The Best Album of 2015, Obliquely
Warning: NSFW, lots of the n-word in particular. Also impossibly catchy, so it will be NSFW in your head for days.
Once again, 2015 had a bunch of wonderful music, and I’d love to do a Best Of list, but every time I try, I just end up talking about Kendrick Lamar. At the bottom of this post, then, is a really long Spotify playlist filled songs that I listened to a lot this year. I hope you listen and find some things you enjoy. But now, let’s talk about the album of 2015.
For almost a year now, I’ve intended to write a post about Kendrick Lamar’s 3rd studio album, To Pimp a Butterfly. I waited when it was released in March, because it is complex and at times inaccessible, so I wanted to give myself time to fully digest it. Then I waited because I’m lazy. And then because everyone was talking about it, even into the fall. And now I’m avoiding it entirely, because I cannot possibly say anything that hasn’t already been said. I don’t even want to try to say how good it is, as everyone says that too. I mean, it is on every Best of 2015 list, and it’s number one on most of them. All of that despite of its inaccessibility: it is an anti-pop album for the most part (with the exceptions of “i” and “Alright”), so much so that many of Lamar’s fans, who, having listened to “i” for a couple months before the album’s release, were expecting something more like “Swimming Pools” than “King Kunta.” Many were vocal in their initial frustration — I remember someone on Twitter saying after his first listen that Lamar was “just phoning it in,” perhaps the least insightful review ever, but one that was likely a result of the confusion the album can engender – but after a few careful listens, it becomes clear that the frustration is part of what Lamar is conveying. It is as personal as it is political, and as timely as it is timeless. It’s one of the best hip hop albums I’ve ever heard, perhaps matched only by Illmatic, which, given how far above almost everything else that album has been for 20 years, is almost unthinkably high praise.
(Warning: NSFW, lots of the n-word in particular.)
But you see I’m merely gushing. I have nothing to say about the album itself that will help you to understand it any more than the much more eloquent and knowledgeable folks who have written about it have. So instead I’m going to talk about the people who made the album with Lamar. By all accounts most of the tracks were recorded collaboratively, after Lamar and his team of musicians, producers, and friends had immersed themselves in the music of artists as varied as D’Angelo (particularly 2014’s Black Messiah) and Sufjan Stevens for an extended period of time. These collaborators provide so many of the layers that make To Pimp a Butterfly as rich as it is, and deserve a lot of the credit, even if, as Anna Wise put it in an interview (which I can’t find at the moment), Lamar was like a movie director and screenwriter, and his collaborators merely actors playing his roles.
Let’s start from the ground up. Several producers worked on the album, but a few were there for pretty much all of it: Sounwave (that’s not a typo), who also worked on Lamar’s previous albums, as well as on 2014’s best hip hop album, ScHoolboy Q’s Oxymoron; Tae Beast, also a Lamar and ScHoolboy Q veteran; and Terrace Martin. Martin’s love of jazz, funk, and old school R&B is particularly evident on To Pimp a Butterfly, as it is in the work he produces under his own name:
(Not Even a Little Bit Safe For Work.)
(Not quite as bad, but still NSFW)
Flying Lotus also helped to produce the album, adding his experimental, at times ethereal, even psychedelic sound:
Perhaps the most striking aspect of the album’s sound is its dark funk, which is perhaps most influenced by producer and bassist Thundercat:
But even he is not funk enough, so they had to bring in George Clinton for the opening track, “Wesley’s Theory”. Clearly we want the funk:
But we also want the soul, so in addition to Isley brother samples on the album’s first single, “i,” Ron Isley himself shows up on “How Much a Dollar Cost”:
Rounding out the Old School are samples from Michael Jackson, James Brown, the voice of Tupac, and of course, Snoop, who is featured on the wonderful “Institutionalized” (oh, and Pharrell contributed as well, so two birds, one video):
(Radio Edit, just for you)
But Kendrick isn’t stuck in the past. In addition to Thundercat and Flying Lotus, frequent collaborator Bilal makes several appearances, bringing not only more funk, but his New R&B sound:
Then there’s the wonderful R&B artist contributed both samples (on “Momma”) and vocals:
And New R&B artist SZA:
Along with fellow rapper Rapsody:
And last, but certainly not least, the wonderful vocals of frequent collaborator, and my major musical crush, Anna Wise are featured on several tracks. Her own group, Sonnymoon, also released one of my favorite albums of 2015, the bizarrely wonderful Courage of Present Times. It includes these gems:
And really that’s just the tip of the iceberg. One could probably write a year’s-worth of posts on the collaborators alone, and only then begin to talk about what Lamar himself brings. I hope you check some of these out, and I really hope that you give To Pimp a Butterfly a listen, if you haven’t already. Even if you’re not a hip hop fan, with all the jazz and funk and poetry, I have little doubt that it will have something for you.
