Dear Lupe Fiasco

Buy Lasers HERE

It's been well over 3 years since your last album, The Cool. That album was a dedication to hip-hops obsession with... well, being cool. It painted a picture of the game and what's cool as being these destructive, yet enticing entities, that would tempt even the most righteous among us. I suppose that is one of your appealing traits as a rapper: your ability to reveal what we celebrate in this 'game' for the detriment it is. When it was revealed that Lasers would finally be released, I rejoiced, not only as a fan excited for new Lupe, but also because it would be a far cry from your usually pithy tone. No longer would the listener not be subject to the thought of how much we're losing. We're lasers, not losers! We don't have to be all melancholy about the way hip-hop is going! We can protest in front of Atlantic Records and get your album released! We don't have to let the labels decide what we have to listen to! That's what I thought Lasers would champion. It turns out we were wrong. Lasers was a disappointing reminder that no matter how much 'we' push, there's a huge chance 'we' won't get what we want. And you were the first person to learn that, Lu.

I won't get into the fact that you derided the album after it leaked or have been lambasting your own effort. That's for you and only you to live with, given the high standard of work that you usually hold yourself to. As a listener and fan, that happening is a bit disconcerting. Even if you weren't doing that, the album still doesn't live up to the height. It starts with a rousing piano solo on 'Letting Go', then delves into an abyss of half-baked choruses and muddled verses. You spoke a lot about war on this song and did a lot of introspection, but not in a palatable way. It was almost like you were writing an angry letter to yourself about everything that grinds your gears, but the letter had no direction and no point.

Lasers continues with probably the best song on the album 'Words I Never Said', a powerful political statement reminiscent of the Lupe we know and love. The song was persistent, unyielding, and unashamed, reminiscent of what I imagine you wanted the album to sound like. You definitely threw that in second so that you could get it off your chest, and then the album takes a nosedive from there. Between 'Till I Get There' and 'I Don't Wanna Care Right Now' the pop-esque instrumentals seem better suited for Flo-Rida than you. Hell, he might as well have been on one of those songs. This is clearly where Atlantic had their way with you. The Trey Songz feature couldn't have been more misplaced, and the track, 'Out of My Head', had the depth of a Jersey Shore reunion. Given how easily you tended to speak about love on your other albums, this was a huge disappointment. You rapped in circular monosyllables, all about superficial things and not the romantic minutiae that endeared you to the fan (think 'Sunshine'). I felt horrible bopping my head to the song. You and Trey could've definitely collaborated and come up with a better song, though I'm not sure Trey has the capacity to go 'deeper' anymore. Even so, 'The Show Goes On' saved Lasers from the dreaded 'halfway point pause-and-never-play-again curse'. Its uptempo vibe brought the listener in and while you didn't RIP your verses, it was hard not to like them.

After that, the album takes another nosedive. It seems like you were sleepwalking through those next two tracks featuring MDMA, and it was hard for me to keep awake during them. You talked about the future constantly, but had a flow sounding like it was stuck in the mud:

They like 'how come you don't rap that' / Cause that's a backtrack / and I ain't tryna back back

Really, Lu? We're taking it back to preschool? This is coming from the guy that wrote 'Dumb it Down'. What happened to digging deep for conceptual greatness? What happened to challenging the listener? What happened to the type of tracks that make you rewind them dozens of times just to catch one line or metaphor or punchline? It seems like you're faking the funk, or just simply f*cked the funk up. 'State Run Radio' got some brownie points back, but the irony of the track was hilarious considering the puppet strings pulling you throughout the whole album. 'Break the Chain' and 'I'll Never Forget You' were snorefests. By the time I got to 'All Black Everything', I had had enough, regardless of how good a song it was. The damage was done. You had successfully shown how 'conscious' hip-hop could have its manhood taken from it and served on a platinum plaque.

Ultimately, Lupe, Lasers failed because you failed to paint the vivid picture that your manifesto for the album did. Rather than champion 'substance in the place of popularity', you got a #1 spot on the Billboards with what was your least substantive album. Rather than 'think (your) own thoughts', Atlantic spoon-fed you 9 concepts and you choked. Lasers wasn't the revolutionary work of art you promised, and no matter how much you downplay your involvement, it's your album. I'd rather you take ownership for this and come back harder with LupEND or Friend of the People or whatever your next work is (you never know now with you, especially with your precarious label situation). To say this was a bad album is a bit much, yet I can't give this one my stamp of approval. It'd not only be going against my better judgment, but your own words. So, Lupe, enjoy your platinum plaque. Like I said, ironically your best-selling album was your worst content-wise. Lasers or losers, this album proved that it is possible to win and lose at the same time. If that's not enough reason to come back with a vengeance, then this should be your last album just like you said 2 years ago, Lupe...