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Rapper Lupe Fiasco: ‘It’s my job to shine light and expose the dark side’

The reluctant star on coming out of retirement, staying politically conscious and why he doesn’t like drill music

“I can take living in the ghetto, where there’s broken glass, prostitutes, empty lots and no prospects across a seven-mile radius, and make birthday cakes out of it!” says Chicago-born rapper Lupe Fiasco. “We take the least and make the most out of it... that’s what hip-hop’s sweet spot is.”

Listening to the 40-year-old (real name Wasalu Muhammad Jaco) dissect hip-hop culture is an illuminating experience, yet it’s also a surprise to hear him sounding so fired up again by the idea of rapping. Having made it big in the 2000s with two gold-selling albums, in 2016 the disillusioned emcee said he was retiring from performing altogether, a decision prompted by an online backlash against lyrics deemed antisemitic (Fiasco vehemently denies they were). In truth, even at the height of his fame, Fiasco always seemed a reluctant superstar.

Nine years ago, when his peers were busy aligning themselves with Barack Obama, Fiasco boldly criticised the recently re-elected US president at an inauguration event for turning a blind eye to Israeli violence in Gaza. Provocatively, he performed a 30-minute version of his 2011 protest song “Words I Never Said” before being forcibly removed by the heavies.

He has always been prepared to stand up for his principles, even when it has meant sabotaging his mainstream standing. One of his biggest hits, 2006’s Grammy-winning “Daydreamin’” (featuring soul icon Jill Scott), ridiculed rappers who flagrantly promoted drug use and misogyny, including the sarcastic rhyme: “Come on everybody let’s make cocaine cool/We need a few more half naked women up in the pool!”

Fiasco’s “retirement” was partly a reaction to some of the excesses of the rap industry. Yet, despite what he describes as a “passionate hatred” for the greed of the music business, he tells me it was impossible to walk away completely: “Rap for me is what I do naturally; the music business is what I choose to do.

“I care about rap, but I don’t care any more about the business side or selling records. I’ve always been a storyteller. When I was in the third grade, I wrote a play about a warring cat and mouse. I will be rapping right until the day I die.”

The artistic freedom that comes with being an independent artist (he left major label Atlantic Records in 2015) has resulted in his best album in years. In the jazz-enthused Drill Music In Zion, which will be released next month, the wordsmith reckons with the fact there were 800 homicides in Chicago in 2021. He mourns the loss of the city’s young drill artists FBG Duck and King Von, both murdered at 26 after their unapologetically macabre storytelling manifested into real-life tragedy. “Fame, all in the name of martyrdom,” Fiasco laments in one powerful new song.

“I will be blunt: I don’t like drill music,” he says of the dark sub-genre of rap that originated in Chicago and is built around warped basslines and morose lyrics. “The structure and segregation of Chicago means you could go from a Gangster Disciples to a Black Disciples hood just by crossing the street. These gangs are killing each other, so how am I going to drive through their neighbourhoods playing drill music out the window that boasts about their friends’ murders?”

Fiasco speaks from experience. “My brother was a high-ranking gang member. I have friends that are Vice Lords, so I get it. But drill scares me because I know what happens at the end of that road: most of you are going to die. We need these drill rappers to live longer, because we need their intellect out in the world. Don’t throw away your lives or your talent by being forced into unsafe situations. As consumers, I believe we need to do a better job of telling them that.”

Given the enormous global popularity of drill, Fiasco’s stance may ruffle feathers. However, anyone who has followed this artist’s career won’t be surprised by his fearlessness.

On his star-making, violin-heavy albums Food and Liquor (2006) and The Cool (2007), he balanced stadium-ready choruses about the lure of fame (“Superstar”) and black kids riding skateboards (“Kick, Push”) with deep cuts that humanised perpetrators (“American Terrorist”) and pointed out the west’s complicity in the use of child soldiers (“Little Weapon”). In this way, he helped continue the tradition of politically conscious rap in mainstream music that has inspired current stars such as Kendrick Lamar, Saba, Chance the Rapper and Noname.

In 2006’s “Conflict Diamonds”, he shone a light on slaves caught up in the trade of precious stones, highlighting the barbaric supply chain supported by bling culture: “Didn’t have a clue the rappers were helping the rapers... Burners of the businesses, and my bracelet was the fuel”. Like all of Fiasco’s best songs, it is full of double meanings waiting to be solved and helps you see the world through the eyes of the disenfranchised.

“Diamonds are shiny and fun for about an hour, right? But there’s also a dark side to how they are created,” he says now. “Have you ever seen a nightclub when the lights are turned on? It’s fucking gross. The paint is cheap, it’s sticky, the floor doesn’t match the walls. But in the darkness, you would never know any of this. It’s my job to shine that light and expose the dark side.”

In the past, he has been frank about his unhappiness with how he was treated by Atlantic Records, but since leaving the company he seems to have reached a more positive place of reflection. “Being on a major label allowed me to play to 40,000 people at Glastonbury. I travelled the world and brought those experiences back home with me. I just wish in those label meetings, where I felt degraded, that I’d shouted even louder.”

Despite only sporadically releasing music, Fiasco still attracts 4mn listens a month on Spotify and is confident his best work lies ahead of him. “We’re not basketball players, who have a limit to their bodies and taper off. Rappers only get more skilled as we get older, because we have more experiences to draw from... It isn’t about living for ever, ​​but living long enough to make a impact in the world that can’t be undone.”

‘Drill Music In Zion’ will be released on June 24

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