Finally, here’s the playlist I promised at the start. Enjoy:
Got on the bus, put “Alright” on, and was blown away like I was listening to it for the first time. Damn.Report
1.) I have not yet listened to this, the consensus best album of the year. I have brought shame to my family.
2.) What does the album title mean? Is it a riff on To Kill A Mockingbird? I gotta be honest, it’s a (to me) really actively-unappealing title; but perhaps that’s the point.
3.) Lamar was like a movie director and screenwriter, and his collaborators merely actors playing his roles. – I’ve seen a similar “director” metaphor for Kanye, and I’m of two or more minds about it (warning: this may or may not get slightly political) –
On the one hand, it seems natural to be more transparent about the collaborative nature of making records, and it shouldn’t be seen as any kind of diminution to the guy whose name’s on the tin – nobody thinks Kubrick or Coppola less of an artist, just because they personally didn’t shoot or edit their films. Giving more exposure to collaborators seems like a natural and right move, and in fact one that slightly undercuts hip-hop’s general (and people like Kanye’s, specifically) reputation of huge artist ego and individualist braggadocio.
But in reality, to a degree I DO somewhat discount the “named” artist whenever I see a huge number of collaborators, even though that is obviously unfair. The musical myth of the “lone genius” is strong, even though I know that in reality Brian Wilson and Prince didn’t – COULDN’T – do everything themselves either.
OTOH, I’ve seen Bjork complain about the way that her collaborators are often talked about as though they are responsible for the lion’s share of what’s good about her records, rather than her own vision; and it’s her (and my) impression that this often happens to female artists (and maybe any minority). Bjork, like Kanye, has long collaborated with up-and-coming electronic producers (specifically, they’ve both worked with Arca, who also worked with Kelela and FKA Twigs) and she (and Arca!) want to make clear that Arca is collaborating with her – she’s not riding on his back.
On the third hand, if I’m interested in a particular producer like (for ex.) Arca, I definitely want to know what other records he’s worked on; and I don’t think it’s weird that if all of them turn out good, some of that credit SHOULD go to him.
I’ve kind of lost the thread of my point, but anyway.Report
It’s probably worth noting that, unlike Dre, or to a lesser extent Kanye, Lamar does the vast majority of the work on this album. But he has vocalists and other rappers and musicians who do the instrumentals, producers who do the samples/beats, etc. Wise was asked if, when she went in to record one of her parts (I think on “Institutionalized”), she had any influence on the part, and that’s when she said not a lot, because she was just playing a role written and directed by Lamar. She has a somewhat distinct voice (you can easily find it on the album even when she’s not credited as a featured artist), so she definitely brings something to the album, but it’s sort of like speaking his words with her accent.
He’s said a lot in interviews about the title. Apparently it was To Pimp a Caterpillar (TUPAC) at first, but as the project began to take shape, he changed it to Butterfly. Much of the album is a sort of conversation with Tupac, and one of the metaphors in that conversation is of the artist as a butterfly. The pimp thing is meant to be jarring, and it has a few different meanings in the context of the butterfly metaphor.Report
Also, the unpleasantness of the title fits with the whole piece. It really was jarring when it first came out, because people had heard “i” and thought, “Kendrick sounds happy, and like he’s finally going full pop,” and then he released this album which, though it includes “i” (and a response, “u”) is almost anti-pop, and alternates between outward and inward directed anger. Even “Alright,” at the top of the post, which is probably the catchiest tune on the album, seems to want to undermine its own catchiness at every turn.Report
It is jarring – it’s a word that I think I only usually see used either literally – as in a panderer of prostitutes – or jokingly (though it occurs to me now that the phrase is probably, like “It’s a Sin To Kill A Mockingbird”, kind of a riff on “Who breaks a butterfly upon a wheel?”)Report
Thoughts:
1. My son agrees with you about Kendrick, Flying Lotus and hip hop in general.
2. No matter how hard I try, I cannot get behind hip hop. Just not there, speaks to nothing in me.
3. Georgoe Clinton and the Isley Brothers? Oh heck yeah! Still moping the floor with everyone else.Report
Flying Lotus, and perhaps Bilal as well, are less the heirs of rap than of funk and soul, and while they are undoubtedly hip hop, their music is only rap when they want it to be. Often it sounds more like psychodelic R&B than rap. SZA probably fits in that category too. As does, to some extent, Lamar, though he is in the end a rapper. If you like Clinton and the Isley Brothers, then maybe you’ll find something to like in Flying Lotus, Bilal, or SZA, if not Kendrick. Oh, and Thundercat is pretty much straight funk. And Sonnymoon is space music.Report
I haven’t listened to a ton of this album — or KL in general — though what I’ve heard does certainly communicate the brilliance of his efforts. And yet… he just doesn’t grab me.
