Dissect - MX1E6 - "Mural" by Lupe Fiasco (PART 1)

Episode Date: May 9, 2023

Our "Lyrical Masters" mixtape series continues with a line by line dissection of "Mural" by Lupe Fiasco from his 2015 album Tetsuo & Youth. Part 1 of 2. Follow @dissectpodcast on Instagram, TikTok, and Twitter. Host/Writer/EP: Cole Cuchna Producer: Justin Sayles Audio Editing: Kevin Pooler Theme Music: Birocratic Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

There's that cliche, a picture is worth a thousand words. It's no coincidence then that Lupe Fiasco's 2015 song mural, his musical picture, contains well over a thousand words, 1,373 to be exact. By comparison, the average hip-hop song has about 400 words. And according to hip-hop by the numbers, 57% of those words are unique, meaning they're only used once,

and 61% of Lupe's words rhyme. This and a song that's nearly nine minutes long and contains no. hook. True to its names and minerals and vicar than we're in the tubes wrapped around the arm. To see the vein like a chicken on a bond, top cat chat, let's begin another yarn. True to its namesake, the sheer scale of Lupe's mural inspires awe, with each of its densely constructed 157 bars brimming with multiple entendres, punchlines, metaphors, parallel narratives, references, and rhyme schemes.

No doubt it's among the greatest achievements in the history of hip-hop. representing a lyrical master at the peak of his powers, what Lupe at the time compared to a recital, showcasing, quote, everything he's learned so far. Honestly, preparing to analyze this piece felt like staring at the summit of Mount Everest from its base, or like facing the final boss in a video game. But as will come to realize, the difficulty of mural is part of its point, critical to the message it ultimately conveys. It takes discipline and endurance. But the most fulfilling things in life are often on the other side of hard, and those who choose to accept the child. will be sufficiently rewarded, with wisdom, with personal growth, perhaps even transcendence.

And that's kind of how I feel about these next two episodes of Dysect, as our two-part analysis of mural amounts to over 22,000 words and will take you over two hours to complete. It's the most time I've ever spent analyzing a single song, and the two parts together is the longest episode in the show's seven-year history. The analysis is dense, at times extremely tedious, but the hope is those who make it to the end will be adequately rewarded. I know I was. And so, to quote one of Lupe's lines in mural, there ain't nothing to it but to do it. So, let's do it. From Spotify, this is Dissect, long-form musical analysis, broken into short, digestible episodes. For the sixth song in our lyrical master's mix tape,

we're dissecting Lupe Fiasco's epic mural. I'm your host, Cole Kushner. Lupe Fiasco's mural is the second track on his 2015 album, Tetsuo and Youth, an album that represents the conclusion of Lupe's fraught relationship with his then-label Atlantic Records. According to Lupe, constant business disagreements created what he described as a bloodbath between him and Atlantic. This tension came to a head with his third album, 2011's Lasers. The bulk of the album had been finished for years before its eventual release, but according to Lupe, Atlantic's executives were holding its release until he made a splashy hit single. This hit ended up being The Show Goes On, a song whose backstory seems to encapsulate the strained

relationship between Lupe and Atlantic. He told Complex, quote, I didn't have nothing to do with that song. That was the labels record. That was one of those records the record company gave me. They even gave me stuff they wanted me to rap about. That was like the big chip on the table. I had to do it, and it had to be the first single if the record was going to come out. I was used to it because they presented me with like 10 other songs in the same fashion. So for me at that point, it was just another record like, is this a song you want me to do? There was nothing special about it for me at that point. You know we still won off the label, right? That was the conversations we were having.

At that point, I was just drained. I was like, whatever, another song, another day, another dollar. In the years and months leading up to 2015's Tetsuo and Youth, it looked like lasers all over again. Lupe was ready to release the album, but according to Lupe, Atlantic was demanding a hit. Worse still was the fact that Tetsuo and Youth was to be the last album under contract with Atlantic,

meaning once it was released, Lupe would be free. In October of 2014, still without a release date, Lupe tweeted, quote, Atlantic Records won't release the album until they get a pop single, so putting together a mini project while they find one for me. It's called Lost in the Atlantic Ocean, unquote. After this public acknowledgement of the album's delay, the notorious hacktivist collective Anonymous issued an ultimatum on Twitter, threatening that if Atlantic didn't give the album an official release date in 24 hours,

quote, we will launch a direct action against your website, your associates, and your executives, unquote. Less than 24 hours later, Atlantic Records tweeted, quote, Lupe Fiasco's Tetsuo and Youth, 1-2015, unquote. And so it was. On January 20th, 2015, Tetsuo and Youth was released, effectively unshackling Lupe from his contractual obligations. Lupe and mural were free.

Lupe's struggle with Atlantic Records is a thematic pillar of Tetsuo and Use album-long narrative, which weaves Lupe's personal journey into a larger exploration of institutional power, American capitalism, and spiritual, mental, and physical incarceration. Lupe uses his own experience to offer guidance and encouragement on how to transcend these cycles of entrapment. In other words, how to find freedom, how to resurrect anew. How to, as he says on the final song on the album, proceed to the next level. This journey begins with mural, which unfolds lavishly with an extended musical introduction. A soaring female vocalist sweeps over dramatic symbol swells and minor chord piano tremolo.

a musical red carpet escorting us into a museum to view a masterpiece. Produced by Quality Kid, Kyle Keyes, Davidson, and Wiz Buchanan, this introduction is a pitched up sample of the song Chazons de Jure de Verre by French fusion band Cortex. This cortex track is from their 1975 album, Traopout Blu, an album with a deep, rich history, and hip-hop, as it's been sampled in over 140 songs. Specifically, the song sampled in mural is used in over 35 other songs, including Currency's 2013 song, Mary, In the studio, get Pluto, how we late tracks every day, Mujo, Lutho, Luthor, if you grind for it, make this and Shung.

