Chance The Rapper shows us again that he’s so 2015 by announcing another surprise album. Chance took time out of a performance at Michigan State to tell the crowd that his new project Surf would be out within the week. Also because it’s 2015, the album will be completely free; just like his glorious mix tape Acid Rap.
It seems that Surf isn’t strictly a Chance The Rapper album. But instead highlights his live band The Social Experiment. In particular, it’s going to put the talents of trumpet player, Donnie Trumpet, centre stage. (No relation to Australian trumpet prodigy, Timmy Trumpet). It’s possible that we might expect an official Chance studio album later in the year, predicted to feature the likes of Frank Ocean, Migos and Rick Rubin.
Either way, more Chance the Rapper makes everyday wonderful.
Yelawolf has always struggled with his limited appeal. Hip hop purists find any attempt to mix country with an art form that is distinctly ‘urban’ outright offensive. Conservative country music fans are likely distrustful of any element of African-American culture. In reality, Yelawolf is right at home on Eminem’s ‘Shady 2.0’ roster, with underground outfit Slaughterhouse. He’s an indie artists who’s only popular with rap nerds who can appreciate his aesthetic. Yelawolf’s debut album Radioactive was blasted by critics for its attempt to appeal to an audience wider than the bijou. Bring back Trunk Muzik; the soundtrack for a catfish and corn cookout. Love Story isn’t likely to win him mainstream success, but it will make him loved by critics and hip hop heads alike. On Love Story Yelawolf brings a whole new level of artistry to his refreshing brand of hillbilly hip hop.
If you’ve never listened to Yelawolf before; imagine B. Rabbit’s self-deprecating final battle against Papa Doc – but stretched over an entire album. Yelawolf is a part-Cherokee, Alabama native. The son of a cocaine fuelled rock star, Yelawolf received his musical education in Nashville, Tennessee. He’s as American as mom and apple pie. A quick glance at the track listing shows Yela is pure Dixie: American You, Whiskey In A Bottle and Box Chevy. But Catfish Billy shows a vision of Alabama different to Lynyrd Skynrd. Rap music is guilty of rehashing the same tired themes of money and excess over and over again. Yelawolf brings a perspective that’s not only unique, but genuinely interesting. “Spitting shotgun pellets out my fucking chilli bowl / but am I a hillbilly, no?” he says on Whiskey In a Bottle. The imagery is fresh and transports you straight to Hazzard County. Heartbreak is an entire song about alimony. Best Friend uses the image of Jesus as Yelawolf’s best friend, whilst Disappear uses the image of Jesus as Yelawolf’s actual biological father. Even though this same device is used twice to talk about religion, it’s still so fresh to hear a rapper talk passionately about something other than Balenciaga. Many complained that Yelawolf shied away from his Southern Roots on Radioactive; on Love Story he goes full Confederate.
https://youtu.be/1CcuyePkk4Y
With Love Story Yelawolf promised “something special for music lovers.” There’s no doubt it’s only going to be fully appreciated by people with a respect for genres outside of rap. Yelawolf takes the absolute best of Southern sounds: country and western, folk, heartland rock, bluegrass and blends them seamlessly with hip-hop and pop. It’s so organic that he’s almost invented a genre all of his own. All of these songs are supported by a blue-collar guitar or a hillbilly banjo. Empty Bottles is the Deliverance-banjo-battle for the 21st century. Opening track Outer Spaceshowcases the mash-up. Playing with the southern fixation with alien abduction it’s a blend of sounds of the Deep South and weird, futuristic sounds of deep space. A distorted banjo plays on a strange loop over some 1970’s funk. It’s Jamiroquai meets the Beastie Boys. It’s like listening to the Dukes of Hazzard get anal probed.
