Kendrick Lamar.
I heard about him through Ta-Nehisi Coates’ blog, analyzing Kendrick’s work.
Good Kid is not simply one the best hip-hop albums I’ve ever heard, but one of the most moving pieces of art I’ve seen/heard in a long, long, long time. I sort of initially bristled at the notion of comparison to Illmatic–my personal favorite ever–but it is exactly the right comparison. Nas was able to do was conjure the chaos of inner city black America in the late ’80s and ’90s. Now Kendrick Lamar summons it nearly 20 years later (with more focus, by the way) and virtually nothing has changed.
"Good Kid" is narrative told from behind the mask. Fantasies of rage and lust are present, but fear pervades Lamar’s world. He pitches himself not as "Compton’s Most Wanted" but as "Compton’s Human Sacrifice." He loves the city, even as he acknowledges that the city is trying to kill him. "If Pirus and Crips all got along," he says, "They’d probably gun me down by the end of this song…."
So when my white friend sees the mighty folder with the songs on my portable hard drive, he’s like “oh Kendrick Lamar I have it too, it’s good right?’”
Good. How can it be good or bad for you? Sorry if it’s offensive.
For him, it’s the last hip-hop album people are talking about. There’s Dre on it, white people’s favorite hip-hop artist (they always will be over enthusiastic; “dude, The Chronic!”). It’s probably been announced on PitchfuckingFork as one of the hottest hip-hop album of the year or some shit. For him, it’s a piece of music you have to listen to because it’s hot. It’s a product.
To me, it’s a look in the soul of a young black man in Los Angeles. As I understand lyrics probably much better than my French friends now, it strikes me hard how great Kendrick’s raps are. To me, this album is a blog. To me who rode through South LA, Compton, who read the construction of this city, segregation, civil rights, fights to live a normal life, the BPP and its assassination, the crack epidemic… It’s powerful to have someone tell you a story from the inside, how his world functions and how fucking alarming it is, narrated with cold humor and cold facts from warm LA.
And then there’s the connection with the universal struggle black people and black men have to deal with. Remember, a Newton every four months in black Chicago. This fucking hopelessness. The system is running over our hopes, hard work, everything. There’s no fixing anymore. Do what you can to escape.
There’s a great connection happening to me and I don’t see where my friend is getting any. So somehow, I don’t see where this album is good or bad to him. Like I wouldn’t be able to say if some indie rock band is good or not as I can’t really connect to this music therefore I wouldn’t be able to have an opinion about it nor act like I know what I’m talking about. Double standard in yo face, Harold. Which I don’t care so much about, compared to consistency and making sense.
This is where I have a big disconnection with my white world, even if we listen to the same stuff.