Logic's 2012 track, Dead Presidents 3, and GZ's 2014 song Beautiful. I've got a bad bitch from Vogue, Toto a strike a bow, step to the side and look at them dies, that bitch, beautiful. Mural's use of a classic sample source embeds a subtle layer of music history into Lupe's mural, drawing on the intertwined relationships of jazz and hip-hop, poetry, and rap. As writer Ariel Lana Le Jard wrote for Rolling Stone, quote,

both jazz and hip-hop originated in the United States, and their genealogies are rooted in the Black American experience. The symbiotic relationship is ancestral, dating back to the 1920s Harlem Renaissance, when Langston Hughes innovated reciting poetry over jazz rhythms, inadvertently creating the literary art form of jazz poetry. The connection between the two improvisation-based genres evolved with hip-hop. producer's adoption of break beats, syncopation, and sampling, unquote. As Muriel continues

its extended introduction, we hear for the first time what will become the song's central musical motif. This nudely eight-note riff is what's called an ostinado, the term for a brief repeated musical phrase. Specifically, this ostinado is constructed of eight-sixteenth notes. We're going to hear this phrase repeated over 240 times in mural. While such repetition can easily lead to oral exhaustion, ostinados can often be surprisingly durable. depending on how they're used. For example, there's an entire genre of music called minimalism whose main compositional feature is layering multiple ostinados on top of each other. Despite their subtle rhythmic intricacies, the end result of these brief, repeating musical phrases

is often a hypnotic drone, and it's for this reason that minimalism pieces are often very long, allowing you to become fully immersed in the soundscape. And this is what the ostinato sample in mural achieves. The phrase in and of itself is busy and continuously moving, but the endless repetition of the phrase over time creates a trance-like effect. This uniquely dichotomous musical quality continuously propels the beat forward, creating sustained momentum, while at the same time the droning effect caused by the relentless repetition makes it so that Lupe's lyrics, the centerpiece of the song, remains forever in the foreground, the center of our attention.

In this way, the tracks instrumental is the perfect wall for Lupe's lyrical mural, as murals require a space big enough for a large-scale piece in an environment that complements the art, not distract from it. In other words, to create the necessary scale for a true musical mural, Lupe needed a beat that could go on forever, just like his bars. Lupe begins his ambitious magnum opus with a unifying statement about the human race. We're all chemicals, vitamins, and minerals. With 99% of the human body composed of six elements, oxygen, carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, calcium, and phosphorus,

Lupe reminds us that despite our aesthetic and circumstantial differences, we're all technically more or less the same, composed of the same raw ingredients. Starting his grand mural this way seems to make clear, this piece is for all of us, for humanity at large. The second bar comes with a twist, as Lupe adds an additional element when he says, and Vicodin with inner tubes wrapped around the arm. First, we have to acknowledge the dense rhyme scheme in this opening couplet. Raw, chemical, and mineral all rhyme, as does vitamin and Vicodin.

Meanwhile, vitamin ends with M-I-N, which also begins mineral. Lupe adding the opiate Vicodin to the mix of humans' essential elements has multiple connotations. The most obvious is drug addiction, perhaps a specific example of humanity's more universal addiction to chasing highs or escaping reality with various vices like drugs, sex, violence, entertainment, or materialism. How to elevate yourself beyond these entrapments to reach a higher high or enlightenment is a main theme in Tetsuo and youth, so it makes sense Lupe would centralize it here at the start of the album. With intertubes wrapped around the arm, visualizes the drug reference as Vicodin can be injected for a more potent high, and users will often wrap something

around their arms to expose a vein. While a bike tire's inner tube might be something an unhoused attic would use to do this. We suspect Lupe chose this specific reference for its potential layers, as inner tube also refers to an inner tube used to float in water, a carefree image that pairs nicely with being high. We can also hear the phrase Vicodin with inner tubes as Vicodin within the tubes, an allusion to a syringe full of drugs. The line also links back to the humanity theme, as we think of the various tubes running inside our bodies, intestines, arteries, veins, or even fallopian tubes critical in reproduction. Lupe continues to see the veins, and like a chicken on the barn. The immediate link is the tube around the arm to expose or see a vein

for injection. But vein, spelled V-A-N-E, refers to a device that shows the direction of the wind, also called a weather vein. A common weather vein is fashioned as a decorative chicken mounted on top of a barn. Lupe then builds on this elevated animal thread to say, Top-Cat chat, let's begin another yarn. Top-Cat chat is a combination of both the 1960s cartoon Topcat and an early online messaging system called Cat Chat. With this context, let's start another yarn uses yarn, a cliche cat toy as a substitute for thread, as in an online message board thread. We also recognize that yarn resembles both the shape of veins and tubes and is associated with needles, as in sewing needles, creating a subtle link back to the drug needle in the line before.

Additionally, the character named Topcat on the show was the leader of his group, and yarn is sometimes used to mean story, as in the phrase spin a you. yarn. In this way, Top Cat Chat, let's begin another yarn, might be self-referential to mural. The Top Cat Lupe is about to tell a six-minute story that unravels endlessly like a ball of yarn. Lupe then follows with two intertwined food references. That's Flying Saucer cheese, or is it chicken parm? He plays off the fact cats drink milk from a saucer, but also that cat in French is chat, giving new context to Top Cat chat. This in combination with the Flying Saucer Cheese reference becomes a nod to a specific French cheese made

from cat's milk called fromage to chat, which comes in the shape of a wheel that resembles a flying saucer, hence flying saucer cheese. Meanwhile, chicken parm or parmesan is a dish that features a breaded chicken breast topped with cheese, which links together Lupe's previously separate references to chicken and cheese. It's also a clever way to illustrate Top Cat Chat, as the cheese is literally on top of the chicken. But Lupe here is also asking a question, is it flying saucer cheese or is it chicken parm? With flying saucers commonly associated with conspiracy theories, it seems like he's asking us if what he's spinning is bullshit, i.e. cheesy conspiracy theories, or something of actual substance, a full meal. This sets up his next couplet, which continues

the power dynamics of our current system. He wraps, but roosters don't fly like boosters don't buy. So what powers cowards to get them to the top? Continuing the chicken and drug imagery, Loube compares roosters not flying to boosters, slaying for those who steal something to in the street, a tactic some addicts used to fund their drug habit. He then pivots to the question about how cowards, also called chickens, make it to the top of the barn, so to speak, recalling their original weather-veined imagery. When considered together, Lupe seems to be commenting simultaneously on the music industry and the current socio-political powers in America.

