Saturday, December 26, 2020

Kendrick Lamar (b. June 17, 1987): Outstanding, versatile, and innovative composer, rapper, arranger, ensemble leader, producer, and teacher



SOUND PROJECTIONS

 



AN ONLINE QUARTERLY MUSIC MAGAZINE

 



EDITOR:  KOFI NATAMBU

 



WINTER, 2020

 

 

 

VOLUME NINE    NUMBER TWO

B.B. KING 

  

Featuring the Musics and Aesthetic Visions of:


BRANDEE YOUNGER

(October 31-November 6)


CHRIS DAVE

(November 7-13)


MATANA ROBERTS 

(November 14-20)


NATE SMITH 

(November 21-27)


T.J. ANDERSON, JR. 

(November 28--December 4)


KEYON HARROLD

(December 5-11)


NICOLE MITCHELL

(December 12-18)


OLLY WILSON

(December 19-25)


KENDRICK LAMAR

(December 26-January 1)


JONATHAN BAILEY HOLLAND 

(January 2-8)


WENDELL LOGAN

(January 9-15)

 

DONAL FOX

(January 16-22)

 

https://www.allmusic.com/artist/kendrick-lamar-mn0002709646/biography 

 

Kendrick Lamar 

(b. June 17, 1987)

Artist Biography by

Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City  

Indisputably the most acclaimed rap artist of his generation, Kendrick Lamar is one of those rare MCs who has achieved critical and commercial success while earning the respect and support of those who inspired him. After several years of development, Lamar hit his creative and chart-topping stride in the 2010s. Good Kid, M.A.A.D City (2012), the Grammy-winning To Pimp a Butterfly (2015), and the Grammy- and Pulitzer Prize-winning DAMN. (2017), his three proper major-label albums, have displayed an unmatched mix of inventive wordplay and compelling conceptual narratives, examining internal conflict, flaunting success, and uplifting his community. The screenplay-level detail of Lamar's writing has been enriched by a collective of producers, instrumentalists, singers, and rappers, a high percentage of whom -- including inspirations Dr. Dre and MC Eiht, and contemporaries Sounwave and Jay Rock -- represent Lamar's native Los Angeles. Lamar's cinematic and collaborative inclinations inevitably attracted the mainstream film industry. Black Panther: The Album (2018) was the source of three of Lamar's Top Ten pop hits.

Compton, California native Kendrick Lamar Duckworth grew up immersed in hip-hop culture and surrounded by gang activity. As a youngster, he gradually discovered an aptitude for writing stories, poems, and lyrics, which naturally led to rapping. He made a name for himself as K. Dot. At the age of 16 in 2003, he issued his debut mixtape, The Hub City Threat: Minor of the Year. While it merely hinted at the potential of the then teenager, it was impressive enough to catch the attention of Top Dawg Entertainment and led to a long-term association with the label that steadily propelled his career. Training Day, the Jay Rock collaboration No Sleep 'til NYC, and C4, issued from 2005 through 2009, likewise preceded Lamar's decision to go by his first and middle names. The last of the three was issued the same year he became part of Black Hippy, a group whose members -- including fellow TDE artists Ab-Soul, Jay Rock, and ScHoolboy Q -- frequently appeared on one another's mixtapes and albums.

Section.80  

The first tape credited to Kendrick Lamar was Overly Dedicated, released in September 2010. Also the rapper's first commercial release, it reached enough listeners to enter Billboard's R&B/Hip-Hop Albums chart. After XXL magazine selected him for the 2011 Freshman Class feature, Lamar released his first official album, Section.80, that July, and crossed into the Billboard 200, reaching number 113. With deeper conceptual narratives and sharpened melodic hooks, as well as comparative multi-dimensional development from primary producer Sounwave, the set acted as a kind of warning flare for Lamar's mainstream rap dominance. In addition to the dozens of tracks he had appeared on by then, Lamar had the support of veteran West Coast stars as well. During a concert later in 2011, Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, and Game dubbed him "The New King of the West Coast," a notion Dre endorsed more significantly by signing Lamar to his Interscope-affiliated Aftermath label.

Good Kid, M.A.A.D City, Lamar's major-label debut, was released in October 2012 and entered the Billboard 200 at number two. Three of its singles -- "Swimming Pools (Drank)," "Poetic Justice," and "Bitch Don't Kill My Vibe" -- reached the Top Ten of Billboard's Hot R&B/Hip-Hop chart and went Top 40 pop. More significantly, the album showcased Lamar as an exceptional storyteller capable of making compelling concept albums. It led to Grammy nominations in four categories: Best New Artist, Album of the Year, Best Rap Album, and Best Rap/Sung Collaboration (for "Now or Never," a deluxe edition bonus cut featuring Mary J. Blige). Miguel's "How Many Drinks?" and A$AP Rocky's "Fuckin' Problems," two tracks on which Lamar made guest appearances, were nominated as well.

untitled unmastered.  

Rather than rest, Lamar remained active during 2013-2014, touring as well as appearing on tracks by the likes of Tame Impala, YG, and fellow Top Dawg affiliate SZA. The proud single "i" was released in September of the latter year, became Lamar's fourth Top 40 single, and won Grammys for Best Rap Performance and Best Rap Song. Still rolling, he announced in early 2015 that his third album, To Pimp a Butterfly, would be out in March with tracks featuring Snoop Dogg, Bilal, Thundercat, and George Clinton. A technical error caused the digital version to be released eight days early, but the LP nonetheless topped the Billboard 200 with sales of 325,000 copies within its first week. It made numerous best-of lists at the end of the year and won the Grammy for Best Rap Album. The defiant and life-affirming "Alright," which was quickly adopted by the Black Lives Matter activist movement, along with another single, "These Walls," took awards for Best Rap Performance, Best Rap Song, and Best Rap/Sung Collaboration. Riding high on his wins and a striking Grammy ceremony performance, Lamar followed up in March 2016 with untitled unmastered., consisting of demos recorded during the previous three years. Like the previous release, it debuted at number one, and seamlessly synthesized beatmaking and traditional musicianship from the likes of Sounwave, Terrace Martin, and Thundercat. Within a month, Lamar added to his ever-lengthening discography of featured appearances with his contribution to Beyoncé's "Freedom."

Led by "HUMBLE.," his first number one pop hit, DAMN. arrived in April 2017 and likewise entered the Billboard 200 at the top. Remarkably, all 14 of its songs entered the Hot 100, and it was certified multi-platinum within three months. Among the contributors were Rihanna and U2, but at this point, the supporting roles were beneficial more for the guest artists than they were for Lamar, whose artistic clout was unrivaled. Lamar snagged five more Grammys. DAMN. won Best Rap Album. "HUMBLE." took Best Rap Performance, Best Rap Song, and Best Video. Best Rap/Sung Performance went to "LOYALTY," the Rihanna collaboration. Another number one hit followed in February 2018. The soundtrack Black Panther: The Album featured Lamar on every track. "All the Stars" (with SZA), "King's Dead" (with Jay Rock and Future) and "Pray for Me" (with the Weeknd), its three singles, eventually hit the Top Ten. That April, DAMN. won the Pulitzer Prize for Music. It was the first time the judges recognized a work outside the genres of classical and jazz. Months later, "King's Dead" made Lamar a 13-time Grammy winner. The track took the award for Best Rap Performance. "All the Stars" alone was nominated in four categories, while Black Panther was up for Album of the Year. The film itself was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Picture. 

https://www.npr.org/2020/04/07/828115972/kendrick-lamar-thinks-like-a-jazz-musician  

Kendrick Lamar Thinks Like A Jazz Musician

https://www.npr.org/embedded-video

Don't see this video? Click here.