In a way, I’m reminded of our conversations about “high” and “low” art. To the extent that such things exist, KL seems to be among the highest of high art rappers in the game (now or ever). I can pour over his lyrics and think, “Wow…” And that’s only when I actually can parse them. I can read a post like this and see the work and thought and brilliance that went into crafting his songs.
But when it comes down to it, I’m rarely in the mood for his songs. Maybe it is a less sophisticated ear or a different relationship with music (probably both, ultimately) but I’d rather listen through Kanye’s Twisted Fantasy than Butterfly… or, hell, even the more acclaimed Yesus. And it isn’t just because it was bigger and louder and catchier. Another “recent” (for me… which means made between today and Haley’s Comet’s last appearance) fave for me was YG’s My Krazy Life, which certainly didn’t have Kanye’s ‘wall of sound’ approach and yet totally hooked me (though I suspect part of this was it’s homage to the west coast/gangsta rap that dominated my formative years).
I kind of put KL in the same category I put The Godfather II: undeniably brilliant, a masterpiece, yet something that will sit dormant on my shelf because rarely am I in the mood for it.
tl;dr: My attention span is too short for this shit. I just want to bob my head and/or shake my ass.Report
This has actually been part of the conversation about the album since it came out. For example, “Why Did Everyone Claim to Enjoy Kendrick Lamar’s ‘To Pimp a Butterfly’?“Report
Interesting. And to me, this quote stands out: “In that narrow band of time, I “got” the album’s messages and themes but couldn’t grasp the motivations for the album’s sound.”
Personally, I don’t really care about the motivations. I get why they matter and are worth considering… but not really by me. Does that mean I’m listening wrong?Report
I dunno if it means you’re listening wrong. It might mean you’re listening differently, though I admit that even if I didn’t know his motivations, I’d enjoy the album. I think the songs are good. But the Jezebel post that post links probably says it best when it says that initially the album can be “suffocating,” because it’s really, really heavy, and that is a result of those motivations. He recorded this album not only in the wake of Mike Brown (NO POLITICS), but also his de facto ascendancy to the throne of hip hop, so that people were looking to him for a statement on everything, and the weight of that burden is in part what the album is about. The single he released right before the album’s release, “Blacker the Berry,” just comes out and says it: “I’m the biggest hypocrite of 2015.”Report
Like I said, I think all that matters. Context absolutely matters. And I don’t mean to criticize those who care — even care deeply! — about things like motivation and messaging. By the 30th spin, I got much more out of Twisted Fantasy than I did the first time. And I can appreciate when there is a message or something being said in the art. But sometimes — most of the time with music — I just want to be entertained. And Kendrick doesn’t entertain me as much as he impresses me.
But if he entertains you? Fuck yea, man. Because his presence makes the game better.Report
That piece touches on something I’ve noted – the speed of new music release (both the constant flood of records, and how quickly they can be put out, often leaking before the official release date) STILL can’t even begin to fill the massive distributed hungry maw of the always-on internet – if you want to write about a record and have anyone actually read it before the convo has moved on, you have to hit “publish” within 72 hours at most of the release; hope you got a copy way in advance.
Which is no way to spend enough time with most records, to freaking know ANYTHING about them.
I wonder if a publication could advertise that they won’t review anything until 30 days after its release, and draw for themselves at least some readers who want to try to see things assessed on a deeper and more balanced level than the current feeding frenzy that turns the entire music criticism convo into the British weekly music tabloids of the eighties: build up, tear down, new new new, is it “good” or is it “important” who cares gotta get those eyeballs before they are gone to the next thing.Report
That publication should hire me, because I’m clearly in no hurry ;).
The 72 hour thing is pretty limiting for everything, not just music (it’s clearly hurt science journalism, e.g.), but the folks I know who used to review music before the internet (or at least before it was where music reviews were done) would get the CD, listen to it for a few days, and then start writing their reviews, so I’m not sure it’s changed that much.Report
The turnaround used to be about a week. That wasn’t great either, but it’s way better than three days. And of course there were far fewer voices in the conversation. The addition of more voices is good in many ways, but it also means it can be harder to pick out the ones that are worth listening to, and easier for the whole conversation to either collapse into complete incoherence or get carried away by the madness of crowds onto the wrong track (anyone who’s ever attended a meeting that had too many people in it will know what I mean).
I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Democracy simply doesn’t work. 😉Report
I imagine the quick turn around works for most albums/artists since most artists are playing to our expectations as listeners. But part of the deal with certain types of artists is that they’re playing against our expectations and in those cases, where more time is sorta required to understand what the hell they’re getting on about, a quick and accurate review doesn’t seem possible.
