Lupe Fiasco has outdone himself. Last year the rapper released a delightful (albeit scattered) debut album that showcased his slippery rhymes and poetic storytelling, but this year he released a bona fide masterpiece.
The Cool cuts back on some of the eclecticism of Lupe's debut and focuses on what he does best: lush, hook-heavy hip-hop. Packed with minor chords and dense social commentary, these songs are relentlessly dark and scathingly satirical, but nearly every one boasts an unforgettable hook, either in the form of a euphoric, sing-along chorus, or a slyly rapped refrain.
Little matter that the exact concept of the album is too abstract to chart (it involves a trilogy of symbolic characters), Lupe Fiasco's critiques of contemporary rap speak for themselves. On "Hip-Hop Saved My Life" an aspiring rapper scores a minor hit with an inane crunk song, while on "Dumb It Down" Lupe is ordered by street fans and record label execs alike to pander to the lowest common denominator (the taunting voice ordering him to "dumb it down" is a slowed down, chopped and screwed parody of southern rap). If southern rappers thought Nas was dissing them with his vague assertions on Hip-Hop Is Dead, then Lupe's vicious satire here should be enough to spark all-out civil war.
We've heard The Cool's criticisms of popular rap for 15 years now: It's too violent, too materialistic and too sexist, but Lupe's measured assessment carries some authority. Unlike finger-waving, puritanical alternative rap groups that assail popular rap from the sidelines, Lupe offers a loving, insider critique. He's not just arguing hip-hop that can do better, he has provided a concrete example of how: An album that's uncompromisingly smart and weird, but still catchy enough for Top 40 stations and action-packed and contemporary enough for the streets.