In our new series on the art of sampling, hip-hop producers demonstrate how they find inspiration in classics, hidden gems, found sounds and other raw musical materials to create new hits. For each of the five videos in the series, NPR Music has asked a writer we love to do something similar. Their only instruction was to watch one of the videos, pick an element that inspired them, and spin it off in a new direction — to sample it.

Today, writer Marcus J. Moore, the author of the forthcoming book The Butterfly Effect: How Kendrick Lamar Ignited the Soul of Black America, looks at Lamar's relationship with contemporary and historical jazz musicians. Lamar's song "DUCKWORTH." is made up of three beats by producer 9th Wonder (the subject of today's video) that are each built around a different sample from a different genre and different generation.

For certain older jazz heads thinking of their beloved genre, the image that comes to mind is of custom Italian suits and smoke billowing through cramped clubs. There's likely a guy with an instrument in the foreground, behind him is another guy keeping pace on a drum kit. For some jazz listeners, the music should've stayed here — stuck somewhere between the 1940s and '50s, before Miles Davis plugged in his trumpet, and before John Coltrane blew his sax to summon God. To them, pianist Herbie Hancock should've left funk to hippies like Sly Stone, and saxophonist Pharoah Sanders needed to cool it with the "elephant shrieks." 

    It's not just jazz purists who resist change; across all genres, the struggle between tradition and the future has been unfolding in regular, repeating cycles. '90s hip-hop is considered the "golden era," when lyricists like Nas, Snoop Doggy Dogg and Jay-Z came of age, and rap after that isn't seen as comparable. There's this notion that "the music died after us," and those flare-ups arise when some younger rapper doesn't know Biggie lyrics, or he thinks rap began with the Lil's and Yung's. At every turn in music, there are people who resist change, but you can't bend culture by playing it safe.

    So it's not that jazz purists didn't want the music to evolve, it's that the new thing was quite different from the old — less reverent, less familiar, beholden to a new set of rules or priorities. Albums like Davis' Bitches Brew and Hancock's Head Hunters blended jazz with rock and funk, paving the way for future anarchists like trumpeter Roy Hargrove and pianist Robert Glasper to work at the points where jazz met conscious hip-hop, neo-soul, and alt-rock. They ascended at a time when jazz wasn't so popular in mainstream music: Traces of it could be heard in the early work of The Roots, and in sampled form on records by A Tribe Called Quest and Digable Planets. But as pop and hip-hop grew in demand, jazz faded from mainstream public view.

    That was until 2015, when rap superstar Kendrick Lamar brought new light to a hybrid of jazz and rap that had been happening underground. His second major-label album, To Pimp a Butterfly, was an expansive collage of hip-hop, funk and soul, with jazz firmly affixed to the center. That was due to Kendrick and Terrace Martin, a producer and multi-instrumentalist who studied under jazz great Reggie Andrews at Locke High School in South Los Angeles. Martin had been a go-to guy for Kendrick and his label, Top Dawg Entertainment, since the mid-2000s, and for To Pimp a Butterfly, he tapped into his network of jazz musicians in L.A. and beyond to add brass, live bass and keys to a wide-ranging palette of beats from the likes of Pharrell, Sounwave and Flying Lotus. The goal, trombonist Ryan Porter once told me, was to dilute the 808 drums for a lush soundscape. With musicians like Porter, Glasper, saxophonist Kamasi Washington, trumpeter Josef Leimberg and bassist Stephen "Thundercat" Bruner in the mix, Butterfly is easily Kendrick's most sonically ambitious album, and the one fans have the toughest time digesting, especially when compared with good kid, m.A.A.d. city's cinematic sheen and DAMN.'s club-ready bravado.

    I've spoken with many of Kendrick's collaborators, and they all say the same thing: He's a jazz musician in rapper's clothing, whether or not the music is shaped by musicians who are classically trained in that genre. Just ask Martin. "He was like, 'Man, a lot of the chords that you pick are jazz-influenced. You don't understand: You a jazz musician by default,'" Kendrick once told producer Rick Rubin for GQ. "And that just opened me up. And he just started breaking down everything, the science, going back to Miles, Herbie Hancock." Glasper, in an interview for my book about Kendrick, doubled down. "Kendrick had so much respect from everybody," he told me. "He spoke to the jazz cats, to the music nerds, to the backpack rappers, the gangsters. That's the real 'hip-hop meets jazz' right there. That was something I was already doing in my world, but for Kendrick to do it, it changed everything."

    On the surface, DAMN. isn't knitted to the jazz world the way Butterfly was, but Kendrick is no different than Miles, Coltrane and Herbie before him: though he's rooted in rap, he pushes his art to unforeseen places, bending the culture to what he's doing. Like those icons, Kendrick has an innate sense of timing and space, giving his words the same weight that they gave their notes. On certain tracks, like the hard-charging "DNA." and "HUMBLE.," he'll suffocate the music with rapid-fire rhymes; on "FEEL." and "LUST.," he'll slide up and down the register to convey the right emotion for different sections of the beat. He knows when to surge forward and when to let it breathe. As a result, Kendrick is introducing jazz to a generation who might only know it through their parents' old record collections. Listeners might not realize he's doing this when they listen to an album like DAMN., even if they heard jazz more overtly on his previous LP. Like the legends before him, Kendrick challenged preconceived notions of what jazz is supposed to be, moving it beyond those who'd rather the genre stay in small clubs with cigarettes and martinis.

    Where Butterfly was rooted in hard bop, DAMN. seemed steeped in the late '60s and early '70s, when jazz was murkier and more psychedelic. Equally complex and ambitious, DAMN. is more palatable than Butterfly, but no less vibrant. For some, the fact that it wasn't as musically complicated somehow counted against DAMN., but vestiges of the past are still there — in the bluesy saunter of "FEAR." and the acoustic soul of "FEEL." But it's on album closer "DUCKWORTH.," produced by 9th Wonder, that the elements of jazz, hip-hop and soul come into the sharpest focus. 9th has a history of blending records from all genres into kaleidoscopic sets of deep soul and hip-hop. Each track has its own distinctive flair, but you can still tell it's a 9th Wonder beat — the drums lock into a hypnotic groove and the vocal samples crack with nostalgic beauty. "DUCKWORTH." mashes three beats into a tight coil of repurposed folk, progressive rock and experimental soul, on which Kendrick details a chance encounter between his father, Kenny Duckworth, and his future label boss, Anthony "Top Dawg" Tiffith. Years before "Top Dawg" became a music mogul, he walked into a Kentucky Fried Chicken and saw Kendrick's future father working there. "Top" was planning to rob the restaurant and stood in Kenny's line to demand the cash. But Kenny had seen "Top" rob and shoot up the store before, so to spare his own life, he gave him free chicken and two extra biscuits to get on his good side. "You take two strangers and put 'em in random predicaments," Kendrick rapped. "Whoever thought the greatest rapper would be from coincidence?"