Trivial example: for the first day or two after watching the movie Melonchalia I was pretty convinced it was the worst movie I’d ever seen (well, Dancer in the Dark…). But by day three the “deeper theme” of the movie became apparent to me and I revised my view of it to being merely one of several of the worst movies ever. It took some time to get there tho!Report
@glyph
Well, I don’t think there is any money in it, but there is absolutely a market for long form pieces of critism for music that is over 30 days old. In fact on of the best pieces on music I have read in the last 10 or so years (basically my internet life) is right here. Basically it needs to get out of the gutter of music journalism and into the land of literature. Think a place like The Solute, where people who actually like to think about film go, as opposed to the EW and such that want to talk either about opening weeked gross or who’s dating who.
Ganted whomever is editing it would have to be ruthless to deal with the clowns that would pop up who wanted to talk about ephemeral crap. They would have to get like minded authors who agreed on an editorial esthetic and police it ruthlessly.Report
Oh, that piece is really good. Whatever happened to its author? I heard something about him going insane and speaking only in GBV lyrics.Report
I hear he’s sitting in a corner wearing a funny hat…Report
Aw thanks. But I’m pretty sure twenty-six years might be a little too LONG of a turnaround time. We’re gonna need to split that difference somehow.
Huh, that’s weird, all the individual videos got pulled from YT for copyright – but the playlist still works?Report
Look for your OT review of Tame Impala’s Currents sometime in late 2043.Report
Also, since that piece mentions them, and there’s never a bad time for this album (uh…bad words)
https://youtu.be/2D7sApxBNioReport
Funny you should mention The Godfather. It’s one of my favorite movies, and I liked it enough that I bought it well over ten years ago…and it’s still at my parents’ house in the original shrink wrap.
But I will listen to this though. Once I can get home and headphoned.Report
Since everyone seemed to love the Lamar record, I tried to give it a listen. I didn’t get the appeal, but maybe I am just old and missing something. Some of the love for the record is starting to feel like the “right” opinion to have in critical circles.
I really loved the Flying Lotus record however.Report
It’s definitely reached the point where it is the “right” opinion. When every single “Best Of” list includes it, that’s as likely a clue about the social pressure behind it as it is a clue about the actual quality of the album.
That said, my status as a Lamar fan is well established, so it’s highly unsurprising that I would be blown away by this album. I’ve basically spent the last 3 years saying “Kendrick is the greatest ever!!1!”Report
How wrong am I to prefer another of your faves — Chance the Rapper (and the band he works with) — to KL?Report
Not wrong at all. Of the new artists of the last few years, he is my second favorite after Kendrick. And his life show is one of the best I’ve ever seen. He has unbelievable energy, and his backing band (The Social Experiment, which put out an album of its own this year that features Chance heavily, and is very good) is damn good.
By the way, if you like Chance’s style, and you like Wu Tang, you might dig the album Ghostface Killah put out last year with the jazz/hip hop instrumental group Badbadnotgood, called Sour Soul.Report
I haven’t followed Flying Lotus’ more recent stuff, but I can tell you that Los Angeles was pretty darn good.Report
I found To Pimp a Butterfly good but not great. Personally, as rap albums of 2015 go, I think Vince Staples’ Summertime ’06 had it beat hands-down; it’s just as deep but way more enjoyable and accessible, IMHO.Report
I really like Summertime ’06, though it’s not even my second favorite hip hop album of the year (that would be I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside). I really liked Hell Can Wait as well.
I think he’s definitely deep, though very much a product of the world Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City created. I just think To Pimp a Butterfly is richer and more daring lyrically and musically, and much more innovative. It’s hip hop, but it’s hip hop 10 years from now. Like Good Kid, it’s almost certainly going to change the game, and the next Vince Staples won’t be making Good Kid-like albums, he or she will be making albums like this one.Report
Earl Sweatshirt, for the uninitiated (lotsa n-words):
https://youtu.be/tZ5Mu2gs-M8Report
Oh, I love me some Earl Sweatshirt, it’s actually how I came across Vince Staples. I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside is my second-favorite of 2015 as well.Report
Thanks for this. A couple-few random thoughts:
– The inaccessibility of the album that some commenters have noted is absolutely related to its blackness. As someone who grew up listening to Public Enemy and NWA, To Pimp a Butterfly is not particularly sonically or lyrically overwhelming. It is, however, unapologetically black in a way that little else is. I’m talking The Last Poets black. The music, the ad libs, the colloquialisms, the album cover, yes, it’s overwhelming. I suspect that is intentional. And this is not to say that you have to be black to get it, but it certainly helps to have a certain level of familiarity with black music and black culture in general.
– Calling this album anti-pop is right on. And that’s interesting, because Lamar isn’t exactly anti-pop. He’s not an indie rapper. He does features on lots of mainstream tracks. He even did a verse on a Taylor Swift record. Of particular note is that “i” is a mainstream record, but the album version is different. It’s live, it’s less polished, and it’s bracketed by… more blackness. I could call it heavy handed, but it works.
