Author: Robert Hughes

Kendrick Lamar — a.k.a. The King of Rap — is releasing his fourth studio album this Friday. So we here at TNJN thought that we would honor Kendrick’s divine status by providing you all with our scorching Kendrick Lamar takes. David Bradford, Quinn Pilkey and Robert Hughes will reveal their favorite Kendrick feature, verse, song and album.

BEST ALBUM

Oh boy, here’s the big one. Kendrick’s best album. He’s released three gems and a compilation of throwaways that are better than most albums. Simply put, there isn’t a wrong answer here (that’s a joke, David thinks both Robert and Quinn are egregiously wrong). But here we are folks, before DAMN. comes out on Friday, here’s Kendrick’s best album to date according to Robert, Quinn and David.

Hughes

All three of Kendrick Lamar’s studio albums have been great, and each shows a clear evolution in Kendrick as an artist. For me, however, there’s no debate; Kendrick’s best album is easily good kid, m.A.A.d. city.

Don’t believe me? Take a look at the tracklist.

1. Sherane a.k.a. Master Splinter’s Daughter
2. B****, Don’t Kill My Vibe
3. Backseat Freestyle
4. The Art of Peer Pressure
5. Money Trees (feat. Jay Rock)
6. Poetic Justice (feat. Drake)
7. Good Kid
8. m.A.A.d. city (feat. MC Eiht)
9. Swimming Pools (Drank) [Extended Version]
10. Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst
11. Real (feat. Anna Wise)
12. Compton (feat. Dr. Dre)
13. B****, Don’t Kill My Vibe (feat. JAY Z) [Remix]

Name one bad song. I’ll wait.

SPOILER ALERT: There is not a single bad song on that album.

And what’s even more impressive is that the album is not merely a collection of singles, but rather, 12 songs that can stand strong on their own, but are made stronger in the context of the album.

Each song takes on a different persona that has been beautifully crafted by Kendrick, but the songs fit together to tell the story of a young Kendrick Lamar Duckworth growing up in the streets of Compton, California, and the pressures and tragedies that come with growing up in a gang-ridden city.

The album, however, takes a positive turn in the last half of “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst,” and shows how Kendrick was able to escape a potential life of drug dealing and gang-banging.

Like I said earlier, however, Kendrick continues to evolve as an artist, and all of his albums have been great. I’m beyond intrigued to see how his new album turns out, but if I had to guess, I’m guessing it’ll be great, too.

Pilkey

To Pimp a Butterfly is a masterpiece, one of the most beautiful rap albums ever created. Despite that, Robert’s right: good kid, m.A.A.d city is Kendrick Lamar’s best album. It’s incredibly versatile, and it’s not quite as inaccessible as his most recent album is. TPAB is great, but it’s not always as easy to listen to in short bursts and it doesn’t have the same ability to do everything.

GKMC has enough bangers (“Backseat Freestyle” especially) that appeal to large audiences and are just pure fun to listen to. It has deeply emotional songs like “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst” that are chillingly beautiful every time. It has comedy, it has features from Jay Z, Dr. Dre and Drake, and it tells an incredible story that’s both deeply personal and widely relatable. A variety of rapping and musical styles are shown off throughout the album, meaning there’s a bit of something for every kind of hip-hop fan. And it’s such a positive, uplifting message in the end.

Meanwhile, To Pimp a Butterfly is incredible, but it doesn’t do everything that good kid, m.A.A.d city does. That versatility is what makes Kendrick’s second studio album his best.

Bradford

Ignore the vitriol my two compadres just spewed. Their selection of good kid, m.A.A.d. city as the best Kendrick album is

This isn’t to say GKMC isn’t a masterpiece – the album is a classic – but because I live in this little thing called reality, it is pure objectivity when I say To Pimp a Butterfly is Kendrick’s masterpiece.

It’s also why I’m so damn excited for DAMN. Because when Kendrick released GKMC back in 2012, I asked myself, “How is he going to top that.”

And then, he obviously did with TPAB.

I’m not sure DAMN. can surpass TPAB. After all, no album in the realm of hip-hop can rival it. Not 36 Chambers. Not Illmatic. Not My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.