    Originally titled "Life Is Like A Box Of Chicken," it was actually Kendrick's idea to combine these three distinct beats from 9th Wonder into one shapeshifting whole. In December 2015, 9th played 20 beats for Kendrick; he didn't find out until the following June that the rapper had stitched his music together in such a manner. "... He sent me a video snippet of him playing an mp3 off his computer," 9th told The Recording Academy in 2018. "It was a 9-second clip that played right when the beat changed. After it was over, I hit him back saying, 'Yo man, what the hell?' and he put 'LOL' and that was it." A story like this exemplifies what Martin, Glasper and others have said about Kendrick — that while he'll propose strange ideas, he's accrued such a level of genius that you have to let the vision unfold. He's a musician's musician, with a keen awareness of what sounds good in the moment, and he doesn't get enough credit as a producer. Sure, it's 9th Wonder's name on the beats, but Kendrick molded them to match his own expansive vision, essentially making a new instrumental framework to reflect the story of his own life. What Kendrick did is no different than what a bandleader does.

    This, in essence, is jazz — the art of improvising, a high-wire act between like-minds without a safety net beneath it. Be it music, fine art or creative writing, it's essential to trek the road less traveled, to present work the public doesn't know it needs until it arrives. Now it isn't so risky to release a jazz album — artists like Thundercat and Kamasi command big space on the marquee, and labels like International Anthem and Astral Spirits are go-to places for avant-garde music created by those who aren't wedded entirely to specific jazz scenes. Through sonic ingenuity and fluid storytelling, "DUCKWORTH." is the high-water mark of Kendrick's Pulitzer Prize-winning album and the arguable centerpiece of his unique rap-jazz aesthetic. He's at the vanguard of this movement, proving that he too is a rule breaker, just like Miles, Herbie, Coltrane, Glasper and Hargove, who all took bold creative risks to push jazz into uncharted territory.

https://www.udiscovermusic.com/stories/to-pimp-a-butterfly-kendrick-lamar-album/

Features

‘To Pimp A Butterfly’: How Kendrick Looked Back To Push Music Forward

A dazzling album that defined black America both musically and lyrically, ‘To Pimp A Butterfly’ is a visionary album that will resonate for decades to come.

by


Kendrick Lamar To Pimp A Butterfly album cover web optimised 820

The critical and commercial success of Kendrick Lamar’s second album, 2012’s Good Kid, MAAD City, totally changed the Compton rapper’s life. He had gone from a respected artist with a decent-sized, devoted fanbase to an award-winning, multi-platinum writer considered by some to be the voice of his generation. The album was a nuanced, multi-faceted account of Lamar’s upbringing in Compton, its vivid vignettes on gang violence, institutional racism, street politics, costly mistakes and dead-end disillusionment the stuff of gritty Hollywood fare. And it came in the shape of thrilling, straight-shooting West Coast hip-hop, with Lamar’s dexterous wordplay and nimble approach to voicings elevating it to another level. Three years later, then, when To Pimp A Butterfly was finally ready for release, expectations were extremely high.

Listen to To Pimp A Butterfly right now.

The first taste of Good Kid…’s follow-up was released in September 2014 in the shape of the Isley Brothers-sampling ‘i’. An upbeat slice of radio-friendly funky hip-hop, it preached a positive message of self-love and celebrated individuality, but seemed perhaps lighter than many had expected. When To Pimp A Butterfly was released on 15 March 2015, the song was an intrinsic part of the sprawling narrative Lamar unfurled. Now sounding tougher and more vital than before, it included a speech from Kendrick mourning the effects of gang violence and urging black communities to celebrate themselves.

It showed fans there was no second-guessing Kendrick – especially not in a musical sense. To Pimp A Butterfly sounded unlike anything Lamar had done before: a genre-busting jubilee in honour of the funkiest, freshest and most out-there elements of African-American music. He assembled a crack band of the most exciting jazz musicians of the day, installing saxophone colossus Kamasi Washington as musical director.

It was as if Lamar sought a music that could tell the story of black America as vividly as he would in his lyrics; a music that was as free-flowing and supple as his verses. And this wasn’t some fusty, old-fashioned take on jazz. The most forward-thinking jazz musicians of recent times have had hip-hop coursing through their veins, as Washington has said: “We’ve grown up alongside rappers and DJs, we’ve heard this music all our life. We are as fluent in J Dilla and Dr Dre as we are in Mingus and Coltrane.”

Among a plethora of gifted musicians at Lamar’s disposal were pianist Robert Glasper, the producer/horn player Terrace Martin, guitarist Marlon Williams and bass virtuoso Thundercat – all incredibly versatile players, as adept at turning their hand to the deep funk of ‘King Kunta’ as they were to the chaotic free jazz excursions of ‘u’, or the lush, Prince-like slow jam of ‘These Walls’.

Lamar’s narrative was just as ambitious. It’s an intense exploration of big themes: exploitation, living up to responsibilities, the importance of staying true to yourself, finding strength in the face of adversity. Over the course of To Pimp A Butterfly he tells the story of a rapper finding fame; learning how to “pimp” his talent for material gain; dealing with the temptations that accompany fame and wealth; feeling the burden of his new position of influence; turning to black history and his roots to try to find guidance; dealing with a kind of survivor’s guilt after leaving his people; and eventually finding the self-belief and wisdom to share with his community. 


But the album is nowhere near as tidy and linear as that sounds. As complicated as the subject demands, To Pimp A Butterfly’s songs are crammed with deep dives into US history, and just about every lyric has the listener conflicted as to the narrator’s motive (and, sometimes, even the identity of the narrator).

All of this would be worth little if the album didn’t communicate all of its ideas effectively. Somehow, however, To Pimp A Butterfly does that brilliantly. A thrilling, genuinely affecting and often awe-inspiring ride through Lamar’s psyche, it resonated with enough people for its influence to be felt everywhere: the hope-filled ‘Alright’ was adopted as the unofficial anthem of the Black Lives Matter movement; there were stories of teachers playing the album to students to help them better understand the oppression faced by African-Americans; listening to it influenced David Bowie to move in a jazz-inspired direction on his final album, ★.

With To Pimp A Butterfly, Kendrick Lamar delivered on expectations and then some. It remains a visionary, landmark album that will resonate for generations to come.

To Pimp A Butterfly can be bought here.

https://www.vanityfair.com/style/2018/06/kendrick-lamar-cover-story

Cover Story
August 2018

The Gospel According to Kendrick Lamar

Pulitzer Prize–winning “poet laureate of hip-hop” Kendrick Lamar has made history with his music. As Compton’s favorite son headlines this summer’s blockbuster Top Dawg Entertainment tour, he grants an intimate look at what drives him.
Kendrick Lamar photographed onstage at Jones Beach Theater in Wantagh New York May 30.
Kendrick Lamar, photographed onstage at Jones Beach Theater, in Wantagh, New York, May 30.Photograph by Annie Leibovitz.
Kendrick Lamar understands and employs blues, jazz, and soul in his music, which makes it startling. His work is more than merely brilliant; it is magic.—TONI MORRISON
It takes guts, courage, and skill to shoulder the burden of a generation’s mind-set. Culturally, Kendrick Lamar is that compass—in fact, a GPS—in this current Hour of Chaos. That enough is worth a Pulitzer Prize or any award that sets the bar high.—CHUCK D
 