https://youtu.be/Z3eLj8GMsH4
On Love Story Yelawolf as a performer is on centre stage. In the age of the rapper/singer, he takes it to the next level by choosing to sing every single one of the albums hooks. Enjoying Love Story is going to depend on your appreciation for country music and of Yelawolf as a singer. Some rap fans might be absolutely baffled by the inclusion of some songs that sound like Taylor Swift B-Sides. Either way, there’s no denying Yelawolf has serious pipes. American Youth is a nostalgic ballad that sounds like it could be a John Mellencamp song. That’s if John Mellencamp had neck tattoos. Or a Bruce Springsteen song, if the Boss had spent the summer of ‘69 on Tylenol and mushrooms. Less music from America’s heart than its sphincter. But the impression is scarily good. You wouldn’t tweak if you heard it playing in the background of a Reese Witherspoon movie. Between expert rapping, Yelawolf lays a hook on single Till It’s Gone that’s as good as anything you’ll hear on an indie folk record. On Devil In My Veins Yelawolf channels Nick Cave or Leonard Cohen for a haunting vocal performance. This one could have just as easily been the theme music for True Detective. Expect a Matthew McConaughey film clip to follow. He also does a killer Chris Isaak on Have A Great Flight. Yelawolf shows his pop sensibilities singing all throughout the Eminem produced Heartbreak. You can hear his range and anger when he shrieks “there ain’t no fucking way I’mma let you take my hard earned money bitch.” Yelawolf’s singing is impressive, varied, and gives the album that extra bit of southern flavor that makes it so different from anything we’ve ever heard before.
Love Story shows to the world the huge talents of Yelawolf. It just might be a classic.
https://youtu.be/i3CFaRCddX8
Before I start this review I have to declare an interest. In early 2011, at a Full Moon Party in Ko Phangan, Thailand, I stumbled off a beach into a conveniently located tattoo parlour and got an Odd Future tattoo. At 19, Odd Future was my world. I spouted (and believed) every single one of their slogans. At only 19, Tyler The Creator had already put out two classic albums. That’s not to mention the huge potential of his crew. I felt safe that this tattoo was an investment in the future. It was a sure thing that Odd Future would be just as important musically in 2050 as they were now. Flash forward to 2015. The words ‘Odd Future’ are only ever spoken in connection with an online socks purchase. You could be forgiven for thinking that ‘Domo Genesis’ or ‘Jasper Dolphin’ were playable characters on Mortal Kombat, rather than rappers. I thank god every day that I hadn’t settled on the word “Swag” across my chest –a term which I thought was as cool as it was timeless.
So now with every Odd Future release, I perform a series of mental acrobatics to convince myself that I like whatever it is they’ve put out. I liked Cherry Bomb. But I need the world to love it. And in 100 years when Yonkers and Beethoven’s Fifth are beamed into space as a representation of the canon of human musical achievement, people will finally acknowledge me as a prophetic genius.
Cherry Bomb is a fitting title. It’s an attempt to artificially sweeten Tyler’s rough-as guts-sound. Mangled guitar riffs are sprinkled with Charlie Wilson vocals. Ear-bleeding bass is sugar-coated in smooth Toro Y Moi production. But make no mistake, underneath the chocolate coating is Tyler’s classic distorted nightmare. If you want a really specific candy analogy, I’d have to go with the Picnic. Buffalo and Pilot share similarities with Tyler’s early work. They both feature the ‘horror synths’ of Tron Cat, distortion and an unsettling drum on the off-beat. Tyler then glazes them with some warmer moments; light piano in the middle of Buffalo and some sweet female vocals on Pilot. Even the violent Cherry Bomb, which is so distorted that it’s barely audible, has patches of warmth with a female vocal bridge.
But Cherry Bomb isn’t just a fun-size snack. There’s a deep engagement with the avant garde that will ensure the album warrants another listen. Tyler has completely outgrown the Clockwork Orange hyper-violence of his youth. Old fans might be disappointed, but shouldn’t be surprised. Tyler’s music has always been experimental, and Wolf gave us more of a taste of his jazz sensibilities and love for all things Pharrell (N.E.R.D and The Neptunes). 2 Seater is mind-boggling in its range. There’s 70’s funk, a smooth jazz interlude and random whirring, which is a tad nauseating. Tyler gives a skewed interpretation of a Pharrell Williams song on Fucking Young complete with deliberately poor singing. The last two tracks Keep Da O’s and Okaga, CA are a free-fall into an experimental rabbit-hole.
