper-awareness couldn’t solve the central problem of the album: Lupe’s preachiness. Lupe has a sharp mind, but when it is so overly and overtly dedicated to one way of thinking, it comes across as dull, obtuse. This is not to say that actual preachers are all narrow-minded. Rather, it’s just to point out that the way Lupe preaches leads to a lack of awareness.

In the end, the album is kept afloat solely by Lupe’s technical prowess and adaptable flow. Even when the album takes a very apparent turn for the commercial midway through – seriously, tracks 9-12 are a literal commercial break – technically, Lupe remains on top, tackling beats like Simeon Rice at a buffet. Nevertheless, Food and Liquor II brings shame to its namesake: overwhelmingly the food is rotten and the liquor is cheap. There are moments of brilliance (“Lamborghini Angels,” “Put Em Up,” “Form Follows Function”), but they are overshadowed by Lupe’s awkward position in the pulpit. By the time Part 2 is released, hopefully he will either feel more comfortable in this position or step down.

The post Album Review: Lupe Fiasco’s <em>Food and Liquor II: The Great American Rap Album Part 1</em> appeared first on RESPECT. | The Photo Journal of Hip-Hop Culture.

Although braggadocio and hyperbole are essentially the pillars of contemporary rap, for some people Kreayshawn takes them “too far.” The popular way of dealing with her is to dismiss her as the troubling product of rap’s irresponsible excesses. For the adherents of this narrative, after years of trivializing serious social realities, rap is finally being “punished” by the presence of a rapper who has not even the slightest claim to “authenticity.” For these people, Kreayshawn is like the bastard child of Rick Ross. This is a comforting and convenient narrative, but it just isn’t true. Both Kreayshawn’s story and Somethin’ ‘Bout Kreay, Kreayshawn’s debut album, makes this wholly apparent.

The reality is that Kreayshawn, despite the alluring appearance of difference, is actually quite average. Her album begins with “Blasé Blasé,” a fitting title for the indifference she exudes throughout the album. The instrumental, which is slightly reminiscent of LL Cool J’s “Control Myself,” has much promise, but Kreayshawn’s static flow yawns over the beat, inducing instant lethargy. The lyrics are not awful, but even the chorus is not particularly memorable. She raps, “Can’t hear haters, blasé blasé,” but then she dedicates three verses to insulting these generic haters. Apparently she’s not as deaf as she thinks.

“Blasé Blasé” is a yawnfest, but the next song, “Ch00k Ch00k Tare,” livens things up. Nodding to her Russian roots with some lines in Russian, Kreayshawn teams up with fellow artist Chippy Nonstop and producer Free School to come up with a song that’s half early M.I.A. and half “???” The result is mellow, but fresh. Kreayshawn’s flow still lacks enthusiasm, but for this song, it doesn’t matter. Kreay Kreay’s breakout hit “Gucci Gucci” comes next, bringing some much-needed energy to the album. “Gucci Gucci” is probably where Kreayshawn is most memorable. Rapping about selling Adderall over a sample of her own lyrics, she effortlessly dismisses rap’s favorite luxury brands. There’s something subversive about that.

Sadly, “Gucci Gucci” is the highlight of the album. The following tracks have fantastic instrumentals (particularly “Left Ey3” and “Like or Love It”), but Kreayshawn’s indifferent flow starts to become literally tiresome. Her lyrics don’t really help either. “You trying to play me like a boss but you’re finna take a big loss” is something even Rick Ross couldn’t pull off without a grimace (or grin). “Breakfast” and “BFF” are some particularly insufferable tracks. On the former, 2 Chainz makes one of his least memorable guest appearances of the year. The chorus features food items – “I got that juice, cheese, bread, breakfast – yet neither artist sounds hungry. On “BFF” Kreayshawn use auto-tune in precisely the way Jay-Z despises.

Admittedly, not everything that follows “Gucci Gucci” is so bad. On “Twerkin’ ” Diplo kind of recycles some of the effects he used for M.I.A.’s “XR2,” but he and Kreayshawn definitely succeed in making a decent dance song. The only strange thing about the song is when Kreayshawn says “Twerkin!”; her tone is very ambiguous, almost sarcastic. Are strippers not her thing? Or is she ambivalent about them? Is she even being sarcastic? There’s no way to know, but it’s such a distinct line, kind of like the guy that says “Toasty!” in Mortal Kombat games. “The Ruler” is also not so bad. The song is all about gold and ends up being cheesy at times, but it’s cheesy in such an honest, fun way that all is forgiven. Flow-wise, she sounds like M.I.A. on this track, but delivery-wise, she sounds like she’s having so much fun. There’s a difference.

In the end, Somethin’ ‘Bout Kreay proves that there’s kind of nothing about Kreay [musically, at least]. She has a good ear for beats and is definitely fun to listen to at times, but when it comes to rapping, she’s very unenthusiastic and kind of generic. One can rap without enthusiasm – Earl Sweatshirt does it all the time and Lupe Fiasco did it for “Bitch Bad” – but for Kreayshawn it doesn’t seem like an aesthetic choice; it just comes across as blasé, indifferent. Kreayshawn came into the game as a director and editor for music videos. She should probably get back to her roots.

The post Review: <em>Somethin’ Bout Kreay</em> appeared first on RESPECT. | The Photo Journal of Hip-Hop Culture.

BET’s 106 & Park  wisely took it upon themselves to not censor Lupe Fiasco’s single “Bitch Bad.” Despite its controversial title, the message of the song persuaded the network to allow the music video to be played on the teen-focused music show. Rocsi chops it up with Lupe to gauge his reaction to the song and its reception. Food & Liquor II: The Great American Rap Album out September 25th.

The post Video: Lupe Fiasco talks “Bitch Bad” on 106 & Park appeared first on RESPECT. | The Photo Journal of Hip-Hop Culture.