It’s easy to spend an hour listening to “Valleys.” The second song on Lupe Fiasco’s surprise release, Pharaoh Height 2/30 finds the Chicago legend dancing over Robert Glasper’s “Dillatude2.”
In the first verse, Lu is on a flight writing an ode hollering at a young lady with a “fine face, also a dime in [her] behind.” The details are lush. He’s sitting on a plane on the way to California, eating a chicken salad, sitting by the galley, kicking extended similes about being a hippie in the ‘70s who’s accustomed to getting head. “But if you’re gay that’s straight, too,” Lu delivers. “Hey, I don’t hate, I got a couple of friends who went bi twice / Did that arrive right? / Do you like whole stories or just the highlights?” It’s subtly hilarious yet ambrosial at the same time, the type of verse that inspires homies to send quote-texts to their shorties.
“Valleys’” second verse finds Lupe waxing free-form on everything from the Charleston shooting to Bernie Sanders’ sardonic need for a Nike deal. “Remembering the movies my duty was killing beats, he bounces, turning inwards. “Social villain unwilling to live in peace / I told you children I’m wielding a living beast.” It’s scattered yet somehow sound simultaneously, the type of train-of-thought rap that forces the cypher’s next emcee to dig deep into the rhyme book.
“Kings” lives in a similar outline only much denser. The Weeknd’s “King Of The Fall” provides the backdrop. Metaphors like “Example: Now I don’t let samples in my lyrics” signal Lupe’s refusal to be ghostwritten. But the following line—“Myth be told 60 souls perished in a parish bill”—is one of a slew littered across this project that only the truest Carrera Lu fans will care to Genius. Pharaoh Height 2/30 lives up to its title. Sky high bars abound, king sized stanzas are everywhere, easily twice as brain-twisting as the mixtape series in which its name is derived (Fahrenheit 1/15). It’s the type of project that feels good even without immediately knowing what Lupe is addressing specifically.
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There’s the rub: How important is comprehensibility when delivering a message? Does it matter what the frequent Metal Gear Solid references mean in connection with the release’s broader Egyptian theme, for example? Is “Pyramid” (produced by Flying Lotus) anything more than two minutes and 30 seconds of relevant rambling? Is relevant rambling… relevant? One of the most awesome one liners on “Of” is “This is… the kind of rap that sends jaguars running back into the rainforest” (over J Dilla’s “The Diff’rence”). Does “Of” mean anything more than just an incredible cypher rhyme? “Schemes”—a full-length action thriller involving ninja stars and a dramatic car chase that includes a Mitsubshi crashing through the Louvre—is the only track that includes a hook. Everything else is verses on verses on verses. Is Lupe just talking or challenging shallow, formulaic songwriting? Do answers matter when debating art?
When put in order, the song titles signal to a statement: “In” “Valleys” “Of” Kings” “Pyramid” “Schemes.” Undoubtedly over time the message inside this release will move in-focus. But at this point, following Lost In The Atlantic Ocean and Tetsuo & Youth, clearly Cornell Westside’s patented simple-complexity approach is light years behind him. Now, largely it’s just complex-complexity. And that’s cool. Lupe Fiasco is still crafting fodder for future conversations. On Pharaoh Height 2/30, ideas ring louder than clarity.
