[Click here for part 1]

Questions of race become nearly compulsory when dealing with an anonymous rapper—especially so because of the familiar tropes; with so many sounds and narratives ingrained into hip-hop culture—and thereby extrapolated to black culture—what are we to make of this thematic retreading when it comes from somebody in disguise? We might start asking uncomfortable questions about artistic intent and cultural appropriation. Cue the discussions of race surrounding Spark Master Tape. Passion of the Weiss wrote an article on the Guess The Race Game and the disparity between “an ostensibly poor kid with ‘no way out’ making music to cope with his friends getting shot and a kid in a dorm room in New Haven (lacking those concerns).” Noticeably absent in any Spark song is the N-word; for some that is clear evidence that he must be white. More interestingly, what if it’s an aesthetic choice of omission? But then again, what if we are listening to culturally exploitative music without having the means of knowing it? When Spark raps, “half my old hood gentrified”, what are we to make of it if he is white? Without addressing his anonymity in any direct fashion on the first two projects, all we were left with were clues and hints about his possible origins. (If we’re to take the trope-laden lyrics at face value we’re left with a gangbanging, drug-dealing thug from the projects; and if we were to watch the videos and listen to the lyrics very closely we might even arrive at the conclusion that he’s from the UK.)

When the first track from the third project came out at the end of 2013, Spark suddenly started discussing the value of his anonymity, as if it had just occurred to him that addressing his own mystique was necessary. The first verse from “Picture on my Coffin”:

The godfather of God’s father the ominous

Mobilize a movement of power to stay anonymous

This mask a masquerade of all the hate that I am promised

And I hate that out the gate the hate the way that I was brought up off the product

Jewelry flashing overdosing syrup (certain) death

I’m comatose I’m closing all my covered wounds and open threats

I light a tumor of regrets and smoke a dream to my losses

Rest in peace as it seems, my team we are godless

Fall with a false knowledge of fallen prophets forever falling

Looking high cause the sky is forever golden

And I’mma ride till my pocket is forever swollen

Ain’t no picture on my coffin, it’s forever open

And then the Kollection Feature interview posted on Youtube:

Q: How will you maintain your anonymity while on tour?

A: paper bag

Q: Explain your anonymity

A: wake up. Mask

“The intention is bigger than the man behind the mask,” he explains further as the interview format is apparently hijacked and becomes a vehicle for Spark to soliloquize over some pretty instrumental music and austere visuals (and to show off the inexplicably absurd ‘#Swoup’ (pronounced ‘soup’) video from which nearly all of the DJ drops are culled—“ya like it?”, “you want to kill me?”). He claims he’s at war with the everyone he sees, his phone, his tv; that Paper Platoon means “get your mask on, [it] means let em stop judging you by the color of your skin, your religion, how you wear your pants, how you smoke your weed, how you fuck your bitches.” A message of inclusion: Spark denounces the virtues of fame and tells you to mask up; you don’t have to be them, you can be us, you can be anybody and you don’t have to buy into their bullshit.

This is around the time Spark fell off the map. After the rapidly accelerating release of new content that seemed unbelievable at the time, the entire thing came to a disappointingly sudden halt. And for two years we heard nothing, until February of this year. A minute long teaser clip of five men in hazmat suits slowly walking across a desert expanse and then uncovering an artifact a la 2001: A Space Odyssey—announcing the new album in March. The video went almost completely unnoticed until a new music video was released a few weeks later with seemingly higher production value than ever before, “Livin’ Lavish.”

Before all this all one could do was peruse the message boards for theories on Spark’s identity and the reasons behind his disappearance. Some people claimed insider knowledge; that the new project was coming soon, be patient. I was convinced that the anonymity was a choice born of necessity before it became artistic intent; there are multiple suggestions across the mixtapes of Spark’s gang being an international drug cartel—hence the need to hide his identity; I then extrapolated from his disappearance that Spark was locked up or dead because of it. It seemed like something drastic must have happened. Why else would the immense momentum of Spark’s release schedule be so utterly abandoned?

And now that he’s back, something is different again. The branding element has a demonstrably larger presence in the new videos: Paper Platoon gear and merch abounds and is plastered on about thirty different objects. The songs’ content feel different than the previous five singles that were announced for the third project: there’s an intensity and boldness in material wealth that approach aggressiveness in the visuals and lyrics; a far more direct tactic than the previous batch that veered more toward sinister and suggestive; in fact, for the first time, one of the personages in the “Tenkkeys” video is rapping at you—still masked—rather than just being one of many anonymous, and goofily masked characters, goons. It remains unclear if the address of anonymity in “Picture on my Coffin” or the genuinely heartfelt reminiscence on his dead brother in “Kkaptain Baseball Bat Boi” will show up on the third project (even though the project retains the same name as when it was first announced over two years ago). The differences force me to ask if there hasn’t been a significant change in the makeup of Spark Master Tape in the two year gap.

Without a doubt Spark Master Tape is the work of a collective effort. While there is a decently credible theory floating around out there about who the voice of Spark Master Tape belongs to, I submit that it doesn’t matter in the slightest if it’s correct or not. And thankfully, while the theory has substantial—albeit also circumstantial—evidence, it has just as much plausible deniability as it does credibility. However this theory is not widespread because most fans of Spark have long given up on the search and actively denounce it; not necessarily because finding out would ruin the mystique; but because they recognize that it doesn’t matter who, specifically, is behind the mask. And, for what it’s worth, even if the theory is correct, and I won’t be saying here who it points to, because I too respect the anonymity (although of course, you only have to dig around the internet to find it), I don’t believe that the alleged rapper’s lyrical ability match up to Spark’s. To wit, he may be the voice behind the mask, but he is not himself what the mask embodies, just the tool for its manifestation—again, “the intent is bigger than the man behind the mask”.

This month we will finally be treated to Silhouette of a Sunkken City (barring any unusual circumstances, again), Spark Master Tape’s third project. Whether or not this is the same Silhouette that nearly existed two years ago remains yet to be seen. While I am sure it will be a worthwhile endeavor, I am not convinced that it will carry the same trajectory that I was so eagerly anticipating back then. The greatest parts of Spark’s oeuvre, in my own opinion, were the small moments; whether in a clever turn of phrase that bordered on poetic (“yeah we bleed, / but don’t look, / don’t believe the same”; “I light a tumor of regrets / and smoke a dream to my losses”) or in an incredibly nimble change of a beat mid-song (aspects which so far, aren’t as apparent in the new singles); while Spark so often employs the regular and well-worn tropes of hip-hop, he occasionally transcends them to reveal that, indeed, “the intent is bigger than the man behind the mask”—soon we will find out if that is still true.

These songs were billed as the first 5 tracks for the Silhouette of a Sunkken City album that was announced two years ago (contrast with the previous two videos which are the songs released in the last month for Silhouette):