In terms of the music industry, he's wondering how less talented artists top the charts, i.e. the chickens sitting on top of the barn despite not having the talent to fly. Meanwhile, Topcats like himself struggle because the masses don't buy his projects, just like boosters don't buy. He also might be drawing our attention to the fact that no one buys records anymore in the streaming era. And if that's the case, how are these artists reaching the top? Well, they sign bad contracts.

They give the record label a piece of their touring, their merch, and every other income stream, something that's referred to as a 360 deal. They also compromise their art to make commercially appealing music, something of course Lupe struggled with while signed to Atlantic. This then becomes a larger metaphor for the ways our government, the power cowards at the top, have historically written the rules in their favor at the expense of the working class, hoarding the majority of the wealth while keeping the marginalized and trapped in generational cycles of poverty, leading to the boosters that don't buy.

Lupe ties a bow on this analogy with a follow-up question, so what powers cowards to get them to the top, just to fall asleep listening to Bach? This is one of those lines you just have to shake your head out, because watch how it threads or yarns together every metaphor so far. with Johann Sebastian Bach or classical music stereotypically associated with wealth, it's the power cowards at the top who are falling asleep to this music. They are out of touch, relaxing and their expensive loss on the top floor, not even listening to or knowledgeable about the music they're selling,

not knowledgeable about what's happening in the poverty-stricken streets below. Second, Lupe likely chose to reference Bach specifically because Bach was extremely underappreciated while he was alive. Like too many great artists, it was only after his death that he became the celebrated composer and household name we know today. It's likely Lupe is comparing himself to the box of the world. He's not selling records like the top artist, but his music will eventually be appreciated. Finally, the last layer of this brilliant line is revealed when we think about the sound a chicken makes. Bach.

Just to fall asleep, listen in the box. The ribbon in the sky is the ribbon that I drop. Dribble in the eye across the prism of a clock that lacks meaning, but racks up stacks of fat re and the cat's chief and wrapped up plants from trap. For the first a coffin with a scratch ceiling And what's the talking without the match feeling? It's berry living and cherry picking every lemon from your berry system. Then proceed with the pack feeding. For the first time in the song, Lupe uses a pronoun, the first clear reference to himself.

He raps, The Ribbon in the Sky is the Ribbon That I Drop. This feels like a reference to the well-known Stevie Wonder song Ribbon in the Sky from 1982. As Stevie sings here, The Ribbon in the Sky, wraps a description of a colorful sunset, represents the love he shares with a woman. Lubei's reference deepened so when we realized Jay Z actually quoted Ribbon in the Sky First and the Rulers Back, the opening track of his classic album, The Blueprint. Jay kicks off the opening verse of the album, Gather Round Hustlers, that's if you're still living, and get on down to that old jig. It's a couple of Jews to help you get through your bit in prison. A ribbon in the sky, keep your head high. Jay kicks off the opening verse of the album, Gather Round Hustlers,

that's if you're still living, and get on down to that old Jig rhythm. Here's a couple of jewels to help you get through your bid in prison. A ribbon in the sky, keep your head high. Jay offers the album as a beacon of hope to the imprisoned, a representation of someone like them who is able to escape the entrapments of poverty and marginalization. In this way, Jay is the ribbon in the sky that, if looked at or listened to, will keep their heads high, will continue to provide them hope. It seems clear Lupe is quoting Jim.

quoting Stevie, offering himself and his music in a similar way. Just listen to the wording again. The ribbon in the sky is the ribbon that I drop. Lupe is dropping gems or knowledge, but Ribbon can also be heard as a homophone for rhythm, the Jamaican patois pronunciation of rhythm, calling back to Jay-Z's line and get on down to that old jig rhythm. Here's a couple of jewels to help you get through your bid in prison.

It's no surprise that Lupe then raps about the in prison as he continues. They catch chief and wrapped up plants from trap dealings. With a subtle play on Alfred Hitchcock's film To Catch a Thief, this line seems to describe a drug dealer or kingpin being caught in imprisoned. But the mention of chief and trap dealings also nods to Chicago rapper Chief Keith, who led the surge of drill music, an aggressive, darker offshoot of trap music. Lupe continues his focus on the in prison as he wraps,

Now what's a coffin with a scratch ceiling? And what's the talking without the match feeling? That's buried living. Lupe provides two scenarios to illustrate being buried alive, perhaps likening the streets in prison to an inescapable coffin, linking back to the running theme of entrapment. But coffin can also be heard coughing, making scratched a nod to a scratchy throat, which makes us cough. This sets up the next question, what's the talking without the match feeling? Painting a scenario of isolation, like someone talking to themselves in a prison cell.

Match here could also be interpreted as a match that makes a fire. Thus, match feeling is a way of saying, what's the talking without fire, without spark, without passion. In this way, Lupe seems to be continuing the layer around commercial artists whose music lacks authenticity and passion. Meanwhile, Lupe is trapped in his record deal, unable to talk, so to speak, unable to release music because he refuses to make inauthentic music. Thus, Lupe is the one buried alive despite trying to escape his deal, with his attempts to escape symbolized by the scratch ceiling of the coffin. With the following lines, he sustains the double analogy, saying, and cherry-picking, every lemon from your berry system. Then proceed with the pack feeding.