– If Kendrick Lamar drops two more classics, he is a legitimate contender for GOAT status. I probably listen to his “Control” verse once every two weeks. “I’m the King of New York, King of the Coast. One hand, I juggle them both.” I’m a New Yorker, but I can’t argue with that right now.
– The influence of James Brown permeates this album.Report
@j-r
You’re from NY originally? Or presently? City-Metro area or upstate? Or (gulp) Long Island?Report
The title of the Jezebel review I mentioned above is “The Overwhelming Blackness of Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly”. It includes this paragraph (forewarning, I have not edited this, so it contains the n-word):
Report
I’m a little disappointed that in a comment mentioning both PE and blackness, you had no questions for radio stations.Report
@kazzy
Born and raised in Queens. Bounced around a bit in my adult life. Was in DC for a few years (managed to make an appearance at Leaguefest ’14) and then moved back home last year, but took off again a few months ago. Now, I’m doing an expat thing on the other side of the globe.
@chris
I saw that while writing my comment. The phrase that comes to mind for me is unapologetic blackness. I don’t find it overwhelming. Although, in the context of having to churn out a review in a matter of days, I could see it being so.
@glyph
What’s interesting is that in those early days, it wasn’t just that MTV and Top 40 radio wouldn’t play rap. Black stations kept rap at an arms distance as well. Listening to Pimp a Butterfly reminds me a lot of the type of music that was on black radio stations in the late ’70s and early 80s. I guess everything comes full circle.Report
Interestingly, the “Blackness” didn’t stand out to me. I mean, I was certainly aware of it, but it didn’t strike me one way or another. Maybe that is a function of having spent much of my life immersed in or at least adjacent to various elements of “Black culture”. Though it is also probably related to the way I listen to music.
If the Blackness of the album did indeed limit critics’ ability to engage with it, it makes me wonder if those people should be the ones reviewing rap albums.Report
If the Blackness of the album did indeed limit critics’ ability to engage with it
Since it, seriously, is the crit-consensus album of the year, I doubt it.
It also raises the question, what would an album (that wasn’t Skrewdriver) that was overhelmingly concerned with “Whiteness” look like? A parody, like Weird Al’s “Amish Paradise”? Your average pop-country record?Report
I suppose one way of describing the reason for my distaste for both mainstream country (though there are a handful of country songs on the 2015 playlist embedded here) and mainstream rock is that it they are overwhelmingly white.Report
Perhaps. Though, as Chris mentions above, there is often a “right opinion” to have. And I think that phenomenon can be exacerbated when certain elements of Black (and other non-white cultures) become fetishized. Liking Kendrick Lamar can be a way of signaling that an otherwise painfully white music critic is not so painfully white.
We sort of got into this during the Hip Hop Symposium when we were discussing it behind the scenes and there was a clear divide between what you and Chris — who are what I’d call music aficionados — preferred and what me — a general fan — preferred. It sort of dovetails with the high art/low art discussion, with the (potentially) odd dynamic wherein KL is more popular among whites than Blacks.
Hmmm… I don’t think I’m explaining this well…Report
I think you are explaining it fine. Above, I embedded that Freestyle Fellowship album. At the time, me and my friends listened to it a lot, and when I listened to it yesterday, it still sounds good to me; the way the samples are done is creative and funky (and woven together with a lot of good live playing too), and (again, to me, someone with not a ton of hip-hop knowledge) the MC’s seem to be playing off one another really well.
BUT it, and many of the sort of jazz-inflected albums that came out around the same time, are also derided by many people as “backpacker” (essentially, “hipster”) hip-hop. See this hilarious review:
http://www.unkut.com/2013/08/that-shit-i-dont-like-freestyle-fellowship-innercity-griots/
Or this article – on the one hand, the album is rubbing shoulders with some giants. On the other, the list itself is geared towards people who have little to no knowledge of the genre.
So does that mean they are awesome, or does that mean they are watered down and easily-digestible to outsiders? I mean, they got an A- in Entertainment Weekly, so you KNOW they’re street:
http://www.dailycal.org/2012/09/19/goin-off/
AND YET, the whole reason I brought it up, is that it was name-checked in the piece Chris linked, as an obvious precursor to what KL is doing; that is, it is unapologetically, “black”.
So, which is it? Too “white”, or too “black”?
And at the end of the day, doesn’t that feel like a dumb question?Report
I’ll confess to not knowing how valid or valuable the question is. But I will say it is interesting.
What happens — what does it mean — if the “Blackest” hip-hop music is more appealing to white aficionados than Black fans? I don’t know, frankly.
At the same time, there may be some real selection bias here. I don’t really read any music writing except what y’all offer here. So maybe KL is held in similarly high — if not higher — regard among Black aficionados and I’m just not listening to them.
But I’m more curious — and what I was attempting to comment on — were the white listeners who ONLY go for the “high art” hip hop. Who will listen to KL and no one else. I think that is an interesting phenomenon… though again I’m not sure what it means.
