And for a while, it appeared as though I was going to be right. The first single, "i", was one of my least favorite songs of last year. Not only was it mind-numbing from a sonic perspective, it appeared as a white flag. Kendrick seemingly wanted a feel-good, radio-friendly single that reminded old Grammy voters of civil rights protest songs that their black friends told them about in the 60s. For what it's worth, "i" did in fact win several Grammys, and basically everything I said in the last sentence was proven true. So there's that.
In case you all forgot, To Pimp A Butterfly was supposed to come out last year, and was just a few months short of reaching the "holy shit, Kendrick's never actually going to rap again" purgatory that Jay Electronica and Dr. Dre projects currently inhabit. In contrast to the just-drop-it-at-whatever-time-sounds-good method that most rappers are following nowadays, Kendrick opted for a more methodical approach, releasing one more single "Blacker the Berry", the title and cover, and the tracklist, all at separate times. It was then released a week early at midnight on iTunes, for reasons that are still a little fuzzy (possibly a tribute to the great Me Against the World, which had dropped exactly twenty years ago, or possibly a big fuck-up by iTunes), and ruined my sleep schedule for the next week.
To Pimp A Butterfly looks to join the ranks of Late Registration, ATLiens, De La Soul is Dead, ect. as sophomore albums that improve upon classic major label debuts. The albums I just listed are proof that it's not impossible (although I'm sure many people would argue to the death about all thee) to ride the momentum of a classic debut, but it's probably the closest thing. To Pimp A Butterfly will unequivocally be ruthlessly compared to GKMC, and people have been ready to hate it since it was announced, but something tells me Kendrick welcomed the challenge.
Here we go...
1. Wesley's Theory (Feat. George Clinton & Thundercat)
After a brief sampling of Boris Gardiner's 1973 song, "Every nigga is a star", George Clinton introduces us to the project over a Flying Lotus instrumental, which is a pairing I never thought I'd see, yet feels so unbelievable right. FlyLo's instrumental can only be described as his disco-space-jazz-infused interpretation of the sound on My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, and while it doesn't reach the euphoria of last year's "Never Catch Me", it reaches the same ballpark, which is a hell of an accomplishment. K-Dot launches into a few verses, still frolicking in his post-good kid, m.A.A.d. city acclaim, buying Cadillacs, and snatchin' secretaries. The voicemail appearance was a bit goofy, but there's also an appearance from Thundercat in the form of a magical baseline, so it's kinda a fair trade-off. The whole song is over the top, but Kendrick swung for the fences with this opener, and it worked out just fine and dandy.
2. For Free? (Interlude)
I've always had a liking for artists that are able to openly experiment with their vocal inflections (Danny Brown is one of my favorite rappers, and I maintain that Kate Bush is one of the greatest talents of the 80s), and this is the first track on To Pimp A Butterfly where Kendrick's voice may affect your listening pleasure, as this could easily be mistaken for the ramblings of someone who's been locked in an asylum. I find it brilliant, though. After getting his ass completely ripped to shreds by an anonymous female voice, Kendrick scats his way through a lively jazz instrumental, building upon "Wesley's Theory" that he won't be pimped by the music industry. He stands up for himself by eloquently stating that his dick is, indeed, not free.
3. King Kunt
It warms my heart that producer Sounwave crafted an instrumental that could just as likely be found on a Curtis Mayfield or DJ Quik album. "King Kunta", unlike songs that merely sample funk artists (fun fact: every hip hop song ever has a James Brown sample in there somewhere), seems legitimately James Brown-influenced, and its G-funk groove allows Kendrick to go all "Backseat Freestyle" level of bragging. Kendrick's flow sounds almost like a complete replica of Eminem circa 2000, which sounds like a recipe for disaster when paired with said instrumental, but it works shockingly effective, and serves as a brief, yet completely necessary relief from the seriousness of the rest of the album. (Spoiler: some of this album is a bit of a downer)
4. Institutionalized (Feat. Anna Wise, Bilal, & Snoop Dogg)
Not gonna lie, I groaned when I saw these features. Anna Wise, most known for ruining good kid, m.A.A.d. city with her chorus on "Real", and Bilal, most known for ruining Hell Hath No Fury with his chorus on "Nightmares", are two names I've grown to avoid. Sure, none of those albums were actually ruined (although GKMC legitimately lost half a star from me from that hook alone), but they still piss me off to an irrational degree. But how do they sound here? Just fine, it turns out. Neither or said guests do all that much, and Snoop Dogg does another Slick Rick impersonation, which is all he should really be doing at this point in his career. Kendrick's rapping is marvelous, as he focuses on the very real issue of being drawn to the ghetto, even when he has enough money to move far, far away. The instrumental is deceptively subdued, and features enough shifts and intricacies to keep you well entertained if you're not into the whole rapping thing. This is another good sign.