I love everything about his music. I can literally listen to his music and become a kid growing up with all the struggles in the inner city, but at the same time [learn] all the lessons it taught that we use as men today. If you listen to the last verse of “Black Boy Fly,” on good kid, m.A.A.d city, I know exactly what he means—because I was that kid.—LEBRON JAMES
The minute I hear good news, it just motivates me to do more. I don’t want to get complacent. If you asked seven out of ten people, ‘What would you do if you got the Pulitzer Prize?,’ they’d say, ‘I’d put my feet up.’ But that would make me feel I’d reached my pinnacle at 30 years old, and that wouldn’t make me feel good.—KENDRICK LAMAR

Memorial day, Peter Luger Steak House, Brooklyn: Kendrick Lamar orders salmon. He is wearing a black baseball cap, white t-shirt, and gray-and-blue pants, and I’m seated to his right at an upstairs table for 10. To my right is Kendrick’s TDE (Top Dawg Entertainment) label-mate, rapper, and friend Jay Rock, and the rest of our lunch party is comprised of friends and associates of Kendrick’s: Dave Free, his friend since ninth grade, manager, co-director of their groundbreaking videos, and TDE president; Dave’s assistant, Keaton Smith; Kendrick’s assistant Derrick McCall; photographer/videographer Chris Parsons; head of TDE security 2Teez; TDE general manager ret One; and publicist Ray Alba. Except for Kendrick’s fish choice, everyone else orders cheeseburgers and steak—medium rare. Platters of French fries and creamed spinach are brought to the table. Despite people sitting at tables all around us, we are left alone. Kendrick, who has a reputation as enigmatic and shy, warms up as we talk about music, basketball, government, taxes, other rappers, and awards. I tell them that LeBron James wore a TDE t-shirt at practice the day before—prior to Game 7 of the Eastern Conference finals. We talk about Madison Square Garden, where, the following night, Kendrick will perform his first sold-out headlining show at the world’s most famous arena as part of the 30-date TDE Championship tour, with a lineup of the label’s artists. We talk about the changes in Harlem, the changes in Brooklyn, and how New York is no longer the city that never sleeps. There is a wide-ranging conversation about the music Kendrick grew up listening to in Compton, California: the Temptations (he was named for lead singer Eddie Kendricks), Curtis Mayfield, Marvin Gaye, Michael Jackson, and gangsta rap—and I answer queries about my interviews of yesteryear. I tell Kendrick to forget about the three times he was nominated for the best-album Grammy and didn’t win (although I didn’t say it quite so politely) and congratulate him on winning the Pulitzer Prize—the first for a non-classical or non-jazz musician, and the first for a rapper. Kendrick always appears to be thinking, or listening, until he breaks into a gap-toothed grin, or a laugh. These guys know each other well—especially Dave and Kendrick, who finish each other’s sentences—and the vernacular is unfiltered, rooted in hip-hop and the streets of Compton.

Kendrick Lamar photographed in the Bronx. Lamar wears a hoodie by Reigning Champ Tshirt by HM jewelry by Chrome Hearts...

Lamar, photographed in the Bronx. Lamar wears a hoodie by Reigning Champ; T-shirt by H&M; jewelry by Chrome Hearts; hair products by R+Co; grooming products by Chanel. Photograph by Annie Leibovitz.

Following lunch, we all get into a Mercedes Sprinter, stopping at a pop-up store on Hudson Street in Manhattan that sells a clothing collaboration between TDE and Nike (with whom Kendrick also has a shoe deal). Then we head uptown to an East Side hotel, where he and I sit and talk for over an hour.

In addition to winning this year’s Pulitzer Prize for music, Kendrick Lamar has sold more than 17.8 million albums, been nominated for 29 Grammys, and won 12. His work is archived in the library at Harvard University. He’s been described as the poet laureate of hip-hop, perceptive, philosophical, unapologetic, fearless, and an innovative storyteller whose body of work has been compared to James Joyce and James Baldwin. He’s collaborated with—among many others—Jay Z, Eminem, Dr. Dre, BeyoncĂ©, Rihanna, Bono, Pharrell Williams, Jay Rock, and Maroon 5. He writes about being young, black, poor, and gifted in America with a candid self-awareness of who he is, where he’s from, and where he’s been. Musician/producer Pharrell (who worked with Kendrick on the songs “good kid” and “Alright”) had told me, “He’s the Bob Dylan, the Miles Davis of our time, but he’s his own thing. His ability to entertain while educating, without ever being preachy, is amazing.” I ask Kendrick how he balances his enormous success and celebrity with his extreme work ethic. “You can get put in an environment that can bring down your integrity and your fight,” he says. “What gives me an advantage in my upbringing is the duality of seeing one of the most beautiful moments of me being 6 years old, to the most tragic moment of being 13 or 14, and make that connection so the person [listening] can really see the conflict. It was a mindfuck, for sure. I would wake up one morning, and it would be cartoons and cereal and walking back from school. And at 4 P.M., we’d be having a house party ‘til 11 P.M. . .. and people [were] shooting each other outside the door. That was my lifestyle. And it’s not only mine; it’s so many other individuals’. And I wanted to tell that story.”

By the end of listening to his first full album, I felt like I knew everything about him. He brings you into his world with his lyrics in a way that really paints a clear picture.—EMINEM

Among other individuals to whom his story resonates are the NBA basketball players who grew up either in Compton or similar Los Angeles neighborhoods. According to Orlando Magic forward Arron Afflalo—name-checked in Kendrick’s song “Black Boy Fly” (“I used to be jealous of Arron Afflalo”)—“If you’re in Compton, with all that negativity and violence, and you know you have the talent that Kendrick obviously has, and you watch someone that’s successful, I don’t think ‘jealous’ is a negative word. It’s something that made him hungry; he knew what he could become.” Toronto Raptors’ All-Star DeMar DeRozan, who grew up near Kendrick, says, “Everything he raps about is what we had to overcome and grow through,” and Oklahoma City Thunder All-Star point guard Russell Westbrook adds, “He grew up in the same neighborhoods I grew up in, and to see him be able to explain the struggles of his upbringing through his music is inspirational; he’s opening people’s eyes to what people go through in the inner city.”

Kendrick Lamar before the Jones Beach show.

Lamar before the Jones Beach show

Photograph by Annie Leibovitz.
Jay Rock producer Hykeem Carter and security director 2Teez backstage.

Jay Rock, producer Hykeem Carter, and security director 2Teez backstage.Photograph by Annie Leibovitz.

Kendrick Lamar Duckworth was born in Compton 31 years ago to Paula Oliver and Kenny Duckworth and is the oldest of four siblings. He started freestyling around the age of eight, when, he tells me, he mostly rapped about drugs. But by the time he was 16, under the name K.Dot (his closest friends still call him Dot), he got serious about music. “I was recording in Dave [Free]’s garage,” he tells me, “and Dave said he had to get my music to Top [Anthony “Top Dawg” Tiffith], who was getting into the music business. The first day in the [vocal] booth, Top said, ‘Let me see if this is really you,’ and I was just freestyling, rapping whatever came into my head, sweating for two hours.” Dave Free said, “The first time I ever heard him rap, I had to listen back because it was so developed, super-complex, and I just couldn’t believe it, since he was so young.” (After Kendrick’s early E.P.’s and mixtapes, Dave told him that it was time for him to drop the K.Dot and use his real name.) And Top, now the head of TDE, who described himself then as “a local street dude who was trying to change his life for the better,” adds, “What impressed me was how advanced Kendrick was at 16 years old. He spoke from an adult perspective every time he touched the mic. Over the course of 15 years, I’ve watched him evolve from a kid on the corner breaking down street tales to a creative genius breaking down cultural barriers.”

