Yet Lamar is ultimately stronger when he sails solo. Other collaborations see a pitch-perfect power play with Snoop Dogg (Institutionalized), a dreamy encounter with Ron Isley (How Much A Dollar Cost), Pharrell bringing some horn-driven, head-nodding positivity to the table (Alright), and an intricate rap from North Carolina’s under-sung Rapsody (Complexion) that idly imagines Idris Elba as the next James Bond. His intention to blow minds from the outset is signalled by Wesley’s Theory, a sampled snatch of Boris Gardener crooning “Every nigger is a star” peeling into a mind-bending Flying Lotus jam. And just as Lamar continues to bend complicated lyrical cadences with rare grace, the accompany music, chiefly supplied by his loyal Digi+Phonics crew, is urgent, free-wheeling and manically off-map, oscillating wildly between loose free-form jazz, Parliament-indebted funk and languid soul. “Lamar continues to bend complicated lyrical cadences with rare grace.”įrom its title’s arch play on Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, to its vivid cover concept – Lamar and friends in a swaggering victory tableau across the White House lawn – To Pimp A Butterfly attempts to the tackle the issues of the day without recourse to blunt, shallow sloganeering. If much of that album dealt with familiar west coast bread and circuses, its hotly anticipated sequel is timely, haunted by the recent police killings of Eric Garner and Michael Brown (in Staten Island and Ferguson respectively) and ratcheting social unease. Marrying autobiographical intensity with dazzling lyrical virtuosity and elastic double-time flows, he proved himself one of the most vocally creative and thoughtful rappers of his generation.
The Compton boy wonder’s good kid, m.A.A.d city was a jittery, head-turning epic that took the observational skills of Illmatic-era Nas and applied them to the stresses and strains of his neighbourhood – the cradle of gangsta rap.
KENDRICK LAMAR'S MAJOR label debut instantly placed him in a rarefied position.