Fiasco discusses social issues on F & L II

Though most mainstream music tends to shy away from socially relevant  issues, Lupe Fiasco proves he has the chops to tackle hardcore topics. His latest release, Food & Liquor II: The Great American Rap Album Pt. 1, presents an artist who has decided to make political and societal awareness the crux of his work.

But though that decision illustrates the socially conscious wordsmith’s commitment to his ideals, it detracts from what used to make his music special.

Those who rightfully consider his 2006 debut, Food & Liquor, as one of the preeminent hip-hop albums of recent history will be disappointed to learn that its sequel, and Fiasco’s fourth album, is not a full return to excellence. The original F & L was a masterpiece in storytelling, most notably on the imagery-heavy classic “The Cool,” but F & L II does not retain that artistic approach. Instead, the concept of social commentary nearly dominates each of the album’s 16 tracks.

Perhaps this development makes Fiasco’s music more impactful. Unfortunately, it also makes his music much less interesting.

In the opening track “Ayesha Says,” Fiasco’s sister lays out the framework for the recurring themes of the album’s slam poetry style: “Food and liquor stores still occupy the block / while police and community watchmen justify why they shot / Emmit Till and Malice Green, Rekia Boyd and Trayvon Martin / better not wear that hoodie while shopping for a carton.”

Within the first minute of F & L II, listeners realize that this album is going to be diving into some deep source material. Over the course of the album’s progression, however, Lupe’s numerous returns to the well become obvious and repetitive.

Nearly every song has serious political overtones if not overt political statements. During the hook of the Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth cover “Around My Way (Freedom Ain’t Free),” Fiasco sings, “Rich man, poor man, we all gotta pay / ‘cause freedom ain’t free, especially ‘round my way.” And the first lines of the second track of the album, “Strange Fruition,” make it clear that no punches will be pulled: “Now I can’t pledge allegiance to your flag / ‘cause I can’t find no reconciliation with your past / when there was nothing equal for my people in your math / you forced us in the ghetto and then you took our dads.”

When Lupe isn’t speaking on the oppression of society, he is commenting on the woes built from within society. On the tracks “B-tch Bad” and “Audubon Ballroom,” he argues that the vocabulary of modern hip hop, namely the oft-used “b” and “n” words, cause damage to society. Ironically, Fiasco uses these terms himself from time to time throughout the album.

Still, those yearning for Fiasco to return to his roots of vibrant storytelling and vivid imagery will not be entirely disappointed. The artist remains extremely lyrical and laces his verses with metaphors and double entendres reminiscent of his debut album. “Form Follows Function” is a clear example. He spits, “Been in the stu all day cooking food for thought / now out the soup du jour for you and yours / might find sushi for your soul, we call that moving raw,” demonstrating there is still a hint of the artist fans have come to know and love.

Furthermore, the track “Lamborghini Angels” is a standout. Sampling a line from one of his best songs of the last five years, the mixtape track “Angels,” Lupe creates an imaginative image: “I see diamond-flooded demons, Lamborghini angels, halos down with the doors flapping when they came through.”

In describing the demons in his mind, he paints a picture of a Lamborghini with open scissor doors resembling the wings of an angel. It’s safe to say that Lupe hasn’t completely lost his touch when it comes to striking creativity. Unfortunately, high-caliber tracks like “Form Follows Function” and “Lamborghini Angels” are few and far between on F & L II.

The production is solid, but the album lacks a textural and aesthetic connection from track to track. The beats, most of which are mixed by different producers, do not flow together particularly well, and the hooks seem especially random. This isn’t a great overall album, but strong wordplay makes for some good songs that will, if nothing else, catch your attention.

Still, it’s clear that rather than trying to convince the listener to completely adopt his state of mind, Lupe Fiasco is simply attempting to force his audience to think. This album makes its listener think about life, society, the government and race relations, among other subjects. And for that reason, F & L II is worth checking out.