Instead of giving you another biased album review with subjective statements from one listener's point of view, we decided to use a more holistic approach by asking three different listeners to share their opinions on Kendrick Lamar's latest album, To Pimp a Butterfly. In addition to regular contributor J. Brown, we received the reviews from singer/rapper/songwriter David Brown from Atlanta and videographer Rae Ruckus from NYC. None of the writers were given any of the other reviews prior to submitting their own, so each writer's piece is solely representative of the album as they heard it. Now, on to the reviews...
David Brown
Kendrick Lamar took a
very different approach for his sophomore album, To Pimp A Butterfly,
and it worked. Since I am a fan of Lamar, I've watched pretty
much every interview that he’s had in preparation for this album. In each
interview, he would stress the fact that this album’s sound would be different
than any other project, and in fact, it was. The instrumentation was immaculate
due to the amazing production accompanied by the live instruments throughout
the project.
Lamar starts the project off with a track called, “Wesley’s Theory”, which
features Thundercat and George Clinton. The song begins with an unusual sample
from Boris Gardiner’s track called “Every Nigger Is a Star”. The first verse is
from the perspective of any black entertainer, while the second verse is from
the perspective of capitalist America, personified by Uncle Sam. I liked this
track a lot and felt like it was a great intro. "Wesley's Theory" is
followed by a spoken word interlude called, “For Free?” On this track, he shows
his keen sense and ability to make analogies out of anything by talking to a
female who is supposed to represent America. Following that is a song called
“King Kunta”, which brings a very funky feel and describes how he feels like
"the man" now. At the end of the record, Kendrick recites a sentence
which seems to be a poem. He continues to add pieces to the poem throughout the
album.
The song which stood out to me the most was “u”, because I could relate to
Lamar so much on this record. In the first half, Lamar, almost screaming, was
pretty much talking himself down by expressing how difficult it is to love
himself. It gave me a very dark, gritty feeling, almost as if he was close to
suicidal in thought. In the second half of the song, Lamar sounds almost
disappointed with himself as he sheds tears. An occasional shot of alcohol was
taken while he was expressing himself through the verse.
“Alright”, produced by Pharrell, is the track which I feel can be a radio hit,
simply because of the feel of the song and the way it is constructed. It's
pretty much the only track on the album that uses an 808 and a 120 bpm tempo.
“For Sale?”, which is track number 8, was probably the song that was the
creepiest. He mentions someone by the name of Lucy, which I assume was an
abbreviation for Lucifer. It almost seemed as though Lamar was describing the
deception of Lucifer, who will blind you with all of these material things just
to trap you. This track was definitely an eye-opener because it felt so
relatable. Everybody gets tempted by Lucifer, and the temptation always seems
so sweet. Lamar did an excellent job getting his message across. The evils of
“Lucy” were surrounding Lamar, so he went searching for answers. His search
brought him back home on the next track, “Momma”.
The rest of the album pretty much touches on topics that need to be spoken on, such as politics, insecurity issues, staying true to yourself without worrying about being seen as "cool", and other everyday thoughts that might never be said by most rappers. Lamar was the perfect one to put it together the way he did, because he knows how to make the listener connect with him through his music. On the last track, “Mortal Man”, Lamar ends with the poem that he had been reciting throughout the album. He finishes the poem, and then he begins talking to someone. The voice sounded unfamiliar to me at first, but I soon realized that he was talking to Tupac! His interview with Tupac at the end of the project explains how the album's title connects to his own life and the overall message of the album. It was the perfect way to finish off his masterpiece.
The rest of the album pretty much touches on topics that need to be spoken on, such as politics, insecurity issues, staying true to yourself without worrying about being seen as "cool", and other everyday thoughts that might never be said by most rappers. Lamar was the perfect one to put it together the way he did, because he knows how to make the listener connect with him through his music. On the last track, “Mortal Man”, Lamar ends with the poem that he had been reciting throughout the album. He finishes the poem, and then he begins talking to someone. The voice sounded unfamiliar to me at first, but I soon realized that he was talking to Tupac! His interview with Tupac at the end of the project explains how the album's title connects to his own life and the overall message of the album. It was the perfect way to finish off his masterpiece.