Kendrick tells me that most of the kids he knew from elementary school are either dead or in jail. But, he says, he was more grounded because he had a mother and a father in the home. “It makes a huge difference,” he says. “It shows you loyalty. When I look around at my classmates and my friends, they all lived with their grandparents. To have a mother and a father in your household—this showed me immediately that anything is possible.” On his major label debut, good kid, m.A.A.d city, both his parents are heard on answering-machine tapes, and their language is tough, uninhibited. His mother, after yelling at him to bring back her van, then turns tender and says, “I love you, Kendrick,” and tells him to take this music thing seriously, be a positive person, and come back and tell your stories to your city. She adds that his music better be something that she and his father “can step to, because we from Chicago and that’s what we do.”

For a gentle dude, he throws a righteous punch; I wouldn’t get in the way of it. No single artist will ever be the antidote to a generation’s malaise, but just identifying some of the problems really helps.—BONO

Kendrick tells me his parents were young when they left Chicago with just $500 and wound up in a Compton hotel. “Mom had to go to McDonald’s to get hired [there]; my father had to find friends, and it was a whole gang culture. . .. They were learning, and they did the best they could do as far as protecting me. But they loved to indulge in that fast lifestyle . . . the partying and everything that comes with it. My mother encouraged me to dream—she was very proud of my efforts. My third-grade teacher came up to my mother once at a parent-teacher meeting and she said, ‘Your son used a word that I was totally amazed by—he said audacity.’ Even then, it gave me an advantage in life, to be able to take information, listen to it, and take a perspective without judging it and do my own research. The duality was that my father was more like ‘OK, good, now do it again.’ There never was a super-embrace—and it gave me an understanding of being critiqued. Almost like ‘I know you can do it better, so I’m not gonna show you how great you are already.’ It was a manipulation that worked in my favor later in life; by the time I was being critiqued, there was nothing you could tell me, because I know it’s not my best anyway.” I ask if growing up he had read a lot of books. “I read the dictionary,” he said.

We talk about the violence he sings and raps about in good kid, m.A.A.d city, and Kendrick says, “That was our world. I remember when good kidcame out, the people I grew up with couldn’t understand how we made that translate through music. They literally cried tears of joy when they listened to it—because these are people who have been shunned out of society. But I know the kinds of hearts they have; they’re great individuals. And for me to tell my story, which is their story as well, they feel that someone has compassion for us, someone does see us further than just killers or drug dealers. We were just kids.” I ask about the line that implies he shot someone at 16, and he just looks at me, smiles, and eventually says, “I’ll put it this way: I’ve seen my own blood shed, and I’ve been the cause of other people shedding their blood as well. There was a split second when I felt what my homeboys were feeling—like I don’t give a fuck anymore—and that’s when I knew something else had to happen.” Among the “something else” in his life: two baptisms, the first at 16 and “again in my 20s—just for that reassurance and belief in God.”

Paul Rosenberg, Eminem’s manager and the chairman and C.E.O. of Def Jam Recordings, was the first to bring Kendrick’s music to Dr. Dre, who signed him to his Aftermath label in a joint deal with TDE. “Kendrick is an extremely prolific and cerebral rapper,” says Rosenberg. “Every word is so well placed, so thought out, so meaningful—there’s no dead space.” And Dr. Dre told me, “The thing that turned me on the most was when I watched a video of him talking about his music and the passion he had in his voice about the art. You just knew this guy was destined for greatness.” Producer Rick Rubin says, “Kendrick is one of the best of all time—making modern and challenging new music.” He adds, “He exists on another plane.”

In addition to Kendrick’s extraordinary talent as a writer, rapper, and producer, he has an ear for melody, and an ability to assume different voices on his songs—which he tells me he got from listening to Prince and the music he heard at his parents’ house parties. He also packs so many words and syllables into one bar of a song without ever stopping for breath. And through his music, he’s taken on the role of spokesman for a neighborhood that goes way beyond Compton. I ask him, Why you? “I put that responsibility on myself. I knew from jump that I thought a little bit different, people respected me, and if I let myself down, I’d be letting my guys down. Fast-forward to 2018, I’m in a position where these guys have 10, 15, 20 years in prison, but I can go in there—and I do—and tell them that when they get out, you have a job. And my word stands.”

I ask him about the guns in his Piru (aka Bloods) neighborhood in Compton, and he says, “I have compassion for, and more understanding rather than frustration with my homies, because I know it’s not 100 percent their fault. When I look at how society has shaped our communities, it’s been generations passed down of putting people in cages to battle each other.” He talks about the survivor’s guilt that is a recurring theme in his songs, and says, “I had three or four years of success and celebrity, but I can’t get rid of the 20 years of being with my homies, and knowing what they go through. I can’t throw that away. I know a lot of people who could—I’ve seen it—like ‘Fuck you, I’ve got money now, I’m outta here, I don’t give a fuck about none of y’all.’ But that was something I couldn’t deal with. I had to sit back and analyze it and [figure out] other ways I could impact these people without physically trying to bring the whole hood inside a hotel.”

Kendrick Lamar in a 1985 Buick LeSabre outside the New York Expo Center in the Bronx. Lamar wears a hoodie by Saint...

Lamar in a 1985 Buick LeSabre outside the New York Expo Center, in the Bronx. Lamar wears a hoodie by Saint Laurent by Anthony Vaccarello. Photograph by Annie Leibovitz.

During a solo set at the Hangout Festival in Alabama this past May, Kendrick brought a white female fan onstage to sing “m.A.A.d city” with him, as he’s done at many of his concerts. White people usually know to move the mic away from their mouths when it gets to the parts with the n-word. She didn’t, and he stopped the show and called her on it. He and I discuss the ubiquitous use of that word in rap—with the aat the end of it—and the implicit understanding of who can say it and who cannot. I mention that many rappers have told me that they feel they have appropriated that word, and taken it back. But Oprah once told Jay Z in an interview that when she hears it, even with an a at the end, she thinks of a lynching. Kendrick is thoughtful for a long minute, then he says, “Let me put it to you in its simplest form. I’ve been on this earth for 30 years, and there’s been so many things a Caucasian person said I couldn’t do. Get good credit. Buy a house in an urban city. So many things—’you can’t do that’—whether it’s from afar or close up. So if I say this is my word, let me have this one word, please let me have that word.”

I ask Kendrick about how he writes. “ ‘Execution’ is my favorite word,” he says. “I spend 80 percent of my time thinking about how I’m going to execute, and that might be a whole year of constantly jotting down ideas, figuring out how I’m going to convey these words to a person to connect to it. What is this word that means this, how did it get here and why did it go there and how can I bring it back there? Then, the lyrics are easy.” I ask him how he delivers so many syllables and words in one line, with no wasted words and juxtapositions like “Halle Berry/Hallelujah” or a play on words like “Demo-crips and Re-blood-licans” or “I got power/poison/pain and joy inside my DNA.” “It comes from my love of hip-hop. Eminem is probably one of the best wordsmiths ever,” Kendrick says. “There’s a whole list of why, but just bending words. . . . The Marshall Mathers LP changed my life.” (Eminem returns the compliment, saying, “He switches up his flow every few bars so it’s more interesting to listen to.”) Kendrick adds, “My other favorite word is ‘discipline.’ Discipline gives me all my unvarnished strength and makes me curious about how disciplined I can be.”