To cherry pick is to take the best from a group, but Lupe flips this definition a bit, because what's being picked are lemons, the sour fruit, but also lemon as a dud or something that doesn't work. This again seems to refer to both the imprisoned and Lupe himself, the lemons of society and the music industry, removed by the powers that be to maintain their safe, sugary sweet system void of complexity. Then proceed with the pack feeding seems to compare sugary foods with commercial music,

the music of the masses that lacks substance. When I was young, I had visions of another world, sneaking looks at the porn stash and my brother hurl, incense, smoke-made fortresses and other curls, casting calls for porn films and ad space for rubber girls. I like my pancakes, cut and swirls, Moroccan mows and undercover squirrels. I like cartoons, southern cities with large moons,

faith healers, ex-female drug dealers and art booms. As Mural continues, Lupe shifts away from the analogies that began the verse, as his second use of her pronoun gives way to memories of his youth. He begins this section, When I was young, I had visions of another world. Here at the onset of the album, Lupe is already exploring the youth and Tetsuo in youth. While we're set up to believe his visions of another world might allude to the promise of youth to bring with them a better future, the world Lupe's actually referring to is articulated

in the next line, sneaking looks at the porn stash of my brother Harold. Turns out this moment is a loss of innocence, seeing for the first time the debaucheries of humanity, the world of temptation and indulgence. It seems Lupe's brother is actually named Harold, as he routinely wishes someone named Harold Huggy Bear Perkins a happy birthday on social media, each time referring to him as his big brother. He then uses seductive, hypnotic imagery to describe how he's entranced by this world, wrapping incense smoke made vortices and other curls, before describing the contents of the magazine,

casting calls from porn films and add space for rubber girls. These graphic images are then immediately juxtaposed with more traditional images of childhood. I like my pancakes cut and swirls, Moroccan moles and undercover squirrels. The latter line describes the Hannah-Barbera cartoon Secret Squirrel, which is about a squirrel spy and his sidekick named Morocco Mole. Together with the pancake reference, we have an image of a typical Saturday morning for a child, eating breakfast, watching cartoons. Thus we get the following line, I like cartoons, Southern Cities with Large Moons, Faith Healers, Ex-Female Drug Dealers, and Art Booms. While cartoons here is a direct continuation of the Secret

squirrel reference, Lupe might also be speaking to his love of cartoons as an adult, as he's well known for his love of anime. Tetsuo from the album title is at least in part of reference to Tetsuoshima from Akira, and Lupe even had a rock band called Japanese cartoon, which released a project in 2010. The nod to faith healers seems less about the pseudoscience of healing through miracles performed by fraudulent pastors, but rather to faiths or religion's ability to transform an individual. Lupe was raised Muslim and in an interview he once said, quote, We're human, we have faults, we make mistakes. That's what religion is for, to help you correct your mistakes.

Lupe's reference to southern cities with large moons could simply state his preferences for cities like Atlanta, New Orleans, Houston, Memphis, and Miami, the so-called Southern Network and rap music. In this way, the previous I like cartoons could also be heard cartoons or Southern music heard in cars. But Southern Cities with Large Moons could also be describing as preference for black women with large butts. Recall this current string of Lupe's preferences began with him describing a porno magazine, and it's possible he's been coding his preference for different types of women throughout this section. For example, Moroccan moles could refer to Moroccan women, with Islam being the dominant religion in Morocco. Meanwhile, undercover squirrels could refer to Islamic women wearing

traditional hijab or head coverings. Also note how squirrels could be bent to sound like girls. Lupe's reference to ex-female drug dealers seems to cement this layered collage of childhood, women and TV shows, as it refers to the black female character, Cookie, in the show Empire, which is about a hip-hop record label owned by an ex-drug dealer. After Tetsuone youth was released, Lupe tweeted a graphic for the show Empire with the text, Team Cookie, that's why I love female ex-drug dealers. Cookie, played by black actress Taraji P. Henson, served a 17-year sentence for drug trafficking. As a whole, Lupe's extensive list of references paints a portrait of his eclectic mix of personal interests and preferences. As the track continues,

he apologizes for the randomness, yet follows by stating an even more random mix of images and objects. That's right after the break. Welcome back to dissect. Before the break, we heard Lupe references childhood through a string of imagery that included cartoons, pancakes, and porno mags. He continues the verse apologizing for his random references, only to proceed with a string of references that are even more abstract and cryptic. Luffy and clear bricks And smells like shotguns and deer piss They on a hunt

Kind of salty that I'm going hard First part of a party That I throw in pods One minute you playing pool Next minute you throwing darts But that's how you do with a party That you throw in bars I run the gambit like I'm throwing cards

Popular mechanics to overdose and hard Lubei acknowledges the seemingly disparate list of his interests rapping Apologize for My Weird Mix Doesn't seem like he's very sorry though as he then follows up with a riddle which contains an even weirder mix of images, what tastes like hot dogs and tear drips, and looks like pantomime and clear bricks, and smells like shotguns and deer piss.

The common denominator here is salt. Hot dogs and tears taste salty, pantomimes wear white gloves and white face paint, the color of common salt. Clear bricks refers to the translucency of solid salt. Shotguns can be loaded with rock salt shells, and deer piss or urine is salty. Hence we get the next line, they on their hunt, kind of salty that I'm going hard. This formally answers all three riddles and seems to describe Lupe's haters who are mad or salty about the skill and complexity of his rhymes. It could also

specifically describe his record label who's salty about its refusal to make hollow music for the masses, and instead make seven-minute long raps with no hooks like mural. This interpretation would make sense given the aforementioned nod to Empire just a few lines back, which is a show about a record label. Lupe continues to be self-referential as he says, First part of a party that I throw in parts. Here, the first part is likely referring to the part of Tetsuo and youth we're currently in, as the album is divided into three parts, summer, fall, and winter, with the current song mural being a part of part one.

But also recall Lupe just reference to hunting party looking for him. Thus, we realize he's also extending the animosity between him and his label, as he says, one minute you're playing pool, next minute you're throwing darts. But that's how you do with a party, that you throw in bars. Pool and darts are both games played in bars. These are the different parts of the party he just referred to. But of course, bars are also rap lyrics, while pool and darts are likely being used to represent contrasting moods, pool being friendly and darts being hostile.

This progression would seem to describe his relationship with the hunting party, the record label, a relationship that started friendly but ended hostile and salty. But remember the party was also describing the album itself, the source of the hostility, and in this way, the progression from Playing pool to playing darts also describes the structure of the album. In terms of its narrative, Tetsuo and youth is sequenced in reverse order. It tells the story backwards. It begins in summer with the songs Mural, Blur My Hands, and Dots and Lines being the brightest, most celebratory songs on the album.

