MUSIC

 

SPAIN'S GREAT RAPPER IS NOT YOUR ORDINARY RAPPER

or the brilliance of Kase O's El Circulo

By Maximilian Ruiz

Not your average rapper

Rap music is often underestimated as an art form, and rarely considered a literary one. While not every urban lyricist is a poetic genius, there are a wide array of rap artists known to use language at a masterful level. I would argue that they can go toe to toe with world-renowned poets. The philosophical depth of the questions they tackle, as well as their ability to translate those ideas into complex rhythmic and literary forms is spectacular. Though we have a tendency to associate rap with American artists and to some extent the English, the first great rapper I heard was Spanish. And without a doubt, the best way to describe Kase O’s music is literature at its most complex and potent.

Spreading art, because that’s my gift

I take you from the quotidian to another reality

To the state of uncertain form

The territory I inhabit when everyone sleeps.

I had the chance to see Kase O in Barcelona three years ago. The memory of that night still feels charged with a rare kind of energy. He didn’t walk on stage dressed in gold chains, or with a huge entourage, or with his signature sneakers glowing as many rappers do. Instead, he appeared barefoot, beer in hand, and carried himself with a humility rare in the rap world. Flirting with a hippy vibe, he exuded freedom, a rejection of the rigid image of what a rapper is “supposed” to be, or even a pop star. Without any exaggeration, he felt more like a messenger channeling words from the Gods than a performer seeking applause from an audience.

He laughs

Kase O’s best album is El Circulo. As the name “the circle” suggests, the album is a quite successful attempt at an all-encompassing portrayal of human nature. The third track “Yemen” explores the duality of the ego. His use of the ode form is reminiscent of Nikki Giovanni’s “Ego Tripping.” Both Giovanni and Kase O represent the artist as confident and assertive, but also warn that those qualities may become self-serving. Pure ego, along with uncontrolled pride, might be necessary for finding artistic and personal purpose, but there is an obvious danger:

Soy poeta y viajo más que tus astronautas

Soy poeta y yo jamás respeté tus pautas

¿Cuántas noches me pasé yo delante del papel

Diseñando llaves para tus jaulas?

I’m a poet and I travel more than your astronauts

I’m a poet and I never followed your rules

How many nights did I spend before the page

Designing keys for your cages?

Kase O’s use of anaphora catches the dizzying sense of the life of the poet. Even though he criticizes his reckless ambition, he finds it necessary to take the true path and serve others. In this case his rebellious nature and bravado are the reason he can design “keys for your cages.” He might have an oversized notion of who he is, but the fact that he thinks that he should be of value to others is unique in the world of rap as well as poetry. Even when he slips into a kind of confessional mode, he never loses his focus on other people.

The Cover isn't much on covering up

The fifth track, “Guapo Tarde,” tackles his own teenage insecurities: self-esteem; acne; substance abuse, along with his rather rebellious and morbid sexuality.

Juegan a ver quién es el más guapo

Yo tenía granos, nunca pude entrar al trapo

They play to see who’s the prettiest

I had pimples, I could never get in on it.

The confessional nature of these lines showcases his struggles to fit into a highly superficial society. Similar to Sylvia Plath, he portrays isolation and alienation with a sharp wit. In this case, the demeaning standards of beauty and how they can cause young people to hate themselves.

Hábitos anárquicos, pálpitos del veranito ya en el hocico

Mojitos, loquitos coñitos, solito sorbitos de vida y solcito

Anarchic habits, hunches of summertime already on my snout,

mojitos, crazy little pussies, alone, little sips of life and sunshine.

The influence of Charles Bukowski in Kase O’s writing is obvious. Bukowski’s raw, blunt and often cynical portrayal of lower-class existence is a weapon against all the inequalities that can lead to a life that lacks purpose. Kase O’s use of Bukowski’s style, a kind of dirty realism, allows him to portray excessive drinking and sexual glorification with great delicacy. One might say he catches the beautiful despair of the Ibernian mind, or any troubled mind for that matter.

Charles Bukowski drinking? Strange.

As direct as “Guapo Tarde” is, the bluntest social commentary in El Circulo comes from “Esto No Para.” A social realist diatribe that criticizes war, rigged justice systems, authoritarians, political corruption, classism, and the silencing of the rabble, or, better put, anyone who might want some sort of justice. “This doesn’t stop” is repeated 14 times throughout the song, implying that all these issues have been going on for way too long, and are seemingly going to continue for a very long time if people don’t come together to put an end to evil and injustice.

La llaman libertad,otros,democracia

Vestida de justicia, oculta su falacia

Tiene convencida a toda la población

Mensajera de la paz a la que llaman religión

Pero ella quiere guerra, celebra cada muerte

Matan en su nombre y tiene nombres diferentes

Siempre disfrazada, porque esinteligente

Tiene todos los medios, ella elige al presidente

They call her freedom, others call her democracy

Dressed as justice, she hides her deceit

She’s convinced the entire population

A messenger of peace they call religion

But she wants war, she celebrates every death

They kill in her name, and she goes by many names

Always in disguise, because she’s intelligent

She owns all the media, she chooses the president

Kase O directly criticizes false notions of democracy and a twisted justice system. He exposes the importance of socioeconomic class in a world engineered to favor the rich, to silence and distract the poor, to feed chaos and conflict, and to allow, of all things, those in power to benefit from war. Like Audre Lorde’s famous line, “your silence will not protect you,” Kase O suggests that the ability to stop problems lies in each individual speaking up. He stresses that we need to find the necessary strength to act as a collective. “Esto no para” is both a statement against injustice and a motivational speech for revolution.

