Kendrick Lamar Shares His Catharsis On ‘To Pimp a Butterfly’

The last time we heard from Kendrick Lamar was back in 2012 with the release of his first major label album, ‘good kid, and m.A.A.d. city.’  A labor of love dedicated to a youth spent in Compton, CA garnered Lamar dozens of industry accolades and sold over a million copies, taking his first venture platinum, and a rarity for a rap album. Heavy lies the crown, something Kendrick Lamar has been burdened with, but clearly motivated by. His follow up, ‘To Pimp a Butterfly’ came as a surprise being released over a week early without word. The second time around, Lamar has proven himself capable of delivering even heavier, more personal work. ‘To Pimp a Butterfly’ concerns itself with ethics and community responsibility, black resilience, and Lamar’s own internal struggles with self-doubt.  The work is a much needed and much more brazened approach to relaying raw messages of change, something Kendrick does not exempt himself from, but welcomes being a part of this.

It is difficult pinning down exactly what this album is. Opening with ‘Wesley’s Theory,’ a funk fused, soul anthem that cleverly samples Boris Gardiner‘s 1973 Every N***** is a Star, as Lamar feverishly raps over the words of another legend. The integration of speeches and poetic lyrics begins here, and continues throughout the record; as if Lamar is leaving behind auditory footnotes and references to a time past for listeners to take note. This effectively shows where he is coming from at the same time as he is showing where we are and where he would like to go. We continue on onto ‛For Free’ (interlude), instead of rapping, Kendrick makes the decision to experiment with a more spoken word style of expression. He is disgruntled, as if he has finally reached his breaking point, “Like I never made ends meet eatin’ your leftovers and raw meat.” Commenting on the minimal support many receive from a society that still expects to them to prosper. Kendrick’s concerns are invested in his local area, while also being inherently personal as well. ‛For Free’ is a perfect example of Lamar’s love of narrative stories, and effective use of verse as opposed to chorus to relay a message.

An ode to days past, ‛King Kunta’ is a non-stop funk jam a la James Brown, not as lyrically dense as the remainder of the album, but just as powerful while retaining a smooth quality. It as if Lamar is in an argument but trying desperately to keep his cool and the tension created by this restraint is what makes the track exciting. The first few tracks are kept together by elements of neo-soul, jazz and funk softening the direct quality of the lyricism, a much-appreciated decision. Snoop Dog makes an appearance on the preceding track, ‛Institutionalized.’ It will remind fans of Kendrick’s earlier work; he does what he does best and plays a character. Lamar shows his reluctance to fully relish this new world, and the difficult decision to retreat away in disgust of the opulence. Accented by organs, and Snoop’s verses, the collaboration proves to be a fruitful one. ‘These Walls’ evokes a 1970’s style public service announcement, but with the same lyrical power as the remainder of the album. ‛u’ is a bold and jarringly honest reflection on Kendrick’s own mistakes. His frustration is palpable, he repeats “Loving you is complicated,” ten times at the beginning of the song to show his repentance. The sharp saxophones carry the melody of the Pharrell Williams produced track, and this is accented perfectly by Kendrick’s aching and crackled voice. In reference to the recent national happenings involving police surveillance, ‘Alright’ is a more upbeat track, the line “They hate us, we gonna be alright” sums up the song to a T, touching on the theme of resilience shared with many of the other songs.

‘For Sale’ comes in the middle of the album, a slowed down, electronic based breather. Setting us up to be ready for, ‘Momma’, the moodier second half packs a punch. It is here Kendrick comes home, to reveal to his mother and community all he has learned and seen on his time out of his home territory. This is continued in, ‘Hood Politics’ until we reach the heavy hitter, ‘How Much a Dollar Cost’ where Lamar tells the story of his dismissal of a begging man who in the song’s final moments reveals himself to be God. A great example of Lamar’s own admission of being an imperfect purveyor of change. ’Complexion (A Zulu Love)’ gives listeners a rare opportunity to hear female rapper Rapsody spit a verse on another’s track.

By far the most aggressive and confrontational track on the album, ‘The Blacker The Berry’ Lamar lets loose by relentlessly firing off verse after verse about police brutality and the systematic racism causing so much harm.  He asks, “You hate me, don’t you?” and we hear a wounded Kendrick shamelessly owning his heritage and everything that comes with it. “The Blacker the Berry,” is used as a means to call attention to the structures in place that have spread the idea that black lives are worth less than others, “It’s evident that I’m irrelevant to society / That’s what you’re telling me, penitentiary would only hire me.”

The last three tracks perfectly round out the album. ‘You Ain’t Gotta Lie’ tones down the anger of the previous track by relaying messages of being prideful of your own skin and not changing for others who would judge you. ‛I’ opens with an announcer calling Lamar onto a stage, presumably at a rally. Sampling the Isley Brother’s soul song ‘Who’s That Lady,’ the mood of both the song and the album itself are lifted. The light at the end of the tunnel, he discusses days living through days of frustration and believing that your dreams can become realities. The chorus repeats, “I love myself,” as Kendrick calls out to the audience. He reminds the audience to keep moving forward, and it sounds as if he’s coming back home to share the wisdom he has seen. The song then ends with a speech and heartbreakingly powerful acapella freestyle rap. He calls out to the crowd, “How many have we lost? This year alone, we don’t have time to waste time.” One of the most effective calls to action we’ve ever heard in song. Reminiscent of 1960’s protests, without the dazzle of production, the song is direct and delivers its raw message with a punch.  The final, 12 minute closing track, ‘Mortal Man’ takes the listener for a final ride. The track imagines a discussion of wealth, religion, and the future between Lamar and the late Tupac Shakur. “As I lead this army, make room for mistakes and depression.” Kendrick Lamar knows he is not perfect, and does not claim to be the best face of this movement, but the importance of this album lies in this admittance. His ability to speak on experience’s that are at the same time personal and communal, in a way that probes discussion and thought is where the album’s true power lies.

From top to bottom ‘To Pimp a Butterfly’ is a commentary on the state of racial affairs in the United States.  Lyrically complex, eye-opening, and down right beautiful. Kendrick Lamar left no stone unturned in this examination of himself, his country, and the experiences felt by so many of his peers. A message portrayed perfectly just by looking at the album art; we see black youth holding money, taking down a suited man, and celebrating their victory in front of the White House. The oppressed taking the world back without fear, holding was has exploited so many. This album is about knowing who you are, how you got there and the catharsis of expression. Kendrick expresses personal tribulations in a very public and relatable way, which is what makes the album a must for anyone interested in hearing a different side to American rap music. Kendrick has cemented his role as being one of, if not the most progressive and insightful player in the game today. ‘To Pimp a Butterfly’ is heartbreaking because it’s honest, and it serves as a marker in Lamar’s career as well as a challenge to his peers to put out equally thought provoking work, we hope they take it on.

To Pimp a Butterfly’ by Kendrick Lamar is available on iTunes now.