Kendrick Lamar really raised the bar and showed out on this project. Any other rapper planning on releasing a project this year should make sure that it meets the level of creativity that Kendrick put in on his latest work.
J. Brown
2014 was a year that was
largely dictated by racial news. Macklemore upset Kendrick Lamar for Best Rap
Album at the Grammys. Donald Sterling lost the Clippers. Darren Wilson didn't
get indicted. "Black Lives Matter" became a hashtag and a mantra. In
many ways, it seems that the racial charge of last year influenced the creation
of To Pimp a Butterfly. From beginning to end, Kendrick Lamar's album
explores not only what it means to be Black, but explores the idea of Blackness
from a variety of perspectives (Black gang members, the Black and rich, Black
Americans in Africa, etc.)
The first half of the album feels very much to be coming from a place of internal conflict. While his first album focused mostly on his experiences as a kid from Compton, his second album comes from the perspective of a millionaire rap superstar. And he doesn't seem completely comfortable being that guy. Through the first four tracks of the album, Kendrick seems to struggle with an internal tug-of-war that pulls him between where he's from and where he's going. (Nas touched on this idea on his 2012 Life is Good album.) Furthermore, there seemed, to me, a bigger question at stake: Is being a successful Black man inherently contradictory? Does accepting this success make you less in touch with the Black community - or worse - less Black? Tracks like "u" and "For Sale?" express a resentment that he holds towards himself for being successful; or maybe it's a resentment towards the system that's created his success. He screams at himself for neglecting his childhood friends and references suicidal thoughts. He later discusses the rewards of his success as having been provided by "Lucy" (or Lucifer), implying that those rewards are all rooted in evil.
But the album takes an interesting turn at the midway point. On "Momma" (which I had to listen to a few times to realize was a song about going to Africa), Kendrick has his Malcolm-goes-to-Mecca moment. He describes the moment when he recognizes that everything he thought he knew was really only a glimpse of a larger picture. His trip to Africa exposes him to a unity that he feels is lacking between American Blacks with different viewpoints, different affiliations, different allegiances and different social statuses. In Africa, he learns that these differences all pale in comparison to the more important status that we all share: Blackness. To me, the second half is more enjoyable than the first. While the first 8 tracks seem to have a discomfort that's borderline combative, the end of the album comes from an artist who finally learns to become comfortable in his own skin, literally and figuratively.
"The Blacker The Berry" is reminiscent of the Kendrick I fell in love with when I first heard Section.80. "How Much a Dollar Cost" is an excellent study on the idea of charity in a capitalist society (and even furthermore, the obligation for Christian believers to be charitable). "You Ain't Gotta Lie" is a scathing criticism of the wannabe thugs and gangstas in the rap industry. Most enjoyable, Kendrick delivers a version of “i" that is different than the previously released single, and performs an amazing verse at the end of the song which serves as my favorite moment on the album.
Kendrick's thinly veiled criticism of the same American capitalistic system that he's benefited from is a rare contrast from the usual "bottles and bitches" glorification that has become the anthem of most of today's popular rappers. This is quite apropos, anyway, because this entire album seems to be very much in a category of its own. My initial difficulty to connect with the album might have stemmed from the recognition that it didn't really sound like a rap album. I didn't really know what I was listening to, and I think that made it difficult to really know how to critique it. Should I judge this as a rap album? Spoken word? Or maybe it's something else altogether?
In the end, I decided that the album is simply a piece of art that represents the artist's current mind state. While listening, I drew a number of parallels to J. Cole's recent 2014 Forest Hills Drive album. Though the content differs, the artists both seem to have created albums rooted in their recently updated views of the world. For Cole, that meant realizing that appreciating who you are and where you come from is more important than worldly successes. For Lamar, that meant recognizing the importance of Black love and unity. I think he also recognized that his success shouldn't be a reason for survivor's remorse, but should instead be used as a platform to share what he's learned with others. For both artists, their latest albums express a mature level of self-awareness that comes from a newfound, depreciated view of fame and its surrounding implications.
