Even with his mature outlook, Sage Francis isn’t just some egghead rapper.
DETAILS
Sage Francis has come to terms with letting the forces of space and time ravage his body. That’s not to say he’s the indie rapper with a death wish or anything so remotely nihilistic, but he no longer fights the cellular decay that occurs in him every day. He tried being a vegetarian, but now everything he eats either comes out of a microwave or a paper bag overrun by logos of one fast food chain or another. Every gig reveals younger and rowdier fans, not that it bothers him, but he’s not always sure what they’re connecting with in his music. And four albums into his career, he no longer feels the need to live up to the ideals of hip hop, whatever they are at a time when Ice Cube’s face is more likely to appear in the family section of Blockbuster than in a record store, and Snoop Dogg really wants you to buy a Chrysler.
“I used to be upset when people would insinuate that what I did wasn’t hip hop,” says Francis. “I don’t care enough about the concept of hip hop to hold it like it’s the Holy Grail. Hip hop is as old as rock ’n’ roll was when I was a kid, and back then, rock ’n’ roll seemed like old people music. That’s what hip hop is turning into. I don’t know why other rappers don’t want to be mature, walking around like they’re in junior high with grimaces on their faces. I’d rather play country music than hang out with those shitbags. I’m a grown-ass man, and I like being a grown-ass man.”
Unlike Francis’s previous albums, Li(f)e makes no mention of hip hop or its history. Francis was always an artist who walked the line between hip hop and spoken-word poetry, but these days he’s no longer concerned with the hip hop side of the equation. Instead of working with his usual producers and within genre conventions, he backs his poetry up with a post-roots rock band made up of members of Califone, Calexico and Death Cab for Cutie. It makes for a sombre and intimate album concerned with grown-up issues, like fatherhood and religion. In fact, it’s probably one of the few stridently anti-religious hip hop albums you’ll hear… well, ever. But despite Francis comparing religion to a terminal illness society grudgingly lives with on the track “Worry Not,” he’s wary of being labelled an atheist.
“It might be my upbringing in a religious surrounding, but I really don’t like that word,” he says. “I guess it’s definitely more accurate than calling me a Christian.”
Right now, Francis finds himself caught in the purgatory that comes between tour stops, when looking out the window of the bus reveals no clue to even which country he’s in. He says this will most likely be his last tour for a long time, but when pressed for the exact reasons for the touring hiatus, he only answers with a vague “new responsibilities” and “going down a different path.” It’s the kind of answer a grown-ass man gives, one that avoids the absolutes and claims to ambition that mark the response of a younger man. And he’s OK with that — there’s nothing to live up to anymore except himself.
“When my first album came out, it was really the first real vulnerable and self-deprecating hip hop album with a mature approach to it,” says Francis. “Since then, a guard went up between my inner core and what comes out of me. But this time, it felt like I had to let the guard back down. The album’s not more honest, but it is more personal. I feel like I’ve shed a lot of frustration.”
Post the first comment: (Login or Register)