Lushe

in agreement with Pulp Agency & 17 RECORDS Some trajectories follow no known logic. Lushe did not grow up in rap. At 20, he started filming videos on TikTok — a microphone, a sample, a few words laid down. No calculation, no strategy.

Just the undeniable talent of a guy who knows how to write. He moves seamlessly from Rihanna to Aznavour, or Le Temps est bon, eventually creating his own samples. The buzz begins.

Culminating in a freestyle imagining a feat with Big Flo & Oli, laid over the final seconds of one of their tracks. The dream becomes reality: the two Toulouse rappers invite him to record it for real. Lushe is 21 with two years of rap behind him.

This youth is not a mere detail — it is the core of the persona. He is not formatted by a decade on stage, he did not internalize the codes before writing. He arrives with his obsessions intact: a childhood partly spent in Russia, a depression navigated.

All of this enters his lyrics without being paraded — with the restraint of someone who has learned to distinguish what is said from what is sung. His rap is boom bap, classic in form, singular in substance.

Without looking for it, Lushe is establishing himself as one of the spearheads of a strong revival of classic rap, a genre once thought to be dying out that is finding a new lease of life.

Montmartre — his best-known track — simply tells a true story: two lovers at the top of a hill, an I love you said for the first time, and a letter addressed to his partner to remind her that she is strong, that she must never doubt it.

There is a tenderness, a sincerity in this track that touches without trying to touch. That is perhaps what explains all the rest.

In two years, Lushe has reached 700,000 monthly listeners on Spotify, wrapped up a sold-out French tour and sold out La Maroquinerie in under twenty-four hours for his first solo concert. His community, loyal and attentive to the lyrics, follows hi