What you have on TPAB is Kendrick using every weapon in his arsenal at an all-time level. It’s like Russell Westbrook notching a triple-double on Citizen Kane. That makes no sense, but I dig the visual. And imagine if Kendrick released an album titled Rosebud.

Now when I judge rappers, I focus squarely on four qualities: Lyrical content, thematic content, delivery and instrumental selection.

GKMC earned extremely high marks in all categories – the lyrical content was diverse, the thematic content was encapsulating, Kendrick’s flows and vocal inflections varied; and the instrumentals were a perfect blend of accessible and unique.

But TPAB accomplishes so much more.

While GKMC was an insightful tale into daily life in Compton, California, Kendrick really takes his lyrical and thematic choices to another level on TPAB.

In TPAB, the audience gets a vivid lends into Kendrick’s world post-GKMC. It isn’t a pretty picture. Kendrick deals with a number of issues that lead him to suicidal thoughts, such as being pimped by an industry he’s supposed to love, suffering from survivor’s guilt and being able to impact millions of strangers, but unable to impact his own. But as the album progresses, Kendrick becomes a self-confident powerhouse.

The journey is wildly emotional, and because so many emotions are at play, nearly every song feels like a climax. Songs such as “U” and “Alright” and “The Blacker the Berry” and “i” are so powerful in their emotional range that each song could be considered the album’s apex.

But even the songs that aren’t a climax and act as more of a transition from one emotional stage of Kendrick’s life to another are excellent. “King Kunta” is braggadocios and challenges those around Kendrick, asking where they were when he wasn’t a superstar. “How Much a Dollar Cost?” is a stunning tale where Kendrick refuses to lend a homeless man money, but once he learns that the homeless man is actually God, he fears he’ll lose his spot in Heaven. “Mortal Man” – the album’s closing track – continues off the theme of true friendship, but goes at it in a much deeper way.

And I haven’t even mentioned the unique structure of the album. While GKMC is comprised of skits that carry the narrative along, TPAB features an album-long poem. Periodically, Kendrick will recite this poem, but not all the way through. Instead, with each reintroduction of the poem, Kendrick gets further and further into it. By the time “Mortal Man” fades out, we hear Kendrick finally finish the poem, which he was reciting for… 2pac.

Kendrick took snippets of a 2pac interview he was given while in Germany and treated it as if he was actually interviewing the 2pac in real life.

HOW. DOES. HE. DO. IT.

Instrumentally, this album is dense and diverse. The overarching instrumental pallet is jazz, but infused into it are elements of psychedelic music, funk, boom-bap and even some rock. Unlike GKMC, there isn’t a truly accessible, radio-friendly instrumental – “Alright” certainly has the best case for one – and that’s one of the album’s highest net positives.

It’s a challenging album to digest, which is one reason why I think a lot of people prefer GKMC over it. But with enough listens and full analysis into what’s going on, it’s the most rewarding listen of this decade. And not just hip-hop, but across every genre.

Featured image courtesy of wikimedia commons

Edited by David Bradford

Kendrick Lamar — a.k.a. The King of Rap — is releasing his fourth studio album this Friday. So we here at TNJN thought that we would honor Kendrick’s divine status by providing you all with our scorching Kendrick Lamar takes. David Bradford, Quinn Pilkey and Robert Hughes will reveal their favorite Kendrick feature, verse, song and album.

Best Song

Kendrick Lamar is a rapper who makes songs. And normally (read 100 percent) these songs are fire af. So it’s obviously a challenge to pick his best song when so many of them get the juices flowing. But if a parent can select their favorite child, then Robert, Quinn and David can pick their favorite Kendrick Lamar song.

Hughes

Kendrick Lamar has put out more classics than I can count. There really aren’t songs by him I don’t like, but to me, there’s a clear No. 1 when it comes to his best song.

“The Art of Peer Pressure” from good kid, m.A.A.d city is my personal favorite from King Kendrick because his storytelling within the span of just five minutes and 24 seconds is, simply, beautiful.

Like a painter uses a canvas, so Lamar uses a beat to create a masterpiece. “The Art of Peer Pressure” tells the story of a young Kendrick simply hanging out with his friends–or so he thought. It’s not until the end of the first verse that he admits the influence his friends have when he says: “look at me/I got the blunt in my mouth/Usually I’m drug-free, but [expletive] I’m with the homies.”