This is a wise move. Tyler can’t play the rebel forever. He recognises the importance of showing that he’s not a one-trick pony and that he has some substance and longevity as an artist. Cherry Bomb gives us a glimpse into the epic depths of Tyler’s talents as a producer. Like the complexity and intricacy of the production rivals My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and To Pimp A Butterfly, there is so much going on in every song. It’s clear that Tyler will have a career in production long after his public persona has faded. This is also good news for any tattoo-havers out there concerned about their favourite artists impact on posterity.
Having said that, Cherry Bomb is not an easy listen. Recently, I was very hard on Kendrick’s To Pimp A Butterfly because of its jarring nature. Tyler’s new album is like a dubstep remix of nails on a chalkboard. It has all the intense distortion of his earlier work, which was challenging in itself. But, now his new jazz and orchestral tendencies make the music even more varied and confusing. Sometimes white noise can be relaxing. But throw a saxophone or violin over it, and it’s complete chaos. It’s also erratic; a new sound is introduced every second, and then just as quickly vanishes. It will be literally torturous for parents.
So, can I classically condition myself to like Tyler’s new album? If I give myself an electric shock for every bad thought I have about Cherry Bomb will I learn to love it? With great concentration, I can accept that Cherry Bomb aims very wide, and mostly hits the mark. It’s sonic vomit, but each song more or less achieves what it sets out to do. Deathcamp works as the thrasher anthem. Find Your Wings succeeds as The Neptunes tribute piece, and The Brown Stains of Darkeese is awesome as Tyler’s warped take on gangster rap. But Cherry Bomb was not an enjoyable listen. It’s not something that I’ll be coming back to. The good news is that Cherry Bomb might be a critical success. That means that even though a Beatles tattoo would have been safer, I might not be embarrassed going shirtless at the beach in 50 years time.
Holy whack, unlyrical lyrics Andre!
Yelawolf is back with Best Friend, the 5th single off the Alabama rapper’s upcoming album Love Story. Yelawolf has enlisted the help of his label boss and ‘best friend’ Eminem for the album’s one and only feature. And what a feature. The Rap God has risen just in time for a late Easter miracle. Willpower be praised. Yelawolf happily reclines on this track, providing some smokey sing-song verses and a very adequate chorus all in the tones of his signature country rap. He graciously lets Em do all the track’s rapping.
In the twilight of his career, Eminem has realised that it’s too risky trying to be cool, trying to be edgy, trying to keep up with the Kendricks and the Drakes. He doesn’t want to risk being made fun of by snide hip-hop heads. Instead he’s safe in the knowledge that while providing robotic technically perfect raps may not be cool, it will always be respected. Just like my dads decision to phase his Rip Curl t-shirts and start wearing a sweater vest and tie wherever he goes. It’s safe and it’s dignified. He’s 55 and no one can have a go at him.
Sydney rapper El’ Jistos’ Full Tilt Boogie Mixtape is conscious of its Oz hip hop roots, and is a solid addition to the tradition.
At times, El’ Jistos could be confused for Pressure MC. And that’s not an accusation of mimicry. It’s high praise for a rapper as competent as the Hilltop Hoods. El Jistos is very capable as a rapper – he breezes over the beat in The Consumers and lets the pressure mount on Mind Your’s. He throws in a couple of appropriate guest artists like Kaution and MC Soular, who have a higher voice and a quicker flow, a nice change up from El Jistos’s deeper pitch.
