by throwing around ideas about morphology and hermeneutics. Still, you can’t help but wonder if Fiasco cares to engage with its dramatic weight this is someone, remember, who praised Ab-Soul’s barely listenable Do What Thou Wilt. This is emotionally rich fictitious content. This is especially true of Drogas Wave, a wildly unrealized 24-track, 98-minute concept album with a surreal premise: What if African slaves thrown overboard during their transatlantic passage had managed to survive underwater and dedicate their existence to sinking other slave ships? This is only a slight left turn for someone who made a song about an undead drug dealer, but still. He has become overly ambitious with his smaller audience, too, so that listening to Fiasco can now feel like encountering someone’s unedited passion project. Though he’s largely remained consistent since that disaster, arguably peaking with 2015’s Tetsuo & Youth, Fiasco has fallen from Late Registration feature to amicable niche. That year’s Lasers, the ugly result of his hostage situation with Atlantic, effectively ruined his chances of meeting his potential as a mainstream star and bar-for-bar traditionalist, the intersection Kendrick Lamar and J. But Fiasco’s surface-level sophistication doesn’t mask just how low-stakes his career has been since 2011.
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