It then progresses into fall and ends in winter, where Aloupe details the darker realities of the violent streets of Chicago where he grew up. This album-long progression from light to dark is alluded to in the progression from pool to darts. Pool, as in swimming pool, is something you do in summer, while darts are also weapons, and perhaps could describe bullets shot from a gun. In the following line, Lupe acknowledges the ground he just covered, saying, I run the gamut like I'm throwing cards. To run the gamut is to encompass an entire range of something,

but Gamut is also a homophone for Gambit, the X-Man who throws playing cards charged with kinetic energy, like Lupe charging his words with complex layers. Playing cards, of course, continues the bar games theme, while running the gamut continues Lupe's claim of run. running the rap game. He then offers another wide range when he wraps from popular mechanics to overdosing heart. Somehow Lupe continues to thread together related on Tondras, as this can apply again to playing cards, the rap game, and the structure of the album. In terms of playing cards,

the mechanic and popular mechanics refers to a card mechanic, the name for someone extremely skilled with a deck of cards. Meanwhile, the heart and overdosing heart refers to the heart suit in a deck of cards. In terms of the rap game, Lupe is claiming his ability to make a range range of music. He can make popular music and he can make mechanical or technically complex music. The actual magazine Popular Mechanics prides itself in presenting complex information in a way that everyone can understand. Hence their tagline for decades was, written so you can understand it. So popular mechanics together is a boast about Lupe's ability to create technically complex music that's still enjoyable or relatable. But his range also extends to overdosing heart.

This could either be a reference to the aforementioned trap music as overdosed is associated with drug use. Or overdosing heart could be a description of emotionally riveting, heart-touching music. Finally, like pool to darts, the third layer here describes Tetsuo and youth sonic progression. Popular mechanics, i.e. complex lyricism that still appeals to the masses, describes the first part of the album, songs like Blur My Hands and Dots and Lines. Meanwhile, overdosing Heart and its reference to trap music describes the third part of the album and its darker trap-influenced sonic.

As Mural progresses, Lupe continues his self-referential barrage of analogies about his rap skills, incorporating a wide range of references from Canadian landscapes to complex mathematical fractal. Popular mechanics, stu-a-dosein hard, pink-cold pitchers like Nova Scotian landscapes, nerd gang, McMando Brat sets when we handshake a word gang back. Up plan that can damn lakes back up the word plain plan that the man states means I can still be the man if the damn breaks and when the man breaks some reflections what they can't face but pyrr still treat the mirror like it's a fan base the unfaqa continues with an extended run of bars describing his lyrical style he begins paint cold pictures like nova scotia landscapes comparing his lyrical

imagery to a painting which of course is appropriate in a song titled mural Nova Scotia, a province in eastern Canada, is known for its wide-ranging climate, very cold, snowy winters, and pleasantly warm summers, continuing the range motif of the previous bars. In its coldest months, aerial photos of the snow-covered province resemble an abstract painting. Hence Lupe's comparison of Nova Scotia landscapes and his cold pictures. In the next line, nerd gang MacBanelbrot sets when we handshake, Lupe acknowledges all the nerdy references in his lyrics.

He's playing off the fact that gangs, also called sets, have special handshakes among their members. But Lupe keeps a gang of nerds, and therefore their secret handshake resembles a mandelbrot set, a complex set of numbers and a famous fractal and mathematics. You've likely seen a mandelbrot set on the internet in the form of a jiff. It's those colorful, psychedelic, geometric images that zooms infinitely into itself. Given that Lupe has been describing himself as a lyricist in these past few lines,

it's likely he's comparing his lyrics to the mandelbrot set, as they reveal more and more layers the longer you look into him. And with listeners like us being the ones doing the looking, the gang referenced here seems to be Lupe and his fans, and our handshake is the interaction between us and his music. The next lines more explicitly references lyricism, a word game backup plan that can dam lakes. Backup the word play ain't playing at the man's states. First we see Lupe's continuing the game motif here, with word game and word play. In other words, words are Lupe's game of choice.

He compares the density and size of his word game to an enormous dam before stating that wordplay or intelligent lyricism isn't playing in the man's states, which seems to again reference the masses. It's also possible that back up the wordplay is actually an instruction, as in read this line backwards. And when we do, we see that it works in reverse. The man's states ain't playing wordplay. Lupe is giving us literal wordplay games and the line about boasting about his wordplay. Lupe then continues the damn motif saying, means I can still be the man if the dam breaks, and when demand breaks, I'm reflexious what they can't face. hearer will still treat the mirror like it's a fan base. This seems to again address his record label.

If the dam breaks, if shit hits the fan, if demand breaks or his music is no longer wanted, Lupe will be unfazed, as popularity isn't what he's striving for. He's got a word game backup plan to fall back on, which is his art, his craft, the thing that matters most to him. There's also some clever detail in the imagery here, as a dam breaking would release water. Water is reflective, hence Lupe being reflexious when the dam breaks. What they can't fail, continues the reflective theme, as in seeing yourself reflected on the water's surface. It's also commenting on the fact his record label can't fathom the fact Lupe would be unfazed if he lost his audience or major label backing.