Each track plays on a common convention in Australian hip hop. The Consumers is the designated funk track, Dissolution the anthem to determination, Mind Yours is the philosophical musing and Knock Off Time the generic drinking track. But because all these tracks are so solid, none of this seems formulaic. Rather, it’s another fantastic entry into a genre that’s increasingly having its boundaries drawn. Knock Off Time in particular is just as good as any other Oz hip hop drinking song around.
El’ Jistos has handpicked beats that have a distinctly Oz sound and are perfectly appropriate for the subject matter. He even does justice to the iconic Shook Ones beat, constructing his own original chorus. It includes the memorable line “grow some balls or start practicing kegels.”
But the most promising thing about this Sydney rapper is that the best beats on the album are self-produced. Production wise, the standout track is Intro which uses a simple guitar riff and some light male vocals to build towards something massive. There’s no doubt that when El’ Jistos is able to deliver his deft flows over his own original beats, he’ll have made something really special. One to watch.
Full Tilt Boogie Mixtape is available for free download.
A new study has revealed that murder is the leading cause of death for rappers.
Initially, I thought the report had been prepared by my dad. I thought dad might have been inspired to conduct the study after the successful delivery of a pithy gag that played on the homonym of 50 Cent the rapper, and 50 cent the denomination.
But the study was in fact conducted by a much more reputable organisation, the University of Sydney. Diana Theadora Kenny, a professor of psychology at the University of Sydney examined over 13,000 musicians, to conclude that more than 50% of all rappers had their lives ended by homicide. Kenny follows in the footsteps of John Eccles or Fred Hollows and continues a proud heritage of Australian excellence in the sciences
Kenny said that while murder only accounted for “6.0% of deaths across the sample” it was “the cause of 51% of deaths in rap musicians.” Kenny suggested that the link between hip-hop and the sixth commandment might be due to the “genres strong associations with drug-related crime and gang culture.”
Country musicians affirmed their position as lamest in the music game, with only a pathetic 1.9% murdered. Perhaps surprising is the fact that 4.4% of all folk musicians were murdered. World musicians were seemingly dying in droves, with over 9.5% murdered.
These results might seem surprising for most people. I can name plenty of rappers that haven’t been murdered. And when I do think of murdered rappers, there are only two names that ever come to mind…
R.I.P Magnolia Shorty and Soulja Slim you live on in your music – specifically Monkey On Tha Di$K and Soulja Fa Lyfe
Statistically speaking, out of: Jay-Z, Eminem, Kanye West, Kendrick Lamar, Drake, Birdman, Rich Homie Quan, French Montana, Chief Keef and Young Thug – five of them MUST die.
Chance The Rapper’s debut mixtape was simply titled Acid Rap. Many considered it a fitting title given the album’s buoyant, trippy feel, and its thematic fixation with psychedelic drugs. Earl Sweatshirt’s I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside could have just as easily been titled Xanax Rap. It has a feel that is numbing, languorous and dulled. Further, in a piece of free advertising for pharmaceuticals giant Pfizer, the anti-anxiety medication gets a casual 4 shout-outs across a 10 song album.
I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside details Earl’s relationship with drugs and depression. “Step into the shadows, we can talk addiction” he says ominously on Grief, in his new monotone. At one point, he scarily makes the link with his drug dependency and the depreciating quality of his art on Huey; “My bitch say the spliff take the soul from me.” Is Earl acknowledging that drug use has sapped him of the exuberance that was the trademark of his youth? This new album is certainly his most apathetic. Earl suggests on Grief that he really embodies the creed of his album title “I ain’t been outside in a minute, I been living what I wrote.” His recent breakup with girlfriend Mallory Lewellyn and the death of his grandmother are further causes for Earl’s sadness.
