French Rap is Bending Genres and Crossing Continents in Silence

 
French rap founding fathers Suprême NTM performing. Photo courtesy of Suprême NTM Facebook.

French rap founding fathers Suprême NTM performing. Photo courtesy of Suprême NTM Facebook.


It is in the garden of a home nestled in the heart of Paris’ 5th arrondissement, sitting beneath an overcast sky, where I meet a French rapper for the first time. 

He goes by BL, a moniker that represents Big Leflowski (an homage to his favorite movie, “The Big Lebowski''). At 20 years old, he is a graphic artist in his own right, and one-twelfth of the up-and-coming, Parisian-based collective, 135. He also happens to be welcoming home his childhood best friend, Aurelio Cohen, who will now double as a producer for the group. While Cohen serves as an excellent interpreter during our conversation, the enthusiasm and appreciation that BL holds for his own corner of the rap world are palpable – they need no translation. 

French rap (rap français), while influenced heavily by the roots of American hip-hop, is a separate cultural entity. One of, if not the fastest-growing and largest source for new rap music is France, a country rarely acknowledged for its contributions to the industry. In 2019, Paris was credited as the international capital of hip-hop, topping the sales of Atlanta with local rappers like PNL and Nekfeu who amassed over 2.6 million units (discounting millions of more streams). There are a few reasons why French rap is seemingly shadowbanned outside of its own borders, but primarily its growth is hindered by the general unwillingness of Americans to accept and celebrate foreign music on mainstream radio. 

“It is simpler when you’re in the States than when you’re here,” BL explains.

However, he understands the difficulties of bridging the gap between language and cultural differences, sonically. His introduction to rap came from his older sisters who shared tapes from popular French rappers such as IAM and Sniper when he was fifteen years old. When asked if he derived inspiration from traditional American rappers like Tupac or Kanye West, he highlighted that American slang and missed references dissuaded him from understanding the lyrics. As a songwriter, words are integral to his enjoyment of music. 

In the United Kingdom, this ideology is flipped on its head. BL recalls the commercial success French rap has received across the pond, with artists such as Aya Nakamura who genre bends pop with rap. A Lil Pump feature on her song, “Pookie,” propelled her to the international charts. According to Cohen, almost all of the music coming out of France calls upon hip-hop or rap. 

“We have a lot of composers writing more poetic, slow songs on the guitar or the piano, but it is certainly not comparable to the titan that is rap in France right now,” he shares. 

And he’s right. Rap took over 13 out of the 19 number one singles on French charts in 2019, as well as Parisian rappers ranking on the charts for 29 weeks. Totals for sales were calculated by SNEP, the French equivalent of Billboard, without the inclusion of streaming services or YouTube video views. It is important to note that the Recording Industry Association of America tallies one album unit for every 1.5k streams given to an artist. When it is revealed that French rappers outsold American rappers before the inclusion of their streaming platform listens, which accounts for 51% of the French music market, the magnitude of the genre shines. 


BL has witnessed the growth and shift in French rap over the years, since it came to prominence throughout his lifetime. Inspired by the likes of sociopolitical lyrical commentary abroad, rappers in France such as Suprême NTM and BL’s childhood favorite, IAM, sought to confront police brutality and poverty head-on. In 1995, Suprême NTM were arrested and charged for performing their song “Police” and subsequently sentenced to 6 months of jail time for the offense, of which they served 2. The suburbs of France, particularly the suburbs of Paris, are home to immigrants from North African countries who are commonly placed into socially and financially segregated housing. Rap gave these communities a voice and national representation, yet it made the artists direct targets for backlash.

It doesn’t take long to find the racial divides prominent in French culture; a quick Google search of the Le Pen family reveals their direct perpetuation of anti-Muslim sentiment and even Marine Le Pen’s personal vendetta against French Muslim rappers PNL and MHD. The industry itself rejects the prominence of rap, unabashed about the racist subtext in doing so. SNEP has gone out of its way to discredit rap, while the French music award show, Victoires de la Musique, did not nominate a single Black or Arab French rapper for best album, artist, or song in 2019. 

Despite the complex and rocky history of the genre, it has continued to evolve. BL describes two schools of modern-day French rap: that which discusses the themes of suburban life and politics, and an emerging subset that highlights interpersonal issues with family or mental health. While French rap has always been diverse, it has also always been accessible to a wide range of listeners. Artists tend to only write and convey their lived experiences, which aids in the avoidance of harmful whitewashing that the genre faces in places like America (see: Iggy Azalea, etc.). Regardless, the privilege of being a white French rapper is obvious when recent political feuds within the genre specifically targeted artists Youssoupha and Médine rather than Nekfeu or Orelsan – the racial bias cannot be overlooked.

For BL, also a member of the French rap group Amer, his work falls into the latter of the two schools and sheds a light on his most intimate struggles. For example, the verses he is most proud of can be found on “Chambre Plein Sud,” an incredibly personal track written about his relationship with his father. 

He describes 135 as a “collective” of twelve members – they have designated roles that include producer, clothing designer, and graffiti artist (a popular pastime in Paris). As a group, their collaboration extends all the way into their songwriting, which is often done together with room to express themselves on separate verses. “135 Vision” highlights the talents of each artist, and is another standout track for BL. 

When asked about his prospects producing solo work for BL, Cohen had nothing but praise for the rapper. 

“He knows what he wants, he writes incredibly well, his delivery is flawless and he is a wonderful, caring friend,” he shared. “He is all that I need and look for in a collaborator.” 

The legitimization of French rap overseas and domestically is still on the horizon. After decades of lawsuits, far-right attacks, and rejection from industries abroad, the genre has not only maintained its listeners but thrived. It is an integral outlet, offering release and a chance to be heard. 

As for BL and 135, connectivity to their audience is also a hope for the future. The recent implementation of the French Health Pass has allowed the reopening of venues throughout the country, and dreams of DIY shows have never seemed more tangible.
I watch as he looks up into the clouds and describes his excitement over a potential performance in the north of France. I may not be able to understand every word, but I nod in agreement. Some things are universal. 


Follow BL:

Artist Instagram: @nectardegoyave

135 Instagram: @135.vision

Amer Instagram: @amer_officiel

 
Joy Freeman