“Every n***** is a star”. From the opening lyric to Kendrick Lamar’s latest album it’s immediately apparent this is an album about race. Yet where other artists (I’m looking at you Kanye) have created abrasive and aggressive works on the subject, Lamar makes a political statement whilst maintaining integrity, subtlety and musicality.
Where ‘good kid, m.A.A.d city’ was a personal album on gang
life in Compton, ‘To Pimp A Butterfly’ sees Lamar exploring his position in society, specifically as a black man. It’s a broader theme but with a far wider cultural reach. He
questions the media’s exploitation of race, racial stereotypes and utilises
slave imagery to make his point – and that’s just in the first handful of
tracks. From there, this is a story of his own redemption, his growth as an
artist, escaping the Hood Politics of
his past into a (potentially) brighter future.
The album’s central conceit is epitomised by the contrasting
lyrics of u and i. The former track begins with a series of screams and it soon
becomes clear that the “you” of the title is himself as he delves into the
darkest corners of his own mind, berating himself (“loving you is complicated”).
It’s in contrast with the latter track, lead single i, that’s tellingly the penultimate of the album – finally he’s
found peace (“I love myself”). But that comes after his most spiteful moment, The Blacker The Berry, on which he scrutinises
racial self-hatred and the impact of gang culture – “the blacker the berry, the
bigger I shoot”. Together with previous track Complexion (“complexion don’t mean a thing”), it proves that he’s the “biggest hypocrite of 2015”, the album as
a whole reflecting the contradictions of life as an African-American.
Of course, race and black anger is a typical theme within
hip-hop, but Lamar takes things a step further with form. Where ‘good kid,
m.A.A.d city’ used skits to create a cinematic approach to music, here the
lyrical content is more introspective and poetic with an overarching narrative
of, to use the title, a butterfly breaking free of the cocoon of
institutionalised racism and politics. The album’s central message is conveyed
in a poem repeated in snippets throughout the album, a unifying statement. There’s
thematic depth here that requires repeated listening to comprehend, but it
proves far more rewarding than the shouted rants of other similar hip hop
artists. This is an album that surely resonates with a wider cultural context.
Racial politics are inherent within the music too. Just as
Lamar looks at his own past to consider his future, musically he re-appropriates
traditionally black genres: funk, r&b, jazz and, of course, hip-hop. It lends
the album a palatable old school flavour, full of bubbling basslines, relaxed
beats and a semi-improvised jazz sensibility that reflects the lyrical stream
of consciousness. Production-wise, the likes of Prince and Michael Jackson are
big influences – the latter in particular is quoted on numerous occasions. It
has a more consistent tone than the previous album, but equally it’s missing an
anthem akin to Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe or
Swimming Pools (Drank). Combined, though,
the tracks make a far more powerful statement – bristling, snarling, angry, yet
equally sexy.
Final track Mortal Man
is more of a coda; a beautifully sombre track that
references the likes of Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King Jr and John F.
Kennedy, before launching into a conversation with Tupac (sampled from a 1994
interview). Through this, Lamar is positioning himself not only as the next king of
hip-hop but as a great black leader. It’s a moment of braggadocio that
undermines the subtlety of the rest of the album and comes off as preaching. It’s
unnecessary; even without it he's the most important rapper of our time.
5/5
Gizzle’s Choice:
* These Walls
* Momma
* i
Listen: ‘To Pimp A Butterfly’ is available now.