“Tetsuo & Youth” begins by painting an idyllic picture. You can hear children laughing and playing in the pool on a hot summer day, while the soft whine of a violin slowly fades in; its tune simple and light, yet somber. It quietly lingers before disappearing altogether, and once it does, the verbal assault of Lupe Fiasco begins.
Ever since his debut album “Food & Liquor” hit the scene in 2006, Fiasco has become synonymous with poetic lyricism, furious flow and metaphors so deep that some may require a quick Google search in order to fully comprehend them.
That being said, “Tetsuo” comes during a time that finds the Chicago-based rapper in a strange state of artistic purgatory.
His fourth effort, “Lasers,” disappointed critics and fans alike; Ian Cohen of Pitchfork believes the album played against Fiasco’s strengths and created new weaknesses for him at the same time. His last release, “Food & Liquor II,” had an audible voice, but lacked the spark to make it memorable.
This time around, Fiasco doesn’t hold anything back, and from the moment he utters his first word on the second track “Mural,” the rest follows with a resounding snap, crackle and pop.
His words blast through the auditory canals with the rapid-fire speed of a Gatling gun, and then bounce around the walls of the brain like those cheap super balls you get from the grocery store. It’s a fairly brash and engaging experience, but it doesn’t set the tone for what’s to come.
The pace of “Tetsuo” mellows out around the halfway point, but its lyrical content remains consistently sharp and agile. Fiasco’s wordplay and style is vividly literary, and it allows him to tell his stories in ways that only a select few (like Kanye or Kendrick) have proven to be capable of these days.
As for the overall sound of the album, Fiasco scrapped the high-profile production that weighed down “Lasers” and returned to a simpler, yet unique soundtrack similar to the one that backed “Food & Liquor.”
Bluesy horns, sweeping strings and strong percussion bring an element to “Tetsuo” that was sorely missed from Fiasco’s most recent musical efforts: heart. It sounds cheesy, but it’s the truth and it shows.
I know that it’s a bit early to be calling an album “the best of the year” since it’s only January, but “Tetsuo & Youth” makes a strong case to be considered the best hip-hop album of 2015.
It hits you hard, keeps you hooked and takes you on a journey that leaves you wondering what will come after it ends. In the case of Lupe Fiasco, hopefully it’s more of the same, if not something even better.