But it’s Earl’s struggle with fame that has always caused him the greatest stress. There are few rappers who have had to deal with the pressure of expectation like Earl. At only 15 Earl was quickly identified as a hip hop prodigy after his merciless freestyle Dat Ass. Pundits recognised Earl as a master of assonance, and a possessing a technical skill unheard of for his age. Anticipation for his debut mounted even higher, when he was prevented from capitalising on the meteoric rise of his crew, Odd Future. Earl finally released Doris, which shocked many fans, but was quickly accepted as a masterpiece. I Don’t’ Like Shit continues to explore Earl’s disdain for the limelight, and in particular, the bitterness he feels for having these expectations placed on him. He doesn’t want to pose for fans photos, but recognizes his obligation, as these are the people who ensure “the paper in your trousers thick.” Earl makes a concerted effort to avoid the mainstream, “trend dodging” as he describes it on Grown Ups. Finally, he is unequivocal on DNA “tell mom I’mma get a gun, if I get too popular.”
The production is handled almost entirely by Sweatshirt’s producer alter-ego RandomBlackDude. This is really, really impressive. On a first listen, I noticed that the beats married up so perfectly with the subject matter of the raps. That was before I realised that Earl himself had crafted virtually every track. Earl has serious producer chops. The beats on Mantra and AM Radio can only be described as ‘cool,’ and the little jazz drum outro on Grief is really charming. The LeftBrain assisted Off Tap is the only sign of any Odd Future sensibilities left in Earl. The beat has the signature aggression and erraticism of his crew. For those playing at home: the voice in the background that may or may not be Tyler the Creator seems like a gesture of solidarity – Earl has not (yet) abandoned the Wolf Gang.
The minimal production and the languid flow means that I Don’t Like Shit is at times, boring. I’ve had to contemplate recently whether boringness is strictly a sin on a rap album. Do they have to be entertaining? Can’t they be appreciated on a purely intellectual level? And whilst Earl’s album is definitely contemplative and introspective, it’s still not Hemingway. It may not necessarily be forgivable to provide fans with so many dull tracks. Unlike the haunting Doris, this one will not stay in car stereos for long.
And maybe this could be more forgivable if I Don’t Like Shit really was the purely experimental concept album that some predicted. Earl’s attempt to buck expectations again, but it isn’t. To a large extent it’s just a weaker version of Doris. Off Top and Wool are the kind of mean, dark cuts that would feel perfectly at home on Doris. But rather than expand on the themes explored in Doris, it aims to do much less. While Doris was a deep, dark and slow affair – I Don’t Like Shit is merely slow. The album feels like it could be Doris’ sadder, little brother. I Don’t Like Shit has a very ‘clipped’ feel. It’s abrupt and limited. I’m well aware that minimalism is the order of the day in hip-hop. But with a run time of 30 minutes, you can’t help but feel shortchanged. All in all it’s an interesting listen. If not for Earl’s rapping, then for his production. Unfortunately (and maybe unfairly) it is not a fulfillment of his potential.
I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside is available for download on iTunes now.
Chance The Rapper’s frequent collaborator Donald Glover (Childish Gambino) has made the successful transition from actor to rapper. Now it looks like Chance (real name Chancellor Bennet) is ready to try the reverse. This is a feat that’s rarely accomplished. Eminem has had a brief, but magnificent film career, while Ice Cube’s has been long and nauseating (except for 21 & 22 Jump Street, which were both awesome.)
Collin Tilley is the director responsible for the iconic music videos of Nicki Minaj and Justin Bieber. In Mr. Happy he tries his hand at an indie short film. Chance plays Victor, a man who rates himself an 11, on a scale of 1 to 10, where 10 is “irreparable sadness.” Not having the guts for suicide, Victor pays for the services of ‘Mr. Happy’ – a hitman in the business of violently euthanising his clients.
The role isn’t overly demanding for Chance. He basically spends the entire 22 minutes looking either awkward or incredulous. He even includes the very staged awkward stuttering that is a feature of all his songs.