5. These Wall
The instrumental is an obvious continuation of the previous song, but this one is even better, giving off a claustrophobic feel to go along with "These Walls" closing in on Kendrick. Listen closer, though, and you'll realize that he's talking about the walls of a vagina, as Kendrick explains how he was "misusing his influence". In this narrative, he's having sex with a girl he's known for a while, but her boyfriend has just recently been sent to prison. Kendrick knows this, and he feels bad, but I get at least got the impression that the boyfriends was doing time for murdering one of K-dot's friends. So it's a question of morality. Kendrick feels shitty for having sex with this girl, but is he justified? We don't get an answer, but it's something to think about, even after the album ends. Seriously one of the best songs Kendrick has ever recorded.
6. u
One of the more highly anticipated songs on the album, as it supposedly serves as a direct contrast to the message of "i". And quite the contrast it is. Kendrick's self-deprecation reaches a high, as he finds himself screaming while on a drinking binge in a hotel room. He's having a rough time dealing with the hypocrisy that the existence of his musical career has produced. He preaches to his millions of fans, but he hates himself for not being able to reach his sister when she got pregnant. Does the world need him? Is his hard work even making a difference? The beat then switches up to something much more dramatic, as you can actually hear the sounds of alcohol is his mouth and the tapping of the bottle. He's mad at himself for leaving his city while it falls apart, and he even expresses regret over not killing himself. It's an extremely real and honest track that show the lowest Kendrick has ever reached.
7. Alright
Smart move, Kendrick, don't even try to match the lows of "u". "Alright" is a lighthearted song that seems like the single most positive message ever made in context of the album. Self-loathing isn't something all that welcome in hip hop, and To Pimp A Butterfly would have likely gotten tagged with the "emo bullshit" label if Kendrick had continued at the pace he was going. This was still good, though, and although its unlikely, I could see this getting some radio play. So yeah, I liked this song. That's all I got. Not all of these descriptions will be long, you know.
8. For Sale? (Interlude)
I was shock when I found out that this actually wasn't a Flying Lotus instrumental, but rather another product of Sounwave, who has been producing the shit out of this entire damn album. Regardless, this very much follows the formula of the albums first interlude, as Kendrick seems to be lamenting on the previously high expectations he had on signing a major label deal, and having "Lucy" fill his pockets. It ends in a dream-like atmosphere that signals that it's time to go back into the darkness.
9. Momm
Kendrick continues his poem by saying that he went home, and on "Momma", he's in Compton and seemingly back on his feet. It seems celebratory, but that'd be too simple. With an even keeled voice he matter-of-factly states "he knows everything." Not in a cocky or know-it-all way, but in a "I've experienced a lot" type of way. He knows how people work, the price of life, and that he didn't know shit until he came home. He tells of an encounter with a boy and the, "Sun beamin' on his beady beads exhausted/ Tossin' footballs with his ashy black ankles". The boy tries to convince Kendrick that they do speak the same language, and have lived the same lifestyle. It seems particularity weird, considering Kendrick rose to prominence because of his accurate descriptions of the hood, but here he is, having to convince himself that his roots are still in Compton. It's a fascinating layer to the unraveling narrative.
10. Hood Politic
Again, Kendrick's voice is stretched to the breaking point here, and it might ruin the song for you, but that'd be a real shame, considering the lyrics on this thing. He starts off by proclaiming, "I don't give a fuck about no politics in rap/ My lil homie Stunna Duece ain't never comin' back", and of course utters the already famous, "Critics want to mention that they miss when hip-hop was rappin'/ Motherfucker, if you did, then Killer Mike'd be platinum", which is totally accurate. The instrumental is accordingly menacing, and even though the Kendrick-isms in the hook are a bit ridiculous, this remains one of Kendrick's crowning lyrical accomplishments. And yes, that's a Sufjan Stevens sample.
11. How Much A Dollar Cost?
Apparently, this thing was produced by something called LoveDragon, which is actually the name used by Terrace Martin and Josef Leimberg when collaborating. It also doesn't credit Radiohead as a source of a sample, but I don't care what anyone involved says, the chords from "Pyramid Song" are in this damn track. Anyways, Kendrick has been pretty open about his Christianity, so it makes sense that he would record a song that's basically a modernized version of a biblical parable. K-dot's interpretation stays very true to his source material, and delivers a similar effect. After arguing, and ultimately refusing to give a dollar to a presumed crack addict he meets outside a gas station in South Africa, Kendrick learns that the cost of a dollar is his place in heaven. The vagabond reveals himself to be God, and merely tells our hero to embrace his loss. Powerful stuff.