This gives way to the line Emperor will still treat the mirror like it's a fan base. Emperor is a nickname Lupe used to call himself early in his career, and so he's looking at himself in the mirror and seeing the only fan base he needs, himself. This line foreshadows one of Tetsuone used central messages, which is being your own number one fan. It's actually the main subject of the song that follows mural, Blur My Hands. Now there's actually more to the line, Emperor will still treat the mirror like it's a fan base. Let's listen to the line again and focus on how Lupe pronounces Emperor

as he stretches the middle syllable to sound like Pier. Stretching the middle syllable in this way allows Empirer to rhyme with Mirror. Also think about what Peer means, to look at something, which cleverly ties into him looking or peering into the mirror. But peer also means companion or contemporary, again tying into him looking in the mirror and seeing the only fan or peer he needs himself. Like it's a fan base, the unfettered veteran,

an eagle-feathered man of medicine that hovers above cities like weather, like chance of rain when it's rain and rain like deer slaves, Santa Claus, slave man, but rain like queens that rain over made man and not queen like queen, like queen, killer, Rhapsody, bohem queen, but queen like, White glove wave hand And I wave hand

Like it's a heat wave So you make a fan by waving your hand I'm talking wave like you saying hey Man Lupe once again spins a tightly wound rhyme scheme Where every syllable of every word rhymes with at least one other syllable The unfettered veteran

The Eagle Feathered Man of Medicine Being a veteran of the rap game Dubbing himself unfettered Which means unrestrained or unshackled Continues the theme of being free from outside pressures Like a record label In Native American culture eagle feathers are symbolic of honor, strength, and bravery,

and were often awarded to warriors after they won a battle or were especially brave. In other words, they're given to war veterans, linking back to Lupe the unfettered veteran who's free as a bird. Continuing the indigenous thread, he compares himself to a medicine man. The eagle feathers tie into this too, as they're believed to contain strong medicine and power the great spirit or divine. This deity-like imagery extends into the next line

that hovers above cities like weathermen or maybe weatherwoman, whatever better to tell your weather coming. Lupe makes clear his indiscriminate nature and alludes to the truth about medicine men, that despite the nomenclature, women often assume the role of medicine healer in native cultures. There's also a chance he's extending the X-Men reference from a few lines back,

as a powerful weather woman that hovers over cities is a pretty apt description of storm, the wise ex-woman who has the ability to control the weather. Lupe plays off the hovering weatherwoman image to say, I prefer girls to rain all over the world. It's a straightforward statement of women's empowerment, but it's not without wordplay, as Lubei seems to be alluding to the famous song by the Weather Girls, It's Rain, It's Raining Men, as he's now said weather, girls, rain, and men all in the last two lines.

Contrary to the statement, it's raining men, Lupe would like to see more women raining or in power. It's possible then that I prefer girls to rain all over the world is also a reference to the song Girls by Beyonce. Within this threat of women's empowerment, Lupe might have been subtly addressing female sexual liberation here as well. In the previous line, whatever better to tell your weather coming, coming could refer to an orgasm, while rain could reference women getting wet during sex. Sexual empowerment was a large part of the feminist movement in the 1960s, and that work continues

to this day, so this layer would make sense given the context. Also, given the historical association between rain and women in hip-hop, one might think Lupe here means to make it rain, or throw money at strippers. But Lupe takes extended measures to ensure his statement is not construed in this objectified way, as he continues by clarifying exactly what type of rain he means. He wraps, and not rain like Rain Man or Rain like Rain Dance. Rain Man, of course, references the classic film of the same name, which stars Dustin Hoffman playing an autistic savant. But in one of Lupe's more subtly brilliant layers, this also refers to Jay-Z, Beyonce's husband. Jay-Z was known to call himself the Rain Man due to his writing process where he doesn't write anything down but rather mumbles to himself while writing in his head

which he compared to the rain man character i think it's very important i mean to add layers into your music you know when people can listen like a year later and say oh man i just realized you said such and such and such you know so it's like a gift that keeps giving i don't write lyrics down i just listen to the track and then just going in i do it um you know so it's like a mumbling effect in rain man he was always mumbling all these numbers rattling off these amazing numbers. He was like, I guess, an idiot savant in the movie Dustin Hoffman. So I guess I'm an idiot's fine as well.

Lube also extends the indigenous thread by saying, or rain like rain dance, a nod to the dance ritual that attempts to invoke rain in many Native American tribes. He continues, or rain like a slight chance of rain when it's rain in. While a general play on weathermen and women forecasting the weather, it's likely Lupe is having a little fun here,

evoking the comedy Mean Girls, a title that fits perfectly within this female-centered stanza. In one of the more well-known scenes that eventually became a meme, the character Karen Smith uses her breasts to predict chances of rain when it's already raining. Hi, this is Karen Smith. It's 68 degrees, and there's a 30% chance that it's already raining. Lube's clarification continues, A rain like deer slaves to Santa Claus Sleigh Man. He's playing off the rain in Reindeer's, which he calls Santa's Deer's Deer's slaves, as they are made to pull an oversized sleigh and in some depictions are whipped by Santa.

But also notice the subtle callback to dears from the line smells like shotgun and deer piss. Like the Storm X-Men reference, just because a few lines have passed since a reference doesn't mean Lupe's forgotten about it, and we'll find these types of callbacks more and more as mural continues. Finally, Lupe lands on the rain he actually meant, saying, but rain like queens that rain overmade men. Rain here, of course, is R-E-I-G-N, as in a royal authority such as a monarch. Lupe's insertion of Queen here likely nods specifically to a Queen regnant, the title for a female monarch, equivalent in rank entitled to a king, and not simply a king's wife. His inclusion of Queen also sends him on another clarification spree as he raps,

and not Queen like Killer Queen, Rhapsody Bohem Queen. Both Killer Queen and Bohemian Rhapsody are of course songs by the British rock band Queen. He then links this British reference to another, but Queen like White Glove Wave Hand, referring to the British Queen. custom of wearing white gloves in public and waving to the people. He continues and not wave hand like it's a heat wave, so you make a fan by waving your hand. On one hand, Lupe is calling back to the previous weather motif, citing a heat wave, and the waving action you make with your hand to cool yourself off. But he's also threading together the fan-based reference from earlier, as the line could be interpreted as a fan waving to a celebrity they recognize. Hence we get the line,

I'm talking, wave like you saying, hey man. Lupe paints a scenario in which you, his fan, the person listening right now, says hey or hi to him in public. Finally, Lupe ends this run with a bit of silliness saying, and not hey for horses or horses like you almost voiceless, with this latter phrase referring to a horse or raspy voice. This entire passage of over-explaining what his references are and aren't is interesting, as it gives us a peek to how Lupe's mind works when he's playing with words, as he's basically showing off everything he could do with a word like rain, queen, or wave, but is choosing not to. Of course, by saying out loud the definition, he's choosing to omit. He's actually giving them to us anyway, just with the caveat that is

not what he meant. It's wordplay about wordplay. It's meta-flow, but not meta like a like for your grandma's face on Facebook, but meta like four metaphors about a metaphor. Like you saying, hey, man, and not hate for horses and horses like you almost voiceless. You got to treat your vocal cords like it's a fortress and treat every single one in your words like reinforcements and especially when you're recording because that's the portion that's important when I was reporting that I was poor. Loube builds up the heels on my sugar hills in sweet spots, crying shames, make margarita rims from cheap tops deep plots.