Lastly, I think liking KL gives certain white folks in certain circles “cred”… hence the high regard for an album that makes little sense to them.
Note: I’m not ‘accusing’ anyone here of being any of these sorts of listeners… not that there would be anything wrong with being one of these sorts of listeners either. I’m just spit balling about the interesting racial dynamics that surround hip-hop.
Me? I listen to it because A) it was the most prominent musical genre of my formative years and B) I went to a mostly Black high school, making it even more prominent. But I didn’t know who half the dudes were that y’all were talking about way back when. And I thoroughly enjoy Drake. So what do I know?
ETA: That last point kind of brings it home for me… there are a lot of “high art” people who would decry Drake as not a “real rapper” in the form of KL. And yet most rap fans like Drake… how else do you explain both his popularity and ubiquity?Report
I get the impression that his popularity is pretty much universal among hip hop fan types. It’s certainly true that white liberal music snobs want you to know that they love Kendrick Lamar, but it’s also not a for nothing that every hip hop artist at every level wants Kendrick to do a verse on one of their tracks, despite the fact that they know going in that he’s going to murder them on their own songs.Report
Yea, I get that. I think this is where my explanation is failing. EVERYONE likes KL. But te white liberal music snob ONLY likes KL whereas the masses like him and Drake and Wayne and Hova and Pac and ma$e. Okay, maybe not Ma$e.Report
Ah, yeah.
And definitely not Ma$e.
Every time R. gets ahold of my phone she puts a Drake or Lil Wayne station on my Pandora account. I consider this a sort of musical warfare.Report
R and I need to hang out. We can curate a playlist for you! I’ve got a station that almost exclusively plays Jay, Kanye, Drake, and Wayne (or collabs of those four). It is PERFECT.Report
She will be in New York again in March.Report
You coming up with her???Report
I still remember when “Control” dropped and all the people KL name checked responded with, “Well, yea, he’s right.” Including Big Sean!
Circling back to my initial point, I guess I’m wondering why all these critics celebrated it? Did they enjoy it? Did they recognize its potential impact? Were they seeking the “right” opinion?
They sure as hell don’t owe me an explanation. I’m firmly in the “Your tastes are your own!” camp. I’m just curious about a subset of critics who seemingly lack the context to understand the album celebrating it for its meaning.Report
I suspect there are many reasons. Everyone else is doing it. It gives me liberal non-racist cred. It’s just an incredibly fucking good album. Or some combination of the three.Report
By the way, this list might get at some of that. Complex is mostly geared toward a black audience, and many (most?) of its writers are black. Notice that To Pimp a Butterfly is still number one, but look for the hip hop album that on “white,” or perhaps better stated, mainstream publications, is almost always the #2 hip hop album of the year, Summertime ’06. Here it’s 31st overall, making it 12th among hip hop albums, behind Lamar and these (only some of which show up on the “white” lists):
Ty Dolla $Sign Free TC
Mac Miller GO:OD AM
Earl Sweatshirt I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside
The Game Documentary 2
Lupe Fiasco Tetsuo and Youth
Drake If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late
A$AP Rocky At.LongLast.A$AP
Big Sean Dark Sky Paradise
Rae Sremmurd Sremmlife
Future DS 2
By the way, Future remains one of the most fun shows I’ve ever been to.Report
Again, though, I’m not sure how much of that is a black/white thing, and how much of it is a “musical subculture” thing.
It’s a pretty well-known phenomenon that one (MAYBE two) metal records will usually place very highly on P4k’s year-end list – Maybe it’ll be Deafheaven (who I liked musically, but couldn’t get past the vocals) or Mastodon or something. But no more than two.
And the “true” metalheads, though they might like those bands (and they will likely place somewhere on metal best-lists too), will sneer about “hipster metal” and “tokenism” and wonder why the more representative popular metalhead choices didn’t make it.Report
That’s part of it, though the mainstream pubs have a lot of hip hop this year. It’s the ordering that’s different, and in particular, Staples doesn’t seem to be nearly as high in hip hop-focused pubs as he is in mainstream ones.Report
@glyph
I’m confused… in this situation, which list is the “hipster” list and which is the “true” list?Report
Depends on where you sit, right? 😉
What I meant was that the metal fans will complain that Deafheaven sold out to appeal to hipster scum like Pitchfork, or that Pitchfork are engaging in metal tokenism or posing. And who knows, maybe that’s true.
But from another perspective, Pitchfork readers are just causal fans – it’s the metal true fans who are being sniffingly dismissive of any metal band that would make Pitchfork’s list.
Everybody’s a snob and nobody is. Nobody’s a poser and everybody is.
