‘I hope you find / some peace of mind / in this lifetime.’

I have sat with this record revolving through my mind for over a week now and I still can’t even begin to form thoughts sufficient to do justice to its immense importance to the canon of rap music and hip hop culture. To start with, Kendrick has moved the goalposts even further away, taking more risks than anyone might expect from such a huge star in the musical firmament. This is an artist - and I use that word with all the weight it merits - who has produced a run of albums within the last decade that more than matches that of bands like The Beatles, Radiohead, Steely Dan, Public Enemy or solo artists like Neil Young, Bruce Springsteen or Michael Jackson. Yet, taking ALL of the aforementioned into consideration, his achievements may soon eclipse all of theirs. Hyperbolic slander? Naturally, you, dear music listener, are perfectly entitled to feel that way. 

Lamar is not just a rapper; he is a spokesperson. His music does not sound like any other rapper currently releasing music. He has already shown how versatile and furiously intelligent he is on an era-defining debut album that easily equalled Nas’s ‘Illmatic’ with its lyrical honesty and conscious content. Following that up with ‘To Pimp A Butterfly’, widely regarded as one of the most incredible hip hop records ever committed to tape; then developing still further with his mainstream NOT mainstream masterpiece ‘DAMN’. 

In the intervening five years, he soundtracked ‘Black Panther’ and popped a few guest spots but mostly stayed pretty quiet, leaving fans in keen anticipation of what was to come next. Thing is, when you become an unofficial spokesperson for a generation and win the Pulitzer prize for your mind-blowing lyricism, the expectations grow higher and higher still. So, what do you go and do? Produce a masterpiece that raises the bar until it’s heading skyward at a ridiculous pace. And, for those - and there are a lot all across social media - that decry the lack of bangers on ‘Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers’, have you listened to ‘Good Kid, Maad City’? In fact, have you listened to any of his recent releases? Does it matter, really? MMATBS is pure concept. It doesn’t need hits. It is full of life, love, regret, searing honesty, tales of abuse, universal suffering, humour, humility, love, more love, conflict, heartbreak - the full glass, a mirror crack’d and glued back together again.

Like I said, it is difficult to do justice to an album that elevates itself within the industry, until it takes on a life of its own. I mean, Pusha T, Benny the Butcher, Curren$y, Denzel Curry and Conway the Machine have all contributed phenomenal work within the first half of 2022 but this, this is something else entirely. It merits no real competition. 

Where to start? At the beginning, I guess. ‘United in Grief’ - what a way. Within the opening minute, Kendrick has flipped the script three times, the beat switches, he speeds up his flow, every syllable clear - ‘I grieve different’  - continues, a ball of frustrated energy, the string-led backing swelling then falling away, subbed by sampled voices, the bass tones pulling you deeper into the tapestry of his music - 3 minutes 45 seconds in. More flaming, teeming ideas than most whole artists could manage in a whole album or career. How to follow?

Well, this is how.

‘N95’ is a miracle - the aural equivalent of being strapped into a sports car with a blindfold and the wind screaming past your face. When I first heard this last week, I felt tears pricking at my eyes. I can’t explain why. Do I need to? The SOUND is huge, resplendent in raging red robes, Lamar’s flows modulating between bars, his flow flying off the scale, different voices flitting in and out of your conscience. Closing with a squelchy bass and two piano chords, segueing into the even more EPIC ‘Worldwide Steppers’  - ‘walking zombies, trying to scratch that itch’, text messages, teleporting, praying to flowers and trees. The subject matter is openly provocative - ‘fxxking a white bitxh’ - hard to hear, perhaps but brutal in its honesty. Brief switch up then back into the morass - ‘your jealousy is way too pretentious’. 

There’s tap dancing sounds, there’s deathless beauty, there’s pure soul on display and ‘Die Hard’ offers some serenity after the relentless intensity of the opening trio. He asks ‘ I wonder where I lost my way’. His truth is ‘too complicated to hide now’. Is it permissible to be this upfront, this honest? If you’re Kendrick, it surely is. He has ‘regrets’ but he wants a strong family, gets emotional about life. Holy moly - this outdoes Sza herself, sets him alongside Solange, takes him into some new stratospheres of self-expression. Could it get better? From here?

Yessir. ‘Father Time’ goes full, epic mountain scapes, employing the careworn soul of Sampha who woo woos about ‘tough love, bubbled up, no chase I need’. This is BIG, classical overtones, keyboards and echoing bass drum trills amidst criticism of Kanye and his own mind ‘made of gold’. The backwards sample adds a hint of surreal strangeness but, more than anything, just accelerates the fizz popping originality on display in every part of every track, this one being no exception. 