Lubey builds up the hoarse voiceless motif to describe the importance of one's ability to speak, rapping, you got to treat your vocal chords like it's a fortress and treat every single one of your words like reinforcements. Without a voice, you can't speak, or without the right words, you have nothing to say. As alluded to in the previous verse, Lubei prizes his lyrical craft above all else. It's why he became unwilling to exchange it for commercial success or to appease his label. Beyond this, protecting one's individual voice is essential in maintaining your independence within a governed society.

So it makes sense that Lupe describes it as a fortress, a place of defense or security. In other words, your voice and your words must be protected at all costs. He continues, and especially when you're recording, because that's the portion that's important. When I was reporting that, I was poor. Lupe proves to us how much he treats every single word with care, as we recognize the emphasis here on the consonants poor, portion, important, reporting, and poor as in poverty. We also recognize another callback to an earlier motif, as Lupe describes reporting on what pores, you know, like a weatherman reporting rain. Given the back-to-back mention of

recording and his poverty reporting, it seems Lupe is referring to his early records like food and liquor, which centered his upbringing in the streets of Chicago. He then counters saying, but now I'm more than. While we might assume he means more than poor, he doesn't doesn't actually complete the phrase, a technique called comparative deletion, where what's being compared is left vague. It's not like Lupe to brag about his material wealth, so perhaps leaving it vague intentionally allows for ambiguity, evoking the more than or greater than symbol, a general marker for being great. But there might be a stronger possibility at play when we incorporate the next line. It's still hooker heels on my sugar hills and sweet spots. Hooker heels

refers to clear high heels, which sex workers and strippers are known to wear. So it's possible here that Lupe is cleverly acknowledging the missing word of the previous bar. He left it clear, left it blank. The line itself continues his reporting on his city, as he describes sex workers and drug houses in the streets of Chicago, meaning that while Lupe himself has become more than, or escaped this environment, nothing much has changed in his hometown. Thus he describes the scene as, crying shames make margarita rims from cheap tops. A crying shame describes a situation that is sad or pitiful, which Lupe seems to feel about the condition of Chicago. Meanwhile, margarita rims are lined with salt.

The layers here are dense. First, there's the through line of clear. The hooker heels, tears, and salt are all clear. There's also the threat of salty, with tears and salt, hearkening back to the answer to Lupe's extended three-part riddle earlier in the song. Cheap Top seems to play off Top being slang for oral sex, which sex workers provide for cheap in this scenario. But also recall Lupe just said sugar heels and sweet spots to refer to drug houses.

Thus we get salty sweet wordplay here. but also the salt rocks on margarita rims could be a reference to crack rocks. In this way, cheap tops might refer to cheap ingredients used to cut or top off the cocaine mix when cooking crack. The rims from cheap tops, deep plots and floor the ceiling windows, and drop in a hundred words for them, he's dropping fan out like peacocks with a parakeet that bee box, so the sunrise when the beat drop and the sun dies when the beat stops. Tides, then it relax, then it relaps and the detox, then heat back like a heat pack on his kneecaps at the wee spot

because he want what we got like, yeah. Lupe continues the sweet spot Cheapotops rhyme scheme, wrapping deep plots in floor-to-ceiling windows for my peepots. First, we notice how windows extends the clear motif from the previous lines. And given that those lines describe the poverty-stricken conditions of ghettos, deep plots might allude to the U.S. government's long, deep history of strategically putting minority populations at an economic disadvantage. Thus, continuing the poverty motif in floor to sealing windows for my pea pots,

seems to play on the phrase without a pot to piss in or a window to throw it out of, which is used to mean completely broke. But while Lupe's line is based on this phrase, what he's actually describing seems to be a luxury, top floor view with floor-to-ceiling windows. While this might be the view he enjoys now being more than, Lupe hasn't shown any interest in bragging about his wealth or material possessions. Rather, it's more likely he's describing the view enjoyed by the wealthy who construct those deep plots to keep minorities disadvantaged.

If this is the case, Lupe is contrasting the reason. rich and poor visually to reflect a hierarchy, the poor on the ground level, the streets, and the wealthy on top enjoying the scenic view. This might inform the next line, a little scene with the sickle swings to make the wheat drop. The scene here is workers in a field, using sickles to cut wheat. Given the previous lines, it conjures images of the enslaved in a field, with sickle associated with sickle cell anemia, a disease that disproportionately affects Africans. This begins an extended scene in which Lubay describes a farm, analogizing the the music industry and the artists therein, harvesting crops or profitable products.

He wraps 100 words for them hummingbirds that like to eavesdrop and fan out like peacocks, with a parakeet that beatbox. Lupe uses three different birds to describe the fans of artists. The hummingbirds eavesdrop or listen while humming or singing along. Meanwhile, fan out means to act like an enthusiastic groupie, which Lupe compares to a peacock fanning out its feathers. Also, parakeets are known to repeat words or phrases spoken by humans, like fans repeating lyrics from an artist. Finally, some parrots can literally beatbox.

