Kery James, the melancholic voice of French rap, has been going through an especially intense period over the past few months. The artist is bringing his social trilogy to a close with the release of the film Banlieusards 3, the final chapter of a family saga that, in its own way, echoes the Brothers Karamazov of the French housing projects. At the same time, the rapper unveils a new single in collaboration with Wally B. Seck, titled “La France”, taken from his latest project R.A.P.
“Resistance, Love and Poetry” — the meaning behind the acronym — paradoxically stands as one of the least strictly “rap” albums in his discography. Of course, the political message remains intact and rap still drives most of the record. Yet the “Black Poet” significantly broadens his musical palette here: he ventures into kompa territory with “Jacmel”, flirts with French chanson alongside Camille Lellouche, and opens his sound to Afro influences, as he already does on “La France”, recorded with Senegalese singer Wally B. Seck.
Three months ago, the rapper from Vitry-sur-Seine appeared as a guest on Mehdi Maïzi’s show. During the interview, he suggested that R.A.P might well be his final studio project. A statement that echoes earlier announcements of retirement, notably in “Letter to My Audience”. As he himself admits, he knows himself too well to be completely definitive about it. One thing is certain, however: Kery James listens to far less rap than he used to, and his view of the current scene has grown noticeably harsher. The artist who already claimed in 2018 that “rap has changed” now openly takes aim at some of his peers with biting punchlines such as: “They’re not rappers anymore, they’re singers.”
In that context, the track “La France”, recorded with Wally B. Seck, resonates as an echo of another significant collaboration: the one he released with Salif Keita on “Et si c’était à refaire”. That album marked a major turning point in his artistic trajectory, symbolizing his transition toward conscious rap and the emergence of the politically engaged “Black Poet.”
Kery James and Wally B. Seck speak about “La France”
The instrumental composition of the track was crafted by Freaky Joe and Sokhan. Over the years, Freaky Joe has established himself as one of the most influential producers in the French scene. He notably worked with SCH and Dinos on the track “Marginaux”, and with SDM on “92i”. Sokhan, for his part, had already crossed paths with Kery James by contributing to the composition of “Le Poète Noir.”
Musically, the track is deeply shaped by Afro-influenced sounds. This direction is nothing new in the artistic journey of Kery James. Since embracing conscious rap — and even more so since “Et si c’était à refaire” — African musical textures have consistently infused the artist’s sonic landscape.
In this track, the rapper — often critical of his adopted country — appears to echo the ideas of Malcolm X and other Afro-diasporic thinkers who advocate the notion of a “return to the African continent.” Through his lyrics, he questions the illusion of the French dream and lucidly evokes the failure of certain migration stories, as well as the gradual erosion of the imagined Eldorado that France once represented.
Cross the sea at the risk of your life
Only to die in a desert of indifference in Paris
France sold us a dream
But we never get to touch it
Or again:
France denies the values it proudly displays
In the darkness of a village, you dream of somewhere else
But electricity cannot light up hearts
Wally B. Seck delivers the second verse in Wolof, bringing a transnational dimension to the track that reinforces its message. The result feels like a genuine political broadside. At a time when patriotism intensifies, nationalist rhetoric fuels public debate, and the blue-white-red flag becomes an ideological symbol, Kery James reminds listeners — with the gravity that defines his voice — of the often disillusioned reality behind many migration stories.
