Single “Superstar” is essentially Lupe’s big pop rap track, its glossy sensibility amplified by Matthew Santos’ Chris Martin-like chorus. “The Coolest,” by comparison, is much less hedonistic, finding Fiasco having a conversation with the Almighty while backed with a string-laden chamber melody. Once the two gratuitous intro tracks are out of the way, “Go Go Gadget Flow” immediately stirs up a high energy bounce and impressively displays Fiasco’s insanely fast rhyming skills, from which he drops smile-worthy lines like “ no16-bit like Sega Genesis” and “ I’m back on my grizzle like a bearskin rug,” starting off the record with more fun than proselytizing. What matters most on The Cool are the songs, and those on display here are top notch. Whether or not these characters and their story arcs are all that obvious or make any sense is kind of arbitrary it’s a fantastic album regardless, and if you really want to delve into the mythology, it’s more or less mapped out on Wikipedia. Fiasco has cast his conceptual net much farther, however, apparently interweaving narratives about three central characters: The Cool, The Streets and The Game. In concept and in execution, The Cool is a step forward for Lupe Fiasco, though his approach is largely similar to that of F&L-conscientious and conflicted lyrics, vibrant production courtesy of Sountrakk (with some guest contributions), and a strong penchant for accessibility overcoming any of the album’s overbearing themes. Soundtrakk’s beats snap and pop as brightly as on Food & Liquor, and it’s hard not to be won over by Fiasco’s chorus of “ that’s when shit gets greasy.” And in that moment, any trepidation toward hearing The Cool is transformed into celebration. There’s no doubting that the idea of promoting healthy diets within a hip-hop song may seem a little too much like the Ad Council deserves co-writing credit, but damn if the kid hasn’t put together a great little tune. It’s hard to know what to make of it, and it’s hard to condemn anyone for having doubts, but it’s Lupe he deserves the benefit of the doubt.Īctually hearing “Gotta Eat” makes me feel somewhat ashamed for even doubting Lupe in the first place. You want the guy to step it up, and really outdo himself, but, you know-cheeseburgers. What possible explanation could there be for such a baffling artistic choice, other than that Lupe Fiasco is, to borrow a phrase from Fujiya & Miyagi, `off his bleeding rocker?’ And given how good Lupe’s debut Food & Liquor was, this is problematic.

It’s a tough thing going into an album, knowing that it contains a song written from the perspective of a cheeseburger (for the purpose of highlighting high fat/high cholesterol diets ravaging America).

Lupe fiasco the cool