The following day, we’re backstage at Madison Square Garden prior to that night’s show. Top is here, wearing a red TDE cap. SZA, the only female on the TDE label, is determined to perform despite vocal-cord problems that forced her to cancel some tour dates. She says about Kendrick, “He’s really committed. He takes his natural aptitude and jacks that shit up to like 50,000. For you to be that naturally talented already and still want to be better is weird, inspiring, and beautiful.”

Kendrick Lamar at the Jones Beach show.

Lamar at the Jones Beach show. Photograph by Annie Leibovitz.

In a small room adjacent to Kendrick’s larger, dimly lit dressing room, he and I talk some more. I tell him it’s hard to imagine that, with his skill for such rapid-fire rapping, he stuttered as a kid, and he says he got over it by “just not being in fear of constantly talking to people—that’s what my mother told me.” He describes himself as “introverted” rather than shy, and says, “I like to be alone a lot. I need that. It’s that duality: I can go in front of a crowd of 100,000 people and express myself, then go back, be alone, and collect my thoughts all over again.” I note that after his opening set on Kanye West’s 2013 Yeezus tour, he seemed to have flipped a switch and was a different guy—way more energized and confident as a performer. “I think it was after my trip to South Africa,” he says. “It gave me a feeling of awareness and pride, a feeling of where I belong.” One of his lyrics is about how to be rich and black in America and not “act a fool,” and he says, “We’ve got to get to the root of never having these things. I look back to when I was 16 years old and thought, What would I do with a million dollars? I’m gonna buy this, I’m gonna buy that . . . Then I thought that me doing that is actually hurting people I’m responsible for. I’m the first in my family to have this kind of success, so I took it upon myself to wisely navigate this success, because I wanted them to be successful, too.”

I tell him that Chuck D once told me that in the 1980s, “We was broke, but we wasn’t broken,” and Kendrick says, “I love that. I felt that for sure. Because the times we had to wait for food stamps every month, or we’d run out of food and had to wait for welfare to kick in, or walk to the County building—it wasn’t about the County building; it was about the walk to the building. Because if we didn’t have that County building to walk to, I wouldn’t have built that bond with my mother, or my father, to see that this is a family. What Chuck D says resonates so much with me, because we were broke, but we had us.” I ask him if he wants to start a family and he says, “This is the constant question, because I’m obsessed with my craft and what I’m doing. I know what I’m chasing for my life, even though I don’t know what it is. But it’s an urge that’s in my every day. That urge to make an ultimate connection with words to man. And I don’t feel I’ve done that yet.”

We talk about the soundtrack he curated and produced for the blockbuster film Black Panther, and we discuss what’s involved in an Oscar campaign, should “All the Stars”—his song with SZA from that soundtrack—be nominated. (“That would be crazy,” says SZA about a possible Oscar nomination, “but that’s everything that Dot does.”) Kendrick says that the TDE Championship tour—the lineup at the Garden included Sir, Ab-Soul, Isaiah Rashad, Jay Rock, Schoolboy Q, SZA, and Kendrick—has always been a dream: “To have our own tour, our own artists,” he says. “The model was Motown, Bad Boy, Roc-A-Fella, Def Jam, Aftermath.” Pulling up his long-sleeved t-shirt, he shows me the tattoo going all the way up his right forearm—“Hustle Like You Broke $”—which he says was something Top said: “Always have that mentality, don’t be lax.” We talk about the NFL and the national-anthem protests. He says he was a football fan, but now “I’m less enthused. It’s enraging; I think what Kap [Colin Kaepernick] is doing is honest, and it’s not just his truth, it’s our truth.”

Our talk continues to cover a variety of topics. I say that even though he lives in Malibu now (and moved his family out of Compton) he’s not showy, he’s not rapping about bling (he says his father had jewelry—he’d seen it, and it didn’t interest him), and he doesn’t boast the same way a lot of rappers do (I tell him that I love that he didn’t rhyme “Grey Poupon” with “Louis Vuitton”). Still, he calls himself “the greatest rapper alive,” and, he says, “I owned up to a lot of hours of just listening and studying and throwing thousands of pieces of paper away that were garbage. Hours of Top saying, ‘Nah, that ain’t it, you’re better than that,’ or me saying, ‘Nah, that ain’t shit.’ ” Are there enough hours in the day for him to do everything he wants to do? “That’s one of my phrases,” he says. “We need more hours! I look up, and it’s five in the morning, six in the morning, and I’m still in the studio. I need 26 . . . 27 . . . we good.”

Then, at 10:15 P.M., with a backdrop that says, “Pulitzer Kenny,” Kendrick Lamar takes the stage at the Garden for a raging 75-minute performance. Even with all of the lights, videos, lasers, and pyro, you cannot take your eyes off him as he delivers a breathtaking, joyful live set that proves he really does rap all those words without stopping for breath; a set that includes songs from his three major-label albums: good kid, m.A.A.d city, To Pimp a Butterfly, and DAMN., the album that won him the Pulitzer.

Kendrick Lamar’s work represents some of the most important music being produced today, period. He fits squarely onstage in the artistic community, like any other cutting edge, musical genius.—Dana Canedy, administrator, the Pulitzer Prizes
 
Rap is the biggest music out there, and it’s nice that it’s finally getting the recognition it deserves. For his album to make it onto that platform is great for all of us. Oh, and I’m also jealous.—Eminem

MAY 30, 2018: The Low Library, at Columbia University, in Manhattan, where the Pulitzer Prizes are handed out, isn’t very hip-hop—with the exception of the table of Kendrick’s friends and colleagues. The room has a cathedral-like domed ceiling and marble columns, and the vibe is academic. (Previously, Toni Morrison had told me that the Pulitzer “ought to shape up; their canvas is not wide enough—it’s narrow. So this means it’s wider.” And Pharrell told me that “this is the universe winking at us.”) Kendrick is wearing a blue shirt with a shiny gold pattern, tan pants, and Nike Cortez Kennys. He sits at table number one with his fiancĂ©e, Whitney Alford; Dave Free; Dana Canedy; her son and two of his friends; Gayle King; and CNN’s Don Lemon. Kendrick is clearly the star of the show—everyone is trying to take selfies with him. After the prizes are handed out, he races out with the TDE team, avoiding reporters but stopping to take photos with kids. Then it’s back into the van for the trek to Jones Beach, on Long Island, where the Championship tour will do another show. Backstage, Kendrick works out at his mobile gym—a pull-up bar and weights (he does between 500 and 1,000 push-ups a day)—and then he and I sit in a small room and talk about the Pulitzer Prize. “It was one of those things I heard about in school,” he says, “but I never thought I’d be a part of it. [When I heard I got it], I thought, to be recognized in an academic world . . . whoa, this thing really can take me above and beyond. It’s one of those things that should have happened with hip-hop a long time ago. It took a long time for people to embrace us—people outside of our community, our culture—to see this not just as vocal lyrics, but to see that this is really pain, this is really hurt, this is really true stories of our lives on wax. And now, for it to get the recognition that it deserves as a true art form, that’s not only great for myself, but it makes me feel good about hip-hop in general. Writers like Tupac, Jay Z, Rakim, Eminem, Q-Tip, Big Daddy Kane, Snoop . . . It lets me know that people are actually listening further than I expected. When I looked up at that man on the podium today, I just had countless pictures in my mind of my mother putting me in suits to go to school. Suit and tie, from the dollar store, from thrift shops, when I was a kid.” He recalls his seventh-grade teacher Mr. Inge, who turned him on to poetry: “It wasn’t a traditional English class,” he says. “It was more of an artistic exercise. He told us to ‘write something only you can understand, then pass it on to the next person.’ ” He tells me about the visit with his parents to the White House (“Obama reached out”). “My mother wore a black-and-brown dress; she made sure to wear her best.” And, he tells me, “it [took me back] to talking to my grandma, when she was alive, and I was always thinking what it would be like if we had a black president. She had some hope . . .”