There concept is interesting and there’s definitely some funny moments (when Victor’s enthusiastic co-worker proposes that they “do some coke. For your nose.”) Sadly, it includes the cringe-worthy scene where the free-spirit love-interest recklessly leads the terrified Victor to the roof of his apartment to contemplate the universe. “I always wanted to fly” she confides “just be able to pick and go, no matter where you, you could just fly away.” You’ll be yelling bingo if you were playing the top 10 clichés of Indie Short Films. Zach Braff would be rolling in his grave.
Earl Sweatshirt has just announced that his sophomore album will be with us in just 5 days. While the short time frame has come as a huge surprise for fans, who didn’t expect the album until much later in the year – Earl himself is pissed. “I WOULD LIKE TO PERSONALLY THANK @SonyMusicGlobal 4 F–KING UP THE ROLL OUT PROCESS OF MY SH-T. SOMEONE GOTS 2 PAY 4 THEIR MISTAKES ! #SWEAT,” he tweeted. It looks like Sweatshirt would have preferred the album to be a complete surprise, the vogue random release ala Beyonce or Drake. Looks like Sony has denied Earl’s chance to be edgy.
We’re already getting a strong feel for Earl’s second offering. With the title I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside and some scratchy cover art that looks like it could be a credit in a snuff movie, we might be looking at an even more melancholy Earl – has hesunk even deeper into the rabbit hole that was Doris? Now, Earl has given us the visuals for the first official release, Grief. It’s just as dark and minimal as any of the offerings on Doris, but slower. And sadder. The visuals look like a halogen light beamed at a quiet house party. Earl looks completely disengaged. The final frame is Earl in all alone, caught in a coughing fit.
No matter the direction of the album, Earl still has one of the most mesmerising flows in the game.
I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside is available for download on March 23rd.
“I’m not the next pop star, I’m not the next socially aware rapper” said Kendrick on his debut studio album. To Pimp A Butterfly reveals that one of those statements is the truth, and the other a lie. An Avant-garde experimentation with jazz means you are unlikely to hear a single song from To Pimp A Butterfly on the radio. A deep concern for black welfare means Kendrick moves from the projects to the pulpit.
With To Pimp A Butterfly, Kendrick takes an ambitious step to reclaim the mantle that has been left vacant since the death of Tupac Shakur in 1996. He makes the transition from rapper to prophet. “Misusing influence” is a troubling thought for Kendrick, painfully aware of the responsibility that comes with his success. In many ways, his sophomore fulfils the wish of his mother, delivered on the final lines of Real: “Come back a man, tell your story to these black and brown kids…[how] you rose from that dark place of violence…give back, to your city.”
With the killings of Eric Garner, Trayvon Martin and Michael Brown all within 6 months, Kendrick recognises the renewed need for black activism. He isolates the key to affecting positive change; “Respect: if I respect you, we unify and stop the enemy from killing us.” This is a message that is likely to be controversial. Both i and Blacker the Berry suggest that self-respect is the only means by which black people can overcome white prejudice. The album includes a faux-live performance of first single i – complete with missed lines, mumbling and adlibs. One of the albums most poignant moments comes when Kendrick ‘stops the concert,’ when a brawl erupts at his show. “Not on my time, kill the music,” he says. “2015, niggas tired of playin’ the victim dawg…how many niggas we done lost this year alone?” The effect of this is doubly potent given that the entire world is so familiar with the upbeat nature of the Grammy award winning single, which oozes positivity. It’s a dark abruption.
Kendrick tries to create a renewed sense of pride in black communities. King Kunta transforms the slave from Roots into a swaggering king, “black man taking no losses.” Kendrick doesn’t want to reclaim the word “nigga”; he wants to completely re-conceptualise it. He suggests that when it is spoken, it should refer to the homophone, negus, an ancient Ethiopian word for royalty. On Complexion, Kendrick sermonises against discrimination based on ‘shade’ between black people.