It's also possible these lines simultaneously refer to Lupe's somewhat infamous Twitter beefs with various rappers like Kid Cuddy, Chief Keefe, and Azalea Banks. A hundred words is about the average length of a tweet, while a hummingbird resembles Twitter's small bird logo, and eavesdrop refers to overhearing a private conversation, like animus Twitter exchanges playing out in a public space. Lupe recognizes how his Twitter beefs stir attention, telling Billboard, quote, you realize, oh, this is a game, let's play this controversy sells game. Let me just engage this fan and have people watch this conversation, unquote. Lupe then continues the farm and nature-related imagery, saying,

So the sun rise when the beat drops and the sun dies when the beat stops. The beat, of course, literally stops at this moment in the song, a clever use of text painting, where the music resembles or matches the words. Within the context of the previous bird bars, we first think of morning birds that begin chirping at dawn, which Lupe compares to fans who sing along as soon as the beat drops or the music starts. With its connotations of violence, beat can also extend the Twitter beef analogy, a comment on how these momentary flare-ups are short-lived and don't really mean anything, that the people paying attention don't actually care. It's just a form of entertainment,

and they move on quickly as soon as the drama subsides. Finally, Lupe is clearly playing off the fact that the sun emits heat, as he says, and the sun dies when the beat stops. It seems he's commenting on commercial artists or rappers who are hot for a moment, garnering fans who sing along to their hot single, only to be abandoned when the sun dies, when the beat stops, when their five minutes of fame is over. In the same way the sun rises and sets every day, these flash and the pan artists come and go.

This leads to the following lines which maintain this on and off cycle, then it unties, then it relocks, then it relapse, then it detox. Here at the end of Muriel's massive first verse, Lupe returns to its start, recalling the opening imagery of a user wrapping or tying off their arm before a drug injection. Relapse and detox cements the drug analogy while comparing artists who continually chased their past success to an addict chasing a high. It's also possible Lupe is playing off Eminem's 2009 album Relapse,

produced in large part by Dr. Dre, as well as Dre's own highly anticipated detox album that was never released. These references would make sense within the context of the addict and music metaphors, as Eminem's Relapse was the first album M released after going to rehab, and it was also a deliberate attempt to return to what made him hot. M said, quote, I feel like I just needed to go back to what got me here in the first place. Relapse is the return of Slim Shady, unquote.

The Eminem reference seems cemented in Lupe's next line, then heat back like a heat pack on his kneecap of the weak spot. Weak knees here seems to allude to the iconic opening line of Eminem's biggest hit. Beyond the Eminem wordplay, then heat back. like a heat pack on his kneecaps of the weak spot, returns to the hot analogy of the sun, this time describing a user heating up drugs and a spoon by comparing it to a heat pack applied to an injury. Knee cap thus becomes a play on needle caps used to cover the tip of a syringe's needle. There's also the question of why someone's knees would be weak in this analogy,

the answer to which seems to be because they've been on their knees begging for another fix. This gets us to the final line of the verse because we got what he want. Lupe is the dealer in the scenario, perhaps comparing his music and the wisdom therein to the fix the music industry or society needs. But the wording here is interesting as he specifically says what we got, not what I got. Perhaps it was a choice to fit the alliteration and rhyme scheme, as we rhymes with he, while we, what, and want all begin with W. But also recall that one of the layers in the lines leading up to this final bar seemed to reference hot rappers coming and going like the sun, perpetually chasing that next fix in the form of a new hit single.

Meanwhile, throughout the verse, Lupe has been talking about staying true to himself and his art, protecting his words like a fortress, and being uninterested in chasing a mass audience with hit songs. As he said, he treats his mirror like a fan base, and he also has a nerd gang of loyal fans who will always support and appreciate his artistry. So with this in mind, because he want what we got,

seems to mean the hit-chasing Flash in the Pan rapper desires the authentic connection and sustainable relationship Lupe has with his nerd gang, as it allows him to be unburdened by the pressure to make hits and instead enjoy the artistic freedom to follow his creative instincts. You know, like opening an album with an abstract, near nine-minute-long stream of consciousness with no hooks. Now there's one more thing about the final line of Murals' first verse, and admittedly it might approach conspiracy theory.

But this is one of the challenging parts about analyzing Lupe's work, as he clearly puts incredible thought and detail into his art, and he prides himself on constructing lines, songs, and entire albums that contain multiple layers. Understanding this, it's often hard to know when the intentional layers end and your own overreaching theories begin. My personal way of navigating this dynamic is to always consider the context, what's come before and what comes after a specific line, because as we've seen throughout this verse, Lupe almost always builds off of previous ideas, symbols, and metaphors. No matter how seemingly random an image or reference may be,

it always relates to something that's been said or a larger idea being explored through metaphor. And so with that being said, I have to point out something about this final line as it relates to the entire verse. As we discuss, Lupe says what we got, the emphasis being on we. This is the third time Lupe has said we in the song. The first time was the first word of the first word. line were all chemicals, vitamins, and minerals. The second time comes in the line, Nerd Gang, make Mantelbrot sets when we handshake. Interestingly, this is the 36th bar, the middle point of the 72 bar verse. And then, of course, the final line, the 72nd bar,

is because he want what we got. So the only three times Lupe says we in this verse are the exact beginning, middle, and end, a subtle structural symmetry that reflects Lupe's attempt to address humanity at large, which was made clear by the verse's opening line about all of us being composed of the same fundamental ingredients. Of course, this perfect symmetry could be coincidental, and I probably wouldn't have brought it up if it weren't for something else about this final line of the verse, something else that involves structural symmetry.

But first, let's remember that this album is called Tetsuo and Youth, two words divided by an ampersand. Let's also recall it's divided into parts, separated by interludes named after the four seasons. Finally, let's recall that early in the verse, Lupe self-referentially said, first part of a party that I throw in parts. Okay, so where's this going? Well, mural has a total running time of 8 minutes and 48 seconds. Within this 8 minutes and 48 seconds are two long verses,

which are divided by a brief instrumental break. And the final line of the first verse we just heard just so happens to end precisely at 4 minutes and 24 seconds, exactly to the very second middle point of the song. So objectively speaking, mural is divided perfectly in half. Is this a a coincidence, or could it be reflecting a larger or more intricate symmetrical structure? And if so, why? What does it mean? We'll get into that on part two of this two-part party thrown in parts. Next time on Dysect. Today's episode of Dysect was written and produced by me, Kohl-Kushna. If you enjoyed this episode, please tell a friend about the show or share on social media and tag at Dysect podcast. Audio editing by Kevin Poole, theme music by Bureaucratic. All right, thanks everyone. Talk to you

next week.