Even the interludes are fascinated by texture and temperament - ‘Rich’ from Kodak Black is hyperactive, all jazz arpeggios, that slides into ‘Rich Spirit’, which floats ghostly across your vision, holding back a little, more reflective for a moment as full on dissonance awaits around the corner. This is Lamar ‘tryna keep the balance’ and staying strong. He wants to confront demons alright and what happens next is BEYOND…

‘We Cry Together’, before you hear it for the first time, makes you reflect. Is Kendrick going to regale us with a love song, a tender paean to coupledom? You couldn’t be further from the truth. Textbooking an abusive relationship, The Alchemist’s underground credentials as an uber producer are secured still further with an eerie, minor keyed piano motif, whilst Lamar and Taylour Paige shout openly sweary obscenities at each other. It is one hell of a hard listen and sits uneasily against the frankly epic productions that surround it. It tells the listener that Kendrick is not looking for any new fans. A couple of listens may not be enough to convince the doubters but this is an album you need to immerse yourself in for prolonged periods. The concept comes alive in every track, the earth almost seems to shift emotionally on its axis, its epic sound like a bear hug at times, at others like a rough pull at the innards. Mostly it floors you with its candid disclosures. The aforementioned is a prime example - not easy but the closing bars tell the deeper story.

 ‘Purple Hearts’ follows, a cry from the heart (‘shut the fxxk up when you hear love talking’), with a nakedly confessional guest spot from Ghostface Killah, barely recognisable, rapping like he is in genuine awe at what he is involved with. The mid-point of this album is deeply reflective, a track like ‘Count Me Out’ bumping a juicy bass line, Kendrick singing, you can hear the sadness in his tones, the way his voice rises in desperation towards its heartrending conclusion (‘can’t you see I’m a wreck / this is me and I’m blessed / anybody else fighting through the stress?’).

These 18 tracks never outstay their visits into your headspace. The music is almost classical in composition : it can feel like the first ray of sunshine and the darkest, stormy night, all within the same song. I say songs, as these really are songs, not just lyrics added to music.  ‘Crown’ finds him intoning ‘I can’t please everybody’, like a tortured spiritual incantation. Heavy is the head that wears the crown, indeed. The marvels just keep on coming, wave upon wave of surprises both rhythmically and lyrically, everything pulling at your synapses with a bee-like bizz of manifold ideas, constructing a termite hill, so perfect in its own ecosystem, breathing independently of the industry. No moment wasted, no angle missed.

The bass bump in ‘Silent Hill’ continues the extended metaphor of stress and mental torture, explored in even more haunting detail over the closing sequence of songs where Lamar leaves himself completely exposed, naked soul on display, no holds barred, nothing held back. Suicide is mentioned, Jesus, ‘Savior’ has an interlude and its own full anthem, featuring cousin Baby Keem, all asking ‘ Are you happy for me, really?’ Those backing vocals echo, so subtle, so beautiful, layering the sound, overwhelming cynicism, bringing you, embracing you with its truth. 

His voice modulates, his anger rises, his need for ‘authenticity’ -  or is it his audience’s - played out over every riff, every bar. Confessional over confessional leaps into a new dimension with ‘Auntie Diaries’, the first hip hop track that openly addresses trans issues (‘Demetrius is Mary Ann now’) and Kendrick’s own, past homophobia. He addresses this and the track changes tack, grows more dramatic still, the beat adopting an urgency, the strings rising, his voice speeding up, ending with a dramatic pause before ‘Mr. Morale’ kicks in and here is the revelation : tribal, frenetic - ‘sometimes I’m afraid of my open mind’ - it is unsettling but furious, hypnotic, unstoppable, a choir intoning ululations in the background. The light that flickered in previous tracks is smothered, the tension is palpable, the beat an angry pulse, Tanna Leone declaiming in the square, and so it continues. 

Hell, for sure, the penultimate song ‘Mother I Sober’, is frankly, more than astonishing, astounding. Its tortured beauty is almost too much to take. Is it rap, is it preaching, is it just pained reality? 

‘You never felt guilt, until you felt it sober’  — ‘I wish I was somebody, anybody but myself’ intones the spectral strains of Beth Gibbons’ heartrending voice, an instrument of truth and caress. 

‘Traumas have resurfaced…’

This song is so intensely beautiful, beautifully sad, loss incarnate, as K says ‘this is transformational’. 

‘I choose me.’ 

Uplifted, the journey coming to its end. K singing again - I am full of Stevie, Curtis, the ghost of Marvin. What a journey. It’s a circular journey, one you can always come back to, replay in full. This album deserves playing again and again. It can salve / save a soul. ‘Mirror’ is redemptive, softly revelatory - ‘sorry I didn’t save the world, my friend, I was busy building mine again.’

‘I chose me - I’m sorry.’ 

Is it possible to award an album 11 out of 10? Every now and then, this happens. A present, future classic, history in its making, preserved for eternity. Your reactions may determine the outcome but the sheer, earth-shattering impact of this release cannot be underestimated. Just listen to it again, then again. Until the end of time, even though it feels like the world is being recalibrated in your ears, your beating heart, your supernova bright mind.

Kendrick Lamar rise - take your place in the pantheon. 

Hugh Ogilvie.