On a deeper level, I think I struggled to critique the album because I don't really believe that Kendrick made this record for us to simply listen to. I think he wanted us to break down the themes, learn from them, and carry those lessons forward. To me, it felt like an album that would rather be studied than enjoyed. Maybe that's why I had a hard time getting into it initially. Also, I wasn't a huge fan of the production choices; the only beats I really vibe with are "King Kunta", "Alright","Momma", and "i". Overall, did I "like" the album? I think I liked it in the same way I like reading thought-provoking books. In many ways, actually, the album felt like documentary text. While I appreciate the message of the album and respect Kendrick's artistry, I don't foresee myself revisiting the album very much months from now for the purposes of easy listening. That's fine, though; I don't think that's what Kendrick Lamar was really going for, anyway.
The first half of the album feels very much to be coming from a place of internal conflict. While his first album focused mostly on his experiences as a kid from Compton, his second album comes from the perspective of a millionaire rap superstar. And he doesn't seem completely comfortable being that guy. Through the first four tracks of the album, Kendrick seems to struggle with an internal tug-of-war that pulls him between where he's from and where he's going. (Nas touched on this idea on his 2012 Life is Good album.) Furthermore, there seemed, to me, a bigger question at stake: Is being a successful Black man inherently contradictory? Does accepting this success make you less in touch with the Black community - or worse - less Black? Tracks like "u" and "For Sale?" express a resentment that he holds towards himself for being successful; or maybe it's a resentment towards the system that's created his success. He screams at himself for neglecting his childhood friends and references suicidal thoughts. He later discusses the rewards of his success as having been provided by "Lucy" (or Lucifer), implying that those rewards are all rooted in evil.
But the album takes an interesting turn at the midway point. On "Momma" (which I had to listen to a few times to realize was a song about going to Africa), Kendrick has his Malcolm-goes-to-Mecca moment. He describes the moment when he recognizes that everything he thought he knew was really only a glimpse of a larger picture. His trip to Africa exposes him to a unity that he feels is lacking between American Blacks with different viewpoints, different affiliations, different allegiances and different social statuses. In Africa, he learns that these differences all pale in comparison to the more important status that we all share: Blackness. To me, the second half is more enjoyable than the first. While the first 8 tracks seem to have a discomfort that's borderline combative, the end of the album comes from an artist who finally learns to become comfortable in his own skin, literally and figuratively.
"The Blacker The Berry" is reminiscent of the Kendrick I fell in love with when I first heard Section.80. "How Much a Dollar Cost" is an excellent study on the idea of charity in a capitalist society (and even furthermore, the obligation for Christian believers to be charitable). "You Ain't Gotta Lie" is a scathing criticism of the wannabe thugs and gangstas in the rap industry. Most enjoyable, Kendrick delivers a version of “i" that is different than the previously released single, and performs an amazing verse at the end of the song which serves as my favorite moment on the album.
Kendrick's thinly veiled criticism of the same American capitalistic system that he's benefited from is a rare contrast from the usual "bottles and bitches" glorification that has become the anthem of most of today's popular rappers. This is quite apropos, anyway, because this entire album seems to be very much in a category of its own. My initial difficulty to connect with the album might have stemmed from the recognition that it didn't really sound like a rap album. I didn't really know what I was listening to, and I think that made it difficult to really know how to critique it. Should I judge this as a rap album? Spoken word? Or maybe it's something else altogether?
In the end, I decided that the album is simply a piece of art that represents the artist's current mind state. While listening, I drew a number of parallels to J. Cole's recent 2014 Forest Hills Drive album. Though the content differs, the artists both seem to have created albums rooted in their recently updated views of the world. For Cole, that meant realizing that appreciating who you are and where you come from is more important than worldly successes. For Lamar, that meant recognizing the importance of Black love and unity. I think he also recognized that his success shouldn't be a reason for survivor's remorse, but should instead be used as a platform to share what he's learned with others. For both artists, their latest albums express a mature level of self-awareness that comes from a newfound, depreciated view of fame and its surrounding implications.