And this is why I’m probably not cut out to be a critic, when the critical conversation gets heavily focused on who likes what and why, rather than the what.Report
if the “Blackest” hip-hop music is more appealing to white aficionados than Black fans
There was an interview with…I can’t remember. Either Chuck D or Ice Cube, probably, I’ll have to see if I can find it. Anyway, they were talking about how they had noticed that when white music fans went looking for rap, they wanted the “hardest”, most uncompromising/extreme stuff, the most “gangsta” of the gangsta stuff.
Is that seeking “cred”, or is it looking for the strongest possible examples? You want the strong stuff, yeah? Moonshine, not lite beer.
You see this also in things like Fat Possum Records, who in the ’90s went looking for all these old, near-unknown hardscrabble juke-joint Missisippi black bluesmen like RL Burnside and Junior Kimbrough – hard men who’d lived hard lives, not some Eric Clapton wannabe.
Speaking for myself, most of the hip-hop I know is from the eighties and early nineties, with even a lot of gaps there, and I will fully admit to being a tourist. Rock-related stuff is far and away the bulk of my listening/collection, followed by electronic stuff, with hip-hop coming in a very distant third to those (and I buy almost nothing new in hip-hop; the last few records I bought were classics I missed the first time around).
But I am a tourist in a lot of genres (notably metal, for example) – my time is limited, so unless it’s a genre that I really, really love, I’m probably not going to “waste” time listening to anything there but the consensus critical cream of the crop.
A true metalhead is going to listen to almost anything as long as it’s metal – I mean, that is an exaggeration, but certain quirks or flaws that would make a record or artist a non-starter for me, will be overlooked or even enjoyed by them.
This doesn’t mean that they are being non-discriminating, at least not in a bad way – I’m the same way with a lot of ’80s/90s alt/indie/underground stuff, where the second- and third-string artists may still have something interesting to offer me; a feeling that is valuable to me, despite the flaws.
And the metalhead, should he dip his toes in my pool, would probably just stick to the A-listers; and why not?Report
I realize we differ here, and I respect your view, but personally I think it’s pathetic for anyone to like a type of music because of how it makes them look to others.
I know there are some unavoidable representational aspects to music. If I were to share some albums I like, I’d probably leave a few off the list that I felt wouldn’t reflect well on me, but as much as possible, I think one should like an artist’s music because they actually like the music.Report
We know from years of research that people use music to both learn about others’ personality and to express their own. It’s no wonder that people consciously choose the music they share to project an image. While you and I might just be a little bit selective with what we share from what we like (though see the Spotify playlist; it ain’t selective), some people will inevitably use music to project inauthentic images of themselves: who they want to be, or at least who they want to be seen as, but are not.Report
You do, however, project something about yourself by identifying your heroes.
If Kendrick Lamar is a hero to you, then that may not be diagnostic of who you are, but it probably is diagnostic of something about Lamar which you admire, diagnostic of something that you at least aspire to be.Report
Interesting point, @vikram-bath . I’m not sure we disagree though? I mean, I think “posing” — which is the umbrella under which I’d put the behavior I described — is annoying and lame… but I don’t think it is wrong in any sort of meaningful way beyond that.
Oh… and I like Nickleback and am not afraid to admit it.
@chris
“We know from years of research that people use music to both learn about others’ personality and to express their own.”
This interests me. What research? How was it done?
What does it mean if I listen to music that makes me want to shake my ass while I drive the car?Report
“Oh… and I like Nickleback and am not afraid to admit it.”
one must follow one’s bliss. and one’s bliss is someone else’s nightmare.Report
OK, I guess we do agree then.
Though now I want to ask: Is there nothing wrong with being annoying and lame? When the context at issue is what music you like, I think there are relatively few ways in which your tastes can be Morally Wrong.Report
I’ll see if I can write something about the research. Lots of good stuff on music and psychology.Report
There is a bit of a paradox here in that there is black and then there is black. By one set of measures French Montana might be the blackest rapper of 2015. Montana didn’t release an album in 2015. He rarely raps. Half of the dudes on his label are in jail or dead and he was, maybe still is, a suspect in the death. And oh yeah, he was dating a Kardashian. To a certain extent, that’s what hot in these streets right now.
I’m being a bit facetious, but only to make the distinction between what I’m talking about above and the blackness of To Pimp a Butterfly. The latter is self-consciously so. And that may be one of the biggest differences between the things that fans like and the things that critics like. Critics love meta.
As @chris points out, Kendrick Lamar is a bit of a unicorn. He’s got street cred. He’s got critical acclaim. He’s got commercial success. And he’s respected by other MCs. To Pimp a Butterfly is not an album that makes a rapper great; it’s an album that someone gets to make after already being in the great rapper conversation. The Beatles wouldn’t be the Beatles if they skipped A Hard Day’s Night and went straight to Sgt Pepper’s.