12. Complexion (Feat. Rapsody)
Kendrick keeps things serious, but takes the positive route, as "Complexion" is an ode to women of all races and beauties. More than anything, though, Kendrick is trying to convince his audience that complexion simply doesn't matter, saying, "Dark as the midnight hour or bright as the mornin' sun/ Give a fuck about your complexion, I know what the Germans done'". Guest Rapsody may have stole the show, though, giving the contagiously positive view of her post-racism utopia. Nice.
13. Blacker the Berr
Starting with the track title, Kendrick pisses on the message of the previous track. He's well aware, immediately deeming himself "the biggest hypocrite of 2015". Showing his extreme intolerance towards the injustices aimed at his race, Kendrick begins proudly listing off physical traits that are typically viewed derogatorily. There a "Control" level of anger in his voice as he yells, "I'm African-American, I'm African/ I'm black as the heart of a fuckin' Aryan/ I'm black as the name of Tyrone and Darius". And then he drops the biggest twist of the song: he'll cry and protest over the murder of Traevon Martin, then, in an act of gang violence, go kill someone blacker than him. That's why he's the biggest hypocrite of 2015.
14. You Ain't Gotta Lie
I've seen tons of people compare the sound of this album to D'Angelo's Black Messiah, and while that's kind of a lazy comparison, it makes a ton of sense here. I liked the instrumental, and Kendrick brings a flow that can almost being described as almost Ma$e-y. Not too much to dive in to lyrically, but any song that is able to perfectly blend 90s Bling Era rap with Neo-Soul is good in my eyes.
15. i
How is this shit is so much better? Whether it's a product of immaculate sequencing, or the live version simply being that much better, "i" transforms from the depressingly poppy single we heard last year to the album's beating heart in the midst of all the negative influences trying to bring Kendrick down. Some of the album's best lyrics, though, come after the song ends, and Kendrick is spitting slam poetry at his audience: "I'ma dedicate this one verse to Oprah/ On how infamous, sensitive N-word control us/ So many gave her an explanation to hold us/ Well this is my explanation straight from Ethiopia/ N-E-G-U-S definition: royalty; King". I will never again doubt Kendrick Lamar.
16. Mortal Ma
The album closes out with a 12 minute track that begins with a poignant, 4 minute song. Kendrick acknowledges that his voice has power behind it because of his success, and he pleads for people to overlook his weaknesses when shit hits the fan. He's gonna fuck up, but like every great artist, he still has a message to spread. He discusses his journey to Robben's Island, and how incredibly vicious the media can be, saying, "If the government want me dead, plant cocaine in my car/ Would you see me as a drug kid or see me as K. Lamar?/ Or question my character and degrade me on every blog?" To Pimp A Butterfly is all about Kendrick Lamar gradually completing his poem, so it makes sense that he finally recites it in full. He speaks of returning home and talking to his homies about respect, about ignoring gang affiliations, about not killing each other in their own war. He finishes the album by interviewing, yes, Tupac, and explaining the concept of the album's title. I won't ruin either for you, but the fact that I just now realized how absurd that concept is by writing it down is a testament to how brilliantly it's executed.
Rating: 5/5
To Pimp A Butterfly is a significant artistic improvement over good kid, m.A.A.d. city and finally cements Kendrick Lamar's status as the best rapper in the world. There, I said it. I initially saw it as only a musical masterpiece. Kendrick's team of producers produced a musical soup that takes away the best aspects of Flying Lotus, D'Angelo, James Brown, Dr. Dre, Bitches Brew-era Miles Davis, and countless others. It's a culmination of all the sounds the genre was built upon, and will likely remained untouched for the foreseeable future. Even with that being the case, To Pimp A Butterfly is about Kendrick Lamar. He discusses the highs and lows of life with frightening detail, tackles racism at an incredibly important time, and touches on everything in between. It's Kendrick's magnum opus, and will likely forever fight with My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy for the title of best hip hop album of the 2010s. For my money, though, To Pimp A Butterfly takes the crown. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, a masterpiece of form and noise, impresses the brain like stylized photography. Without a doubt, it's breathtaking. It gives the senses with a romantic, heightened ideal of music, experienced through an constant medium. The sound overwhelms to such an extent that multiple listens are unnecessary and taxing. To Pimp A Butterfly, in contrast, sounds lucid and livable. It's a true, palpable landscape that feels custom made for each listener. Those that will become familiar with the album's details will doubt its brilliance only in the way a My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy-like vacation setting appears in contrast to the place you've lived in your entire life. It looks great, but you haven't seen the bad aspects of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Everyone needs those fantastic diversions, but there has to be something real to return to again and again. To Pimp A Butterfly simply is the anxious, media-controlled, racially-charged 2010s.