On a deeper level, I think I struggled to critique the album because I don't really believe that Kendrick made this record for us to simply listen to. I think he wanted us to break down the themes, learn from them, and carry those lessons forward. To me, it felt like an album that would rather be studied than enjoyed. Maybe that's why I had a hard time getting into it initially. Also, I wasn't a huge fan of the production choices; the only beats I really vibe with are "King Kunta", "Alright","Momma", and "i". Overall, did I "like" the album? I think I liked it in the same way I like reading thought-provoking books. In many ways, actually, the album felt like documentary text. While I appreciate the message of the album and respect Kendrick's artistry, I don't foresee myself revisiting the album very much months from now for the purposes of easy listening. That's fine, though; I don't think that's what Kendrick Lamar was really going for, anyway.
Rae Ruckus
To Pimp a Butterfly is an audio storytelling where all the sounds on the tracks are used as words to describe the topics addressed in his lyrics. His voice and the production on the album are all instruments describing a visual narrative. This comes from an artist who was at the top of his career after his first album, yet still had the courage to describe his thoughts while introspectively looking at himself and considering how we, his listeners, look at him. (All this was done on his sophomore album, which is projected to be most rappers' fall-off album, which I think should be noted. Yes, I felt that the album was so complex that I had to use a run-on sentence to describe it.) He was aware of everything, and addressed those things unapologetically, only as the man who he was raised to be. You may not agree, but he obviously doesn't give a f*ck. It seemed he got full license to do as he pleased, and he took that to heart, as you can tell by the cover art.
He seemed to try addressing every topic he had thought about when he was a kid growing up in a Black community, but now, through the perspective of a grown man. The thing that sets it all apart is that he examines the topics from both sides of the scale (ironically, he's a Gemini). Topics like:
• Being an “institutionalized” slave but also being as powerful as “King Kunta”
• Struggling with being so lost and confused in the world that you become depressed and even contemplate suicide on “u”, but on the next track providing a feel-good bounce with “Alright”
• Providing a solution to the dilemma of “u” with “i” (self-love)
• Comparing money and religion in “How Much A Dollar Cost”
• Addressing black skin color in a nurturing way with “Complexion”, but then coming at the topic with a tough love approach with “The Blacker the Berry”, forcing us to question ourselves for not being outraged about black-on-black crime in the form of gang violence
Tracks like "These Walls" and "Momma" I think could have multiple meanings. I think on "These Walls”, he's talking about women and their struggle to manifest their femininity. In the song, he make creative analogies to discuss the vagina as a subject that brings both praise and penance. In "Momma", I feel like he's talking about looking for spirituality, looking for the answers to the questions he contemplates throughout the album. When he says, “it brought me back home”, I feel he's talking about wherever “Momma” is, because she is the cornerstone of the home. Then, on “You Ain't Gotta Lie (Momma Said)”, he gives you the answers and a new perspective, telling you what “Momma” said.
"Mortal Man" summarizes the whole album and concludes this journey, a journey through which a very introspective storyteller exposes his soul in an attempt to reveal you to yourself. He calls for your ride-or-die fandom, making sure you know he's not begging, but actually demanding your allegiance. He uses Black leaders as his analogy to show you his vision, because he feels ready to be the Prophet his fans are heralding him to be. To show you how serious he is about his duty, he talks with Tupac for advice to bring clarity.
Deeper Than Rap could have been the name of this album, because Kendrick didn't do anything on this album with a straight-on approach. I feel like the last music I've heard like this came from The Last Poets and Gil Scott-Heron. If you came to this album thinking you would hear rap, then you might not be satisfied, because the production is very jazz-based and there's spoken word. It's not until “Alright” that you hear a beat that has the bounce that most rap listeners come to listen to. Most rap music has the lyrics accompany the production; this album provides the opposite.
To Pimp a Butterfly is a well-drawn picture of a 27-year-old rap artist that can address topics that matter on a deeper level. We've never seen that happen, because most rappers would rather talk about money, women, sex, and materials things with only face value. Kendrick provides you with his heart and mind.
No comments:
Post a Comment