#streamcaribbean "Où les Garçons Grandissent" by Jewel Usain

I know it may seem surprising that I'm including a French rap album to finish my music recap of 2023, but I think it's important to remember that our origins don't lock us into a specific music genre. We also have artists to listen to in the Guadeloupe and Martinique’s diaspora, and life experiences to learn from. There's room for everyone, and music is first and foremost about vibrations. Just like Nerka’s “On Son Baw” is an ode to vulnerable masculinity or Mano D’iShango’s GWADLÒV (PÉYI AN MWEN) is an ode to Guadeloupean identity, I see “Où Les Garçons Grandissent” [Where Boys Grow Up] as the kind of masterpiece that can open discussions about who we are to help us find our own definition of happiness.

I discovered Jewel Usain live in early 2018. He was the opening act for another singer. I was next to a trio of young men who were FANS. They were announcing tracks before Jewel even started singing, they were doing karaoke even on a song that had just been released and they left at the end of the set because they'd only come to see his performance. I'm telling you this because it's 7 years later and I can still remember the look of pure joy on those young men’s faces... 

I had to understand what had triggered such enthusiasm, so I started looking for information about Jewel. More than the instrumentals or his music videos, it was his writing that appealed to me. His metaphors played with film and pop culture references to describe a raw reality. While I had no problem applauding the punchlines, the songs he was releasing at the time didn't speak to me... Looking back, I think he was in an experimental or transitional phase in his artistic development, hence my impression of a gap between the substance of his songs and their structure. I wasn't the target audience.

Years go by. Here we are in 2023, and it's a pleasant surprise to find him featuring on Rachelle Allison's "RAF"... A duo where the man’s and the woman’s points of view clash to sing sexuality and intimacy with maturity? I'm the target audience, so I'm hooked, but I notice that his flow sounds different. While remaining in the trend of what's been working for a few years, his voice now has this grain that I call the vulnerability crack.  It's that tension in the voice of an artist who has overcome hardship and isn't afraid to show it. For me, it's the ultimate level of authenticity... I don't know his exact age, but I wasn’t expecting someone this young to already sound this way. 

So I was eager to hear about a new project. And instead of a single, it's his first studio album, "Où les garçons grandissent" ... Poetic cover. A title that evokes the theme of time passing... And an album that lasts more than 45 minutes, just like in the 90’s. I was in good spirits.

At first, I was intrigued. I was expecting some egotrip or some a diary about a period in his life, a look at Black masculinities... But the tracklist was so well constructed that I found myself immersed in a story. Musically, I don't claim to have an informed opinion. For me, there's a hybrid vibe between jazz and soul that recalls the East Coast rap of the 90s - early 2000s (like Bad Boys Records or G-Unit productions) but the arrangements are contemporary like what's trending right now. You can argue with me there. In any case, the tracks flow so smoothly that I listened to the album several times without skipping a song or hitting the repeat button. He could release an instrumental version and I’d listen to it without any problem. 

In terms of writing, the theme of the underdog who wants to reach the top serves as a common thread. Not only has Jewel's style not changed, he's managed to develop it in a sophisticated way. His storytelling multiplies tenfold his art of metaphor on the disillusions and hopes of a young man in search of his Eleanore. This reference to "Gone 60 seconds" serves as a gateway to a dreamlike universe where the "I" is on a quest to find out who he is, who he wants to become, and then to question who he has been. The punchlines slide between the lyrics, flirting with pauses and silences.

My favorite track is "Incapable", which is the focal point of Part 2 of the album. In Jewel's words, "chill instrumentation but implacable truth". My love of brass instruments is no secret, but Béeseau's trumpet solos to accompany lyrics on the family theme? That's exactly what speaks to me, and it's interesting to hear an unadorned vision that shows the doubts, the tears, the desire to love and be loved, the fear of making mistakes, the need to connect with others... In these times when I'm tired of hearing about masculine/feminine energy, about a pseudo-war of the sexes, it's reassuring to hear a man talk simply about the responsibilities of adulthood. Spoiler alert: adult life really begins when we realize that "the monster in the closet" is what we deeply want, but which terrorizes us. Some of us dodge it, others confront it, but the character in "Where the Boys Grow Up" is still at the stage of realizing that his life may not be what he wants it to be. After the illusions of the twenty-something chasing money, after the doubts of the thirty-something questioning his vision of happiness... It's up to the listener to imagine the end.

 It's a story that's both personal and universal. The sound aesthetics of the album are echoed in the aesthetics of Kidhao's videos. This artistic complicity gives coherence to their collaboration, which documents Jewel Usain's evolution over the last ten years. 

I remember the little guy in his beanie, staring at the ground, cracking jokes between songs to release the stress when on stage. You could feel his eagerness to do well while looking for the right direction. Now I see a man crowned with an afro, a dignified look on his face, thriving in his discomfort zone. I hear a storyteller whose oratory talent seems limitless. I'll have to wait to see him on a Parisian stage, because the audience makes sure his shows stay sold out... But I'm always grateful to find cultural works that touch my sensibility, and make me think about who I am and what I want. If you'd told me it would happen with a French rap album? That's the magic of music...