The hit single

Not all his lyrics in El Circulo are societal critiques or philosophical meditations; like any great poet Kase O is a romantic at heart. “Amor sin cláusulas” reminds me of Pablo Neruda in the way he captures the splendor and beauty of other people.

Tu alegría gratuita, y tu sonrisa por defecto

Ni que el mundo fuera perfecto

En serio, eres para mí un misterio

Te quiere todo el barrio, te quiero todo el rato

Mujer trabajadora, fuerte y luchadora

Mujer leal, por eso tuhombre te adora

Yo te he visto levantar un imperio, sola

Y vi tu empeño para evolucionar como persona

Your effortless joy, and your default smile

As if the world were perfect

Seriously, you’re a mystery to me

The whole neighborhood loves you, I love you all the time

Working woman, strong and fierce

Loyal woman, that’s why your man adores you

I’ve seen you build an empire, all on your own

And I’ve seen your determination to evolve as a person

These lines are a tender tribute to a woman whose kindness charmed him. Kase O celebrates her effortless joy as acts of resilience in an imperfect world. The repetition of phrases like “mujer trabajadora, fuerte y luchadora” elevates her by the sheer force of language, which feels conversational, every day, and yet transcendent. How else can you respond to the line, “the whole neighborhood loves you,” but with a type of communal joy that’s somewhere between the plain and the ecstatic. Ultimately, it honors a woman who is simply there, a true representative of inner strength and grace. In contrast to the aforementioned “Guapo Tarde,” which tackles the gross sexual culture of late 90s and early 2000s Spain, Kase O shows us a different way.

“Mitad y Mitad” is one of the best songs of El Circulo and is a strange combination of “Guapo Tarde” and “Amor sin cláusulas.” It is also a romantic song, but with a rough, tough, erotic edge:

No hidráulico, sí mágico, sí rítmico, íntimo, idílico

No rígido, ni insípido, sí físico, sí animal y acrobático

Not hydraulic, yes magical, yes rhythmic, intimate, idyllic

Not rigid, nor tasteless, yes physical, yes animal and acrobatic

His use of the assonance of the “e” sound (in Spanish “i”) helps carry this sense of intimacy, so that you feel that it’s not just what he is saying, but also how he is saying it.

Éxtasis, viaje astral, segundos de muerte

Un dios lejano se acerca y sonríe al verte

Dos cuerpos caen rendidos sobre el colchón

Y en aquel silencio todavía en trance

Ecstasy, astral journey, seconds of death

A distant god draws near and smiles upon seeing you

Two bodies fall, surrendered, onto the mattress

And in that silence, still in a trance

For Kase O sex is not just a physical experience, but also a metaphysical one. Like the 17th century poet John Donne, he shows us the tension between the mundane and the spiritual, that in every act there is destruction and rebirth. Both Donne and Kase O use complex metaphors to relate the beauty and humor of this never-ending process.

John Donne, Kase O's equal

If romance leads to ecstasy in “Mitad y Mitad,” in “Triste,” Kase O gives melancholia a turn. In just a few lines of a single verse, he addresses chaos, fear, doubt and growing old. It’s confessional poetry as social critique:

No veo que crezca, creo que envejezco

I don't see myself growing, I believe I’m aging

First, the way the line rolls off the tongue is masterful. The internal rhyme “veo que” and “creo que,” as well as the assonant rhyme between “crezca” and “envejezco” comes at you like a flash of insight. As with most of his works, they cannot be fully understood in English translation. The alliteration of the rough c, z sounds in Castilian creates a cacophony that Kase O then balances off with the assonance of the e, o sounds. The play on words creates a paradox in the nature of time. Growing and aging are the same, but we see those states in radically different and paradoxical ways.

The Man

The beginning six verses attribute the physical effects of sadness to the collapse of a soul lacking purpose and filled with confusion. Kase O subtly hints that he would welcome any catharsis that would force him to face his repressed thoughts. Sadness isn’t the problem, it’s his inability to face his sadness that’s destroying him.

Me tuerzo, meinclino,me caigo, me hundo

Se derrumba mi mundo sin rumbo

No es fijo ese dónde al que yo me dirijo

Y a cada segundo confundo

Llegan lágrimas aquí de lo profundo

Tengo dudas que duelen si pregunto

I twist, I bend, I fall, I sink

My world collapses, lost and adrift

The place I’m heading isn’t fixed

And every second I get confused

Tears rise up from deep within

I have doubts that hurt when I ask

In the end he attributes his sadness to his ego and to selfishness; that he and we use our fears as an excuse to not perform our duties to the ones we love and society at large. As he repeats eight times: “Triste, sólo tengo ojos para mí,” or in English, “Sad, I only have eyes for me.” This is a sad, radical claim, but definitely one that needs to be considered in order to regain the agency required to overcome depression.

Unveiling the layers of meaning in the album, we can experience the power and scope of Kase O’s literary abilities. His philosophical and social reflections narrow the distance between rap and poetry. He speaks to not just the anxieties and hopes of the present moment, but also historical issues, such as the many contradictions of freedom in post-civil-war, post-Franco Spain. In his imagery and soul-stirring performances, one can sense echoes of Lorca’s duende, which is the experience of an earthly, dark and irrational creative spirit. You couldn't find a more apt description of Kase O.

©The CCA Arts Review and Maximilian Ruiz