By looking deep, deep inside, the Pulitzer Prize-winning rapper avoids the strain of expectation. Kendrick Lamar’s debut album in five years didn’t require any pre-publication hype. The Compton rapper did nothing but announce the release date and that intriguing title a month ago, then released one song last weekend, The Heart Part 5, which isn’t included among the 18 new tracks.
Lamar with his family (the new baby is named Enoch, he says on Worldwide Steppers), a crown of thorns on his head, and a rifle tucked into his jeans were all on the cover, which was shown on Wednesday.
In contrast to his classmates’ clashing egos, the 34-year-old has been a Christian since his teens and frequently appears quiet, monk-like. When he is widely regarded as the greatest rapper of his generation, and his extraordinary 2015 album To Pimp a Butterfly spoke to the pain of all black America, then became the first musician outside the jazz and classical worlds to win the Pulitzer Prize for Music with the follow-up, Damn, some level of detachment must be required.
By focusing deep, deep inside, he avoids the strain of worldwide expectation and all those imminent eyes on him when he eventually headlines Glastonbury next month. Because a female voice commands him to “Stop tapdancing around the conversation,” the sound of clicking shoes accompanies him throughout the record, although it feels like there is no subject he avoids.
Over stark, frantic beats and melancholy piano, he recalls crimes he’s witnessed and admits to regular meetings with a psychologist from the first song, United in Grief. Father Time has a swooning chorus sung by Sampha (one of two reclusive Brits Lamar has uncovered on this album, with Beth Gibbons of Portishead), and sees the rapper confessing to “daddy issues” due to an unforgiving father.
The sound is more varied and generally gentler than Damn, yet less jazzy and restless than…Butterfly. Die Hard, with its beautiful chorus by Barbadian vocalist Amanda Reifer, and Silent Hill’s crisp, lighter sounds, have moments that qualify as poppy. There are, however, some difficult listens.
We Cry Together features a heated fight between Lamar and his partner, Taylour Paige, in which she accuses him of being responsible for Donald Trump, R Kelly, and Harvey Weinstein. Mother I Sober is a powerful emotional exploration that begins with a family’s narrative of child abuse allegations and expands to “the tragedy haunting generations and humanity.”
Auntie Diaries, in which he talks about his growing acceptance of two transgender family members, is also certain to get a lot of attention. It’s a world away from hip hop’s customary concerns, and Lamar has once again proven to be miles ahead of the competition.
