Kendrick Lamar Can Do No Wrong

DAMN. Album Review

May 8, 2017

Kendrick Lamar has nothing to prove. No artist today has bridged the gap between critical acclaim and commercial success in the same way, and he is a messianic figure in modern hip-hop. With an artist as intentional and prolific as Lamar, though, it’s important to view his work in the context of his recent discography. Good kid, m.A.A.d city is a west coast revival album with a narrative arc that cemented Kendrick’s place in hip-hop’s pantheon. To Pimp A Butterfly is a sonically-challenging album about the Black experience, as inspired by preceding Black genres. DAMN., however, can’t be captured in a sentence. 

Kendrick’s fourth studio album is fluid, and his penchant for repetition and juxtaposition make it even harder to pin down. Menacing, brazen beats are made to be perfectly wonky and unique on “HUMBLE.” and “DNA.” These trunk-rattlers are contrasted with trade-mark introspective Kenny on tracks like “FEAR.” and “FEEL.,” and the end result is a distillation of rap’s recent trend towards self-representation. Kendrick’s entire discography is layered and allegorical, but with DAMN., his storytelling abilities are used in the context of contradiction. 

Kendrick has the unique gift of being able to verbalize poignant anxieties and experiences. He’s a storyteller above everything else, and his best work manifests in his vulnerability. Rap’s anointed savior isn’t a man without sin, yet he approaches his craft acutely self-aware. DAMN. is Kendrick Lamar’s reckoning. This is a platinum-certified, 14-track collection, but it’s also a personal conversation with God about his cursed people. Kendrick is an outlier in hip-hop’s current landscape in that he has no apparent philosophy; his spirituality drives his art. Kendrick sheds the philosophical implications of being an introspective rapper, and he doesn’t reckon with christianity, a man-made construct — he reckons with God and his attitude as a self-proclaimed Israelite. The nebulous nature of DAMN. is fundamentally a result of his identity taking precedence over any ideology.

Another man’s view of his own humanity and shortcomings isn’t inherently accessible, however, and, as such, no artist today demands rewinds the way Kendrick Lamar does. Even his most commercially viable tracks are hypnotizing and nuanced. Every track is smooth like bourbon (even those I have no desire to re-visit, like “GOD.” and “LOVE.”), while maintaining the healthy burn invariably present in Kendrick’s pen. Perhaps Kendrick’s most surface-level characteristic is also one of his most powerful tools. Lamar raps with a subversive flow that sounds more like speaking at times that rapping. Most evident as the album winds down, DAMN. seemingly culminates in “FEAR.,” a seven minute triptych in the same vein as “Sing About Me, I’m Dying of Thirst.” Still, none of his work is innately intuitive. Kendrick’s bait-and-switch becomes apparent in the album’s true climax, 9th Wonder produced, “DUCKWORTH.” The story of Tony, Ducky and coincidence encapsulates the circumstances that shape Kendrick’s worldview: the wickedness and weakness of life in Compton. With the final gunshot on “DUCKWORTH.,” samples from the entire album accelerate in reverse, almost prompting the listener to rewind the album. Rewind the album.

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This review was originally published in the chariot magazine.

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