Kendrick Lamar photographed in the Bronx. Lamar wears a hoodie by Reigning Champ Tshirt by HM jewelry by Chrome Hearts...

Lamar, photographed in the Bronx. Lamar wears a hoodie by Reigning Champ; T-shirt by H&M; jewelry by Chrome Hearts; hair products by R+Co; grooming products by Chanel.  Photograph by Annie Leibovitz.

And even though Kendrick has had political songs, such as “XXX” and “Alright”—which became an anthem for Black Lives Matter marches—he says he doesn’t talk much about politics because “I just get too frustrated.” I ask him how he feels about Kanye West’s statements about Trump and about slavery and, after a long pause, he says, “He has his own perspective, and he’s on this whole agree to disagree thing, and I would have this conversation with him personally if I want to.” I ask about his song “LOVE,” on DAMN., and he says, “That’s one of my first real personal love songs; it’s personal for me, but it’s a universal feeling when people listen to it.” But as for his own personal love relationship with Alford, he doesn’t talk about it, he says, because “I want something that’s just for me.”

Since he says he was confident as a kid, and he’s confident now, why were there all those self-doubts he’s written about that came in between? “I never thought about it like that,” he says. “That’s a question I’m going to ask myself tonight. Maybe it’s that fear . . . a lot of artists have a fear of success, they can’t handle it; some people need drugs to escape. For me, I need the microphone—that’s how I release it. And just figuring out a new life. Maybe thinking that I’m doing something wrong, or that I’m a little bit different or gifted. It’s the same thing as not wanting to accept compliments. Just wanting to work harder.” As for what’s next: “I don’t know,” he says. “And that’s the most fun part, the most beautiful part.” I ask him if, as he sings in “ELEMENT,” he would “die for this shit,” and he says, without a second’s hesitation, “I would.”

https://jazz.fm/kendrick-lamar-the-coltrane-of-hip-hop/

Kendrick Lamar: the Coltrane of hip-hop

This biographical article is part of JAZZ.FM 91’s supplementary research component to expand on The Journey to Jazz and Human Rights documentary podcast series. Click here to find out more.


Kendrick Lamar Duckworth was born on June 17, 1987, in Compton, Calif. His parents had moved to Compton from Chicago to escape the city’s gang culture, although Lamar’s father had been associated with the notorious Gangster Disciples gang. As the 1980s crack trade and West Coast gang presence increased, Lamar grew up around precarious street activity, but he seemed more influenced than harmed by it. He was a good student who enjoyed writing stories and poems, and eventually, lyrics.

Lamar’s family was directly touched by the violence of the streets, yet he remained thoughtful and observant. He adopted the stage name “K-Dot” and began performing his lyrics as a rapper. In 2003, at age 16, he circulated a mixtape called Youngest Head Nigga in Charge, which drew a lot of interest in his native Southern California and beyond. In 2010, Lamar switched from “K-Dot” to his own name and dropped his fourth mixtape, Overly Dedicated. That same year, Lamar released his first full-length independent album under Top Dawg Entertainment.

Lamar continued writing music and lyrics, and he toured and collaborated with more popular recording artists such as Young Jeezy, The Game, Talib Kweli, Busta Rhymes and Lil Wayne. Dr. Dre, one of hip-hop’s most respected and influential producers, took the young artist under his wing, becoming his mentor in both music and business. By 2012, Lamar’s highly anticipated major-label debut album, good kid, m.A.A.d city, was released to wide acclaim. In 2015, Lamar released his next album, To Pimp a Butterfly, featuring artists like Bilal, Snoop Dogg and Pharrell Williams. The album was another highly acclaimed outing “known for its funk-laden mix of bravura, community politics and vulnerability.” Several of the songs on the record are politically charged, commenting on the social status of Black Americans today, and keeping in tune with the Black Lives Matter movement. The album went on to receive a whopping 11 Grammy nominations. Lamar continues to compose incredible music today, with his last major album being DAMN. in 2017.


These Walls (2015)

The song These Walls by Kendrick Lamar was the fifth and final single from the album To Pimp A Butterfly. The track was written by Kendrick Lamar, Terrace Martin, Larrance Dopson, James Fauntleroy and Rose McKinney. It won best rap/sung performance at the 58th Annual Grammy Awards in 2016. The song itself delves into a variety of issues; These Walls refers to all the “walls” put up by the artists on the track. In this case, the “walls” are used as a metaphor to “connect different situations with emotions such as lust, desire, frustration and anticipation.”

‘If these walls could talk
Sex, she just want to close her eyes and sway
If you, if you, if you exercise your right to work it out
Its true, its true, its true, shout out to the birthday girls say hey
Say hey, everyone deserves a night to play
And shes plays only when you tell her no
If these walls could talk
I can feel your reign when it cries gold lives inside of you
If these walls could talk
I love it when I’m in it, I love it when I’m in it’

References:

Alexandru. “The Meaning of These Walls by Kendrick Lamar.” Lyreka, November, 2015. https://www.lyreka.com/blog/the-meaning-of-these-walls-by-kendrick-lamar.

Biography.com. “Kendrick Lamar: Biography.” January 29, 2018 

https://www.biography.com/musician/kendrick-lamar.


News

How Kendrick Lamar Transformed Into 'The John Coltrane of Hip-Hop' on 'To Pimp a Butterfly'

Ramona Rosales Kendrick Lamar photographed on Dec. 3, 2014 at Smashbox Studios in Culver City, Ca.

"If you're under a certain age, how the f--- you know what jazz is? We all got the same reissues motherf---er."

The liner notes for Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp A Butterfly might, at first glance, seem a little dense. Aside from Dr. Dre, the album’s executive producer, West Coast legend Snoop Dogg, and eternal hitmaker Pharrell Williams, most of the names are question marks for hip-hop fans. For those who follow jazz, however, the liner notes were a revelation -- Grammy Award-winning pianist Robert Glasper, prolific crossover bassist Thundercat, and critically-acclaimed trumpeter Ambrose Akinmusire are all international stars within the genre. 

Kendrick Lamar Earns His First No. 1 Album on Billboard 200 Chart

Digging deeper into the credits, the threads that connect the musicians behind Kendrick’s latest release emerge. Like the rapper, their roots lie in Compton and South Central L.A., outlining a family tree of L.A.’s mostly unsung jazz scene, simultaneously revealing how instrumental it’s been to West Coast hip-hop for decades.

Billboard spoke to four key players in this fascinating scene, revealing a shared history and mutual respect that would eventually yield the inescapably brilliant Butterfly.

On how the collaborators on To Pimp A Butterfly met:

Kamasi Washington (played saxophone and arranged and conducted the string section on TPAB): It's all family. Most of the guys that worked on Kendrick's record and on [Flying] Lotus's record [You’re Dead!], we've known each other since before we played music. 