https://youtu.be/HvT_6mo6dpA
Other than Kendrick’s concern with racial politics, To Pimp A Butterfly has one other thematic fixation, what Kendrick calls “survivors guilt.” Kendrick has a complex over the opinions of those he has left behind. On Hood Politics, a friend is angry that he keeps getting Kendrick’s voicemail. He warns Kendrick not to abandon his roots and end up in a pair of “socks and skinny jeans.” Kendrick’s enormous success has allowed him to escape the ghettos of Compton, but the fact that he has left so many behind eats at him. After a very real battle with depression, Kendrick finds himself trapped in a hotel room on u. “You ain’t no friend, a friend never leave Compton for profit,” says the voice of someone still trapped in ghetto. “You even FaceTimed instead of a hospital visit” continues the voice, referencing the death of Kendrick’s close friend Chad Keaton, who was shot in a drive-by. Kendrick was overseas and couldn’t visit him; he never expected him to die after complications with surgery.
Just as striking as the album’s thematic focus, is the album’s production. It’s a modern amalgam of jazz, funk and soul that is daring and fascinating. It’s as if Kendrick conceives of these genres as inherently black, and he’s reclaiming ownership, like a centenary tribute to the musical achievements of his people. Even though Kendrick is a hip-hop artist, he has a duty to pay homage to the distinctly black genres that have come before him.
We get a dark acid jazz trip on the Flying Lotus-produced, George Clinton-featuring opening track, Wesley’s Theory, complete with futuristic synths. For Free begins with a saxophone intro before launching into free form jazz, and the track seems more like spoken word than hip hop. Not confined by any set rhythm, Kendrick delivers a mesmerising tour-de-force verse that reminds us that freestyle rapping has its origin in improvisational jazz. Sounwave and Terrace Martin give you funk that you can positively strut to on King Kunta. It even includes some sub-par backup singers for self-parody. The jazz is smokey and mellow on Institutionalized and thoroughly bebop when Bilal comes in with a “zooomzooooszooom.” These Walls evokes the imagery of the musical Chicago. You can visualise Kendrick under a lone spotlight, speaking over the music with a solitary click of his thumb. He smoulders on this soulful track, an ode to sex.
Whilst the jazz on the first 6 tracks is so bold and fresh, by the 7th song it has become thoroughly repetitive. Alright, For Sale and Momma are samey and lacklustre. They bring to mind a word that I never thought I would ever associate with a Kendrick song: forgettable. At this point in the albums juncture, you could be forgiven for not knowing when one song ends, and the other begins. Jazz purists might find the freeform nature of U interesting, but for the rest it will be a jarring and uncomfortable listen. Ultimately the jazz formula is very inhibiting for a rapper. They do not go hand in hand. Its erratic nature makes it difficult for Kendrick to ‘ride’ the beat. Many times it sounds much more like spoken word, or beat poetry than rap. It’s easy to switch off when this kind of droning begins.
For those among you that consider Section 80 to be the greatest hip hop album ever made, To Pimp A Butterfly might be upsetting. For those that consider g.o.o.d Kid M.a.a.D City to be equally good – by virtue of the fact that it’s largely a carbon copy of Section 80 – you might be disappointed. And if you were perfectly content to watch Kendrick rehash that same formula over and over again until the end of time, you might be positively heartbroken. To Pimp A Butterfly shares no similarities with his first two masterpieces. What is striking about those albums is their diversity: there’s effervescent charm on Rigamortis; preaching on Kiesha’s Song; a thumping gangster anthem on The Spiteful Chant, and a chart-topping powerhouse on HiiPower. His first two albums are about colour. They make for the ultimate desert island playlist because of their huge range.
To Pimp A Butterfly has no colour. I’m not going to spell out what shade it most resembles. Both the themes and the sounds are repetitive and subdued. There’s absolutely no denying that Kendrick has crafted something genius, enormous, and important. The whole thing seems like a move pulled far too early in his career. Kendrick shatters expectations. But did anyone really have a preconceived notion of what Kendrick Lamar was? To Pimp A Butterfly is a very challenging, uncomfortable listen. Ultimately, it suffers because it is not an enjoyable experience.