And that reminds me that as much acclaim as …Butterfly and Good Kidd… get, Section 80 is one hell of an album. The first verse of “Ronald Reagan Era,” is what takes you from XXL’s freshman class to everyone in the game wanting your features. “Welcome to vigilante. 80s so don’t you ask me/ I’m hungry. My body’s antsy. I rip through your fuckin’ pantry… You ain’t heard nothin’ harder since Daddy Kane/ Take it in vain. Vicodins couldn’t ease the pain/ Lightening bolts hit your body; you thought it rained.”Report
So if KL’s debut, never-been-heard-by-anyone-outside-his-personal-circle album was “Pimp A Butterfly”… how would it have been received?
Or what if Ma$e… or Nelly… or someone like that made the album, exactly as it exists now?Report
Counterfactuals are hard. Who knows? Maybe someone could drop a debut like …Butterfly and have it be as commercially successful and critically acclaimed as it was, but i doubt it.
For shits and giggles I went and read Pitchfork’s review of Section.80, Kendrick’s first album. They liked it, but what strikes me is the extent to which they want to corral Kendrick into the indie rapper pen:
Hindsight is 20/20 and I won’t fault the writer for not being able to predict in which direction Lamar’s career would go. And Lamar did come up with a crew that calls themselves Black Hippy, but Black Hippy ain’t Souls of Mischief. And Kendrick Lamar is not Childish Gambino.
In short, I see a whole lot of projection going on in that Pitchfork article. It reminds me of the David Lee Roth quip about why music journalists liked Elvis Costello. The author is smuggling the idea that Kendrick is too thoughtful to lump in with the regular rappers, which is… if I were the kind of guy who used the word problematic, I’d probably use it here.
To bring this back to the original question, part of the current phenomenon that is Kendrick Lamar right now is critical acclaim, but that’s just one part. The bigger part is that fans of the music and other rappers consider him to be one of the best doing it right now and that comes by virtue of everything that came before … Butterfly.Report
Not that I’m deep into the music scene, but when I see this tendency to shoehorn artists — rappers in particular — into a legacy they may or may not have interest in being a part of, it feels lazy.
Why compare KL to Dre? Because they grew up in the same part of the country? That’s lame.
If I were to talk to a music critic and was told I don’t really get/enjoy KL, I’d probably be criticized. Which feels annoying. Especially because I bet that guy *NEVER* recorded a Ma$e song of the radio onto a cassette tape.Report
In fairness to the author of that review, the L.A.-Dre connection is just part of the business reality of hip hop, and Lamar is a very West Coast rapper. Your boy YG included the line “only one that made it out the West without Dre” in a track in 2014, well after Lamar was household name in hip hop, and he wasn’t completely full of it.Report
Beyond business reality, it is kind of one job of criticism, in a way, to place artists, art and events into a narrative continuum.
Not that this can’t be lazy or a crutch, but doing so accomplishes two things: one, it prevents the artist from pretending, as many would love to, that they are completely sui generis (can’t tell you how many times I had to roll my eyes at Interpol claiming that Joy Division wasn’t a big deal to them – dude, you’re actually quoting lyrics!)
Two, we kind of need these narratives, in the same way we need to believe there are objective qualities there, and some art can in fact be “better” than other art (paging Sam) – without it, what we are left with is, “some people did some stuff, some other people did some other stuff, and I liked some of it.” That’s not satisfying, because it’s not how humans treat history or life; we’re storytellers, and we need narratives to make sense of reality – even if those narratives are spurious or highly-suspect.Report
There is a weird parallel in sports where young/up-and-coming athletes will almost always been compared to prior athletes of the same race… and sometimes of the same country of origin.
Why does every mobile Black QB get compared to Vick or Cunningham? Why is it never Young or Elway or Tarkentan?
Every Dominican player gets Vlad or Pedro or Manny or Ortiz… never Rod Carew or Griffey.
It’s lazy. But beyond that, it is problematic because these comparisons can dictate a guy’s career arc.
It isn’t the same thing… ballplayers may be influenced by their predecessors and idols (who may skew towards those who they identify with), but not to the degree that an artist is often a continuation of prior work.
I don’t know enough about music to say which comparisons are apt and which are not. My objection to the quote there was less the link to Dre and more highlighting the lack-of-link to his hometown’s musical legacy (at least at the time). It’s not a huge issue but it is ultimately one of those things where we allow narrative to drive our response to things instead of evaluating them on their merits.Report
Yeah, I think that’s what j r was getting at, and I think you’re both right, though of course The Pharcyde are from L.A. as well, and are part of a distinct alt-rap West Coast tradition (as opposed to the East Coast version exemplified by, say, A Tribe Called Quest).Report
For clarification, I do not fault that writer for trying to place Kendrick within some specific rap vein. When he references the thoughtful and introspective nature of Kendrick’s lyrics as a reason to place him in the alt/indie rap tradition, however, that implies that the other rap tradition is neither thoughtful nor introspective.Report