The socially conscious hip-hop movement is becoming increasingly mainstream — and, of course, up is not a bad way to go. But musical popularity has morphed a cry for political and social change into an easily-stereotyped genre of anti-bling, anti-Bush cliches pounding itself over the head with repetitive black-and-whiteness.
When Dead Prez slid into the scene at the turn of the 21st century with Let’s Get Free, an infectious “fuck the law” call to revolution, the rebellious underground hip-hop mentality was alive and bangin’. The problem, however — a dilemma the duo (M-1 and Stic Man) would try to fix over two mixtapes and 2004’s Revolutionary But Gangsta — is that blasting a tight beat and shouting “We Want Freedom” to the choir might not make much of a change. RBG was a miniature movement. Swatches of red, black and green bandana transcended the cover art to adorn many a wrist, and underground hit “Hell Yeah,” featuring Jay-Z, united independence with superstardom.
M-1’s solo effort picks up where RBG left off, but something has changed: As track “Early” puts it, “We’re not just some colors on a wristband.” A secretive quality pervades uneasy verses and strange R&B hooks, almost as if reverse play would reveal an encoded meeting place and time to start the revolution. Woven in are speech snippets relating Black Panther activism and Assata Shakur to socialist Cuba, and “niggaz” are replaced by “comrades.”
Confidential’s musical expertise only adds to its secrecy, combining raw, blown-out speaker beats with easier tracks like lovey-dovey “‘Til We Get There,” using a soft shell to disguise controversial undertones (the video, featuring Somalian rapper K’Naan, is ironically getting some airtime). Cameos from Q-Tip, Ghostface, and Styles P (among others) are well embedded in creepy messages and even a Western jig to throw the hounds off the trail. “You’re too smart, you’re too smart / Just look at all the drama that you start / Don’t you know the whole world smell it if you fart?” M1 whispers on “Too Smart” — out spills the pungent smell of conspiracy, confusing us with a knowing smirk. It’s as refreshing as new rain after a dry spell, no blings or Bushes in sight.