The same theme is repeated within the second verse. He begins to tell the struggles of living in Compton and how spending time with friends distracts him from those struggles, and inversely, leads him into gang temptations.

I can’t say it better than Kendrick, so I’m going to let his lyrics speak for him.

“We seen three [expletives] in colors we didn’t like then started interrogating/I never was a gangbanger/I mean I was never stranger to the funk neither/I really doubt it/Rush a [expletive] quick and then we laugh about it/That’s ironic ’cause I’ve never been violent, until I’m with the homies.”

As I listen to the song, Kendrick teleports me to Compton, a place I’ve never been. In the final verse, he talks about robbing a house and narrowly avoiding the police, all while avoiding his mother’s advice.

“My mama called–‘Hello? What you doin’? ‘Kicking it’/I should’ve told her I’m about to catch my first offense with the homies.”

I don’t understand how he’s so good at creating art in the form of music, but I will simply sit back and appreciate it in anticipation for his new album.

Pilkey

I wrote about Kendrick’s best verse being the second on “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst,” and the strength of that verse is a big reason why the song as a whole is his best. Yes, it’s the obligatory 12-minute song that Kendrick seems to have on every album. But if the length has dissuaded you from listening to it, I urge you to immediately reconsider your decision.

The first half is hauntingly beautiful, going in-depth on the lives of the subjects of his songs and how they feel about their relationships with him. The third verse is Kendrick himself exploring those relationships and wondering if he’s truly done enough. No matter how many times I’ve heard the song, I still get chills down my spine as Kendrick repeats the hook:

“When the lights shut off / And it’s my turn to settle down / My main concern / Promise that you will sing about me”

It’s an incredible way to summarize to the gut-wrenching story Kendrick has been weaving throughout good kid, m.A.A.d city, but it doesn’t end there. The second half of the song is different musically but it’s just as great. It opens with Kendrick explaining how tired he is of the life he’s been leading to this point in the narrative of the album – one of gang-banging and peer pressure leading to deaths becoming an everyday occurrence. The sins are adding up, and Kendrick and his friends can’t seem to escape them – they’re dying of thirst.

Then, it happens. Kendrick and his crew are presented with a way to escape their past and find a new way forward: they are baptized by a neighbor and accept God. It’s the incredible, hard-earned end to the story told throughout an incredible album. It’s by far the most introspective Kendrick gets on good kid, m.A.A.d city, and it’s absolutely beautiful.

Bradford

Wow, this is a brain buster. First off, picking an individual Kendrick song is difficult because his songs fit perfectly in the context of albums. Second off, he has a bunch of good songs. Third off, fourth off.

I ended up wrestling with about five songs before narrowing it down to two — “How Much a Dollar Cost?” and “The Blacker the Berry.”

Although the former is his most creative story to date, I opted with the latter.

“The Blacker the Berry” is one of Kendrick’s most visceral performance in terms of his delivery. He doesn’t change his flow or alter his vocal inflection like he does in so many other songs. Rather, his flow is blunt and his voice is full of rage. Just check out these set of lines from the first verse.

“I’m African-American, I’m African/I’m black as the moon, heritage of a small village/Pardon my residence/Came from the bottom of mankind/My hair is nappy, my d*** is big, my nose is round and wide/You hate me don’t you?/You hate my people, your plan is to terminate my culture/You’re f***** evil I want you to recognize that I’m a proud monkey.”

While listing off stereotypes and showing disdain toward a group of people trying to destroy his people, Kendrick complicates the message of the song in the final line.

“So why did I weep when Trayvon Martin was in the street?/When gang banging make me kill a n**** blacker than me?/Hypocrite!”

Using hypocrite as the last word is specifically powerful because Kendrick begins each verse with “I’m the biggest hypocrite of 2015,” which also means this song is outdated. Haha jk.

The lyrics are worth diving into, but more than the lyrics, the instrumental is simple and effective. It’s foundation is an emphatic boom-bat style beat with rising synths in the bridge that build the tension of the song perfectly. When Kendrick proclaims “hypocrite!” at the end, the song goes from a blunt-forced trauma to a soothing jazz outro, which gives the listener time to process everything that has just transpired over the song’s 5:29 span.

Featured image courtesy of wikimedia commons

Edited by David Bradford