Musical Digest: Russian Rapper Pharaoh

I have always had a deep rooted curiosity for foreign music; specifically digesting the differences and implications of rap music in comparison to the rap cultures I’ve grown up with: Polish and American. The biggest misconception of this genre is that it’s violent and vulgar, when in fact it is very vulnerable.

When I listen to Polish rap, for instance, most of the lyrics are very raw and personal predominantly revolving around oppression, poverty, lack of acceptance, the desire to break free from a small town without a trickle of promise of a better tomorrow, relationships, drug experimentation, and arrests. These themes are not as congruent with those of American rap nowadays.

American rap is very cut-and-dry: women, sex, power, money. In the States, rappers usually rap about their journey about acquiring wealth and prosperity which they may or may not realize is a result of their susceptibility towards being manipulated by record labels. Everyone knows that whenever men in corporate suits are involved, flow charts are drawn up, and the conversations of sales begin, all creativity goes out the window.

It’s the equivalent of doodling a sketch for a mural. You’ve got your animations, your colors, your obscure shapes and symbols that generate a much deeper meaning behind it. Then, an architect walks in and tells you it won’t fit, people won’t like it, it’s too distracting and instead presents you with a boring alternative. Your vision and your craft doesn’t matter because this is “what the people want anyway, right?”

[That’s not to say I don’t indulge in American rap ever. I’m a huge fan of Childish Gambino, Mac Miller, blackbear, Jeremih, Vic Mensa, and god almighty Eminem. I have huge respect for any former and forthcoming emerging rap artists, but money talks... in more ways than one].

Recently, I started listening to Russian rap. Having grown up in an Eastern-European neighborhood in Chicago, it wasn’t my first venture to listen to something not in my own language. To discover something that blurs the line between emo and rap is like a breath of fresh air; that’s where Russian rapper Pharaoh comes into the picture.

The rise of Russian rap started after the fall of SSR, where most millennials born at the peak of the 1990s were its prime influence. Rappers from cities like Moscow and St Petersburg aren’t very much bothered by the fact that they are not signed under a record label. In fact, they do everything they can to stray away from it and make most of their income by self-promotion through social media and local shows.

They do not rely on the advertising and marketing of Russian music channels because YouTube is where they reign supreme. Most importantly, they are free to express themselves in any form without restrictions.

This is their way of retaliating against the oppressions of the mainstream.

Pharaoh belongs to the third Russian generation of rappers and felt like the music that was being made at the time when he turned 18 didn’t sit with him all that well. Hence, why the DIY ethos of Russian rap essentially led him to say, “Fuck it, I’m on my own shit” and pierced right through his Dead Dynasty collective.

In the Russian rap scene, he is crowned the king of emo and rap because his thing is rapping about the emotional need and fight for independence.

Just listen to "Phosphor" where he lets out a deadly scream penetrating through a dark forest, rapping about his most sacred desires to prosper beyond the realm of social media influence. He subconsciously knows he's worth a ton more.

He’s intricate. He’s blond. He’s 6’1". He’s a deviant and a stoner as he raps about his undeniable love for sativa in most of his songs. Normally he’s sporting a rather formal streetwear look in most of his videos... aside from one of my favorites (ДИКО, НАПРИМЕР) where he’s dressed from head-to-toe in faux fur accompanied by two Pharaoh hounds.

In that video, he’s very much the alpha male dominating the party scene and making sure everyone knows it. His hair slicked back, white wine in hand, and his duster following his every move, he leads his herd to a royal feast they will never forget.

The text of the song reiterates that the crew is smoking loud, drinking strong, and fucking hard. Is it an escape from the cruel depths of reality left behind? Is it a proverbial middle finger to record labels worldwide proving the power of independent artists is stronger than it's ever been?

You'll be the judge.