Genesis Owusu lives in Australia, I live in England, yet we’ve both bore witness to the toppling effect of present day American politics. The Trump era has enforced a robust ‘our side versus their side’, ‘no room for discussion or mediation’ political ethos, allowing ensuing ills – which were already there; racism, homophobia, classism, transphobia, misogyny etc. – to prosper more-so.
He has, very likely, caught the brunt of these new conventions far worse than I have, not only because he’s a black guy and I’m a white guy, but because he has travelled, and he has experienced this societal change in several forms in countries one would assume have their own unique problems without having to borrow from America.
As much as I prefer to view folks on Twitter as not being representative of the real world, there is almighty crossover now. There is one song on Redstar Wu & the Worldwide Scourge – Owusu’s third album – that seems to shake the effect of the internet; the watery, contemplative 4Life, which honours friendship, which tells us the phrase ‘you need to get out more’ still applies as long as you’re getting out more with the right people, in the right circumstances.
Otherwise, the album is drunk off of the fumes of modern political stink. Both sides of the inebriety are captured; the fear and the party; the destroyed and the resistance. Redstar Wu is Owusu’s best and most important album; his previous two were based upon mental health and personal struggle – the racial scapegoating addressed on Smiling with No Teeth and the etymological, anti-capitalism concept of Struggler still observing political threats – but Owusu now finds himself helpful on a broader level. He seems to note his own power to help; finale One4All is shaped on a pretty basic decision to end things on a positive note, of alrightness.
It’s the sort of diligence bound to live in tandem with such human, such informal music. Owusu’s lyricism is most human, most informal, and consistent. You wouldn’t say the album is full of amazing, bold poetry, but Owusu’s simplistic barbs are appropriate for the punk rap settings they habituate. It’s that IDLES style of ‘just tell it like it is’, to make sure to be heard – quite fittingly, Joy As an Act of Resistance is referenced on Runnin Outta Time.
The Worldwide Scourge is the exception to this form of dialogue, as Owusu shoots for both dressed-up lyricism – “vacant smiles inside the eyes of the actors appearing normal / but one huff from the wolf will turn the house into Chernobyl” – and upfront beatdowns – “the feds have the easiest job that I can hither / crack your knuckles, boot up Twitter, disperse a word ever bitter / say Africans ain’t black, trans people are the sinners / Palestine hates gays, then kick your feet up while we bicker”. Tearful, powerful, and launched over a dejected beat that sounds like a nod to Yeezus; the former genius of a man corrupted by his own destructiveness.
But highlighting specific lyrics, as if my mind has been blown, would otherwise be futile, and I’d rather just discuss the kinds of shots he takes, such as the Andrew Tate-worship takedown that occupies Death Cult Zombie’s second verse. The entire track is a beautiful takedown of the table theorists of the world, sung in a Kele Okereke style fitting for the 2000s post-punk revivalism – with a synth buzzing around its butt – that loads the song. With its poppier framing, it feels like a much-needed, good drink.
What’s worse, Andrew Tate worship or Elon Musk worship? Their respective measures of harm aren’t really comparable, but there seems to be an overriding thought, at the moment, that we should all care about Elon Musk, to the point where he’s constantly having his say on UK politics and certain members of the public pat him on the back for it, applauding videos of Musk at marches in London, waiting for him to weigh in on the Henry Nowak case for a sense of political approval. It’s an obsession as weird as the man himself, who Owusu calls out on Pirate Radio alongside the normalisation of modern Naziism, the congratulatory cultism of, let’s face it, stupid people, and the mega rich, painting a synth-laden dystopia whilst operating as a punk rocker and punk rapper.
Wherever you go, there are people conditioning themselves to have the back of their favourite politician no matter what said politician is outed as. It makes human beings, at large, look incredibly dumb. Stampede states, quite well, that the rich are forcing a greater division – in which the person, the politician, warrants protecting at all costs – than the people are. Owusu’s message is accompanied by radiant, throbbing synth punk, as intergalactic as it is biting.
Owusu operates best under the tutelage of synth punk. He asks what he can do as a mere man, on Life Keeps Going, over quick-footed technoid, like Sleaford Mods with a little more propulsion and drive. His primed punk vocals are followed into Most Normal American Voter, alongside a mechanical, hanging spark guitar lead.
But this is Genesis Owusu we’re talking about; he never settles! He’s as much a punk as he is a rapper, and he’s as much a rapper as he is a weaver of funk, ass-bumping on Hellstar, one-part thrust, one-part gloomy robotic march. Its search for positivity where none can be found is echoed on Falling Both Ways; its penchant for funk and neo-soul is echoed on Blessed Are the Meek’s D’Angelo-isms.
The nostalgic ‘90s dance instrumental of Big Dog is an anomaly; its black retribution against modern hypocrites, and title with the word ‘dog’ in it, are not anomalies, but par for the Owusu course.
The excellence of Redstar Wu & the Worldwide Scourge would be as simple as political vitality + diverse set of sounds as focussed as it is raging. But I don’t think the magnitude of this album should be understated.
By biting the head of those who ought to be bitten, Genesis Owusu keeps the lifeblood of hip hop alive on his third album. A sceptic’s fears, shaped by their travels, the album invaluably surveys the spread of what was once an isolated political forest fire. Owusu’s music, much like these problems, these travesties, is forever uncontained.
Best tracks – The Worldwide Scourge – Most Normal American Voter – Death Cult Zombie.
Rating – 9 out of 10
