Jay-Z called him a “genius writer” and Kanye West labeled him “the next me.” His debut album, Food and Liquor was widely recognized as an inspired step forward in hip-hop. Lupe Fiasco certainly doesn’t need more praise, but he’s bound to get it for his latest effort, The Cool. Lupe takes a new direction and spearheads a hip-hop revolution even more groundbreaking than his premier.

The term “dark” has been thrown around a lot regarding The Cool. Lupe said it himself, telling XXL Magazine that he recorded the album during “a very dark period.” In that time, Lupe suffered the deaths of his father and close friend, budding rapper Stack Bundles. His longtime mentor and business partner Charles “Chilly” Patton got 44 years for dealing heroin.

Labeling the album “dark” doesn’t really express the album’s essence. There’s hope in there too and Lupe’s dazzling ability to express the struggle between hope and darkness takes the The Cool, a concept album, beyond rap. The ability to communicate specific, powerful feelings with each track and to do it with signature smoothness is a gift he shares with fellow Chicago rap icons Kanye West and Common.

Like Kanye and Common, Lupe embraces Chicago as part of his identity. Lupe doesn’t actually appear until “Go Go Gadget Flow,” the third track. The second, “Free Chilly,” is minute-long dedication to Patton sung by Sarah Green and Gemstones. He devotes his first line to Chicago: “I’m from the city in the Midwest best city in the whole wide wide world.”

Snoop Dogg makes the only prominent guest appearance on the disc. His typical G-funky swing sounds out of place on “Hi-Definition,” which is disappointing after Snoop’s appearance on Devin the Dude’s last album, Waiting to Inhale.

Lupe’s pop culture references make the album into a time capsule, something you could listen to when you’re 45 and laugh when you hear “spit hot fire like Dylon on Chappelle’s skit.” When he raps about the iPhone and MySpace, Lupe defines our times. He’s talking about our The Cool-oriented culture: gadget envy and being ghettto fabulous. But The Cool and the stories it tells are just as much a celebration of love and hope in humanity as it is a lament.

That unifying theme truly separates this album from Food and Liquor. The concept is the album’s heartbeat and although it’s more apparent on some tracks than others, it’s always there, lurking just beneath the surface. The Cool doesn’t just diverge from Food and Liquor, it completely departs from everything being done in hip-hop right now. The album tells the stories that aren’t being told. Now that’s cool.