My dad's a saxophone player -- he actually played flute [on the album] -- so that's how I started. My dad and Thundercat’s dad played together, we've known each other since we were babies. Actually I knew Thundercat before, when he was just an idea, like, “Let's have another kid” [laughs]. His brother [Ronald Bruner, also on TPAB] and I had been friends since we were two.

L.A. is like a really big little town, where New York is like a really small big city. The jazz scene is spread out, so when people come here they don't really know where it is -- but we all grew up together. We all played in Multi School Jazz Band in high school, and we all grew up in Leimert Park, playing at the World Stage and Fifth Street Dick’s. When I met Terrace [Martin], we were teenagers. 

Ambrose Akinmusire (played trumpet on TPAB): I've been friends with Terrace since I was about 16 years old. I came down to L.A. because I was thinking of going to CalArts. We had a friend in common [there]. That's the same time I met Ronald Bruner, and a lot of the L.A. cats.

Robert Glasper (played piano and keyboard on TPAB): The way I got involved was in 1996, when I was a junior in high school, I got elected for this all-star jazz band. Basically they pick 20 students from around the nation, and fly you to Vail [CO] to be in this high school supergroup. When I was there, I met Terrace Martin because he was a saxophone player. We were both like 15 years old. 

Kendrick Lamar's 'To Pimp a Butterfly': 10 Key Collaborators

Terrace Martin (produced, and played alto saxophone, horns, Vocoder, and keyboards on TPAB): I was always playing jazz, because my father's a jazz musician. Thundercat is my cousin, so we're family -- we started playing music together all at the same time, as kids in junior high school and high school.

[After high school] I just still had the desire to produce records, because my early heroes were producers. I'd been seeing Dr. Dre since I was 5 years old. My [desire] to be Sonny Stitt and [desire] to be the new Dr. Dre -- they were equal. 

At the time I didn't really feel the need to go to New York and play, because I was already playing with [jazz drummer] Billy Higgins in L.A. a lot, touring and everything. I was playing with him, and I was playing with [jazz pianist] Cedar Walton and different cats, so I mean -- shit, I grew up in New York all my f-----n life, so I was like, “I don't really want to live in New York, I'm going to stay in L.A.” I went to CalArts, and I started working with Snoop. I still played jazz, I just never put out any records. 

RG: [Terrace] moved to L.A., became a hip-hop producer, started producing for Snoop, becoming the young Dr. Dre. I'd go out there, but I'd be with Roy Hargrove and Christian McBride, playing with jazz cats. And then going out there with my own piano trio -- I'd see him, but he'd be rolling like 20 deep with a hip-hop posse, with Snoop. I'm like, “What the hell -- our worlds are so different!”

AA: [Terrace] was doing the stuff for Snoop and everything. When I moved back to L.A., he was one of the first cats I called, just about collaborating.

KW: Myself, Terrace, Thundercat -- we all musically grew up playing with Snoop and the Snoopadelics (his band). I've played on a couple of Snoop's records -- a lot of my first gigs. My first major gig actually, I think, was with Snoop.

RG: So [Terrace] is in the hip-hop world, but he started off in jazz. He has a love for jazz. I started off in the jazz world, and then I started coming over to the hip-hop world. I started my hip-hop shit playing with Bilal, in college. Then I became Mos Def's music director in like 2004 or 2005 -- whenever he used a band, he would use my band. I started doing a lot of stuff with Q-Tip, and that's when my hip-hop shit really started popping off.

Kendrick Lamar Collaborator Bilal on 'To Pimp a Butterfly': 'A Lot of This Is Kendrick's Genius'

KW: I met Lotus a long time ago -- we did the John Coltrane competition. He was there with Ravi [Coltrane] -- he was like a little kid [Flying Lotus, aka Steven Ellison, is Coltrane’s cousin]. Years later, Thundercat started working with [Lotus], and reminded me about him. Lotus and I ran into each other randomly at a jam session -- he sat in, and we connected then. He asked me if I wanted to do a record with Brainfeeder.

AA: Those guys that are on the album, they've been playing together -- they grew up together. I think it's really beautiful that they've sort of stuck with their crew.

NEXT PAGE: MEETING KENDRICK

ON MEETING KENDRICK

TM: I met Kendrick when I was fresh out of high school. We all used to work at this studio in Carson -- the cat that owned the studio also owned the label, his name was Dude Dawg [Anthony "Top Dawg" Tiffith]. He's the one that started Top Dawg Entertainment. He set up a place, just a step away from gangbanging, where all of these badass kids could do music all together. That's all of us: me, Kendrick, Jay Rock, Sounwave -- that core system right there.

I've been working with him since day one. Literally, there's not a project over there that I'm not on, because that's us. From day one, that's just what it is. 

KW: I remember when Terrace told me about Kendrick, and this was like 2009 or 2008 -- a long time ago. He was just telling me how dope this dude was. I think that's part of the reason he's such an amazing artist -- he's been in it for the long haul. He's new to a lot of people, but he's been in this for a while. 

RG: When it was time for me to do my Black Radio record [Glasper's Grammy-winning 2012 release which featured Lupe Fiasco, Yasiin Bey (Mos Def), and Erykah Badu], I had already been collaborating with different MCs. I had peeped Kendrick Lamar's Section.80 -- one of my boys played it for me, and it was so musical and so jazzy. So when it was time for my Black Radio record, I wanted to get Kendrick on it. Terrace made that connection for me.

He'd been telling Kendrick about me, and Kendrick heard some stuff and he liked it. He did a verse for me, for Black Radio. But he didn't like it, so we couldn't use it. So I have this verse in my computer that's amazing, but it wasn't up to his standards -- where he wanted it to be. 

He's a perfectionist. I had heard that already, that he was a super, duper, duper perfectionist. He was like "Yo, I want to redo my verse," but this was literally when good kid, m.A.A.d city had just come out, so he left on tour. The timing just didn't work in our favor -- I had to put the album out. 

NEXT PAGE: RECORDING TO PIMP A BUTTERFLY

RECORDING TO PIMP A BUTTERFLY

TM: [TPAB started] the last week of us doing good kid, m.A.A.d city. That last week, we already started brainstorming for this album. We started [recording] this album about six months after he came off the road from GKMC. We really locked into the album everyday, the past like... damn near year-and-a-half, every day. Like, I didn't even take other production work, or other gigs, nothing like that. 

[Thundercat] was very pivotal on this whole project, man. I'm so happy I don't have to be around that motherf---er anymore. I was with him everyday for a year and a f---ing half. He says the most crazy things ever -- but on that instrument you can feel a sincerity, a seriousness through his music. Thundercat has a special gift in that whatever song he touches -- whatever idea he touches, turns into a song. 

If he wasn't there [Dr. Dre’s studio in Santa Monica] playing, we were there eating Wokcano's together, drinking bourbon, tequila, whatever liquor there we had. This album is really a blur -- all I can tell you is we were all in the same room with good energy.

RG: When I go out to L.A., a lot of times I'll stay a few extra days to work with Terrace on stuff. I worked with him on his record 3 Chord Fold, and we just started making beats together and doing things together, because we're going to eventually form a production company.

TM: For the past three years, I've been playing heavy with Robert, so I've been back on my jazz shit. That's where my head was at. Me and Robert had been playing heavy with Thundercat, so we had kind of already been on a page. Kendrick took a liking to the page that we had been on, and was like, “You know what? Let's make that page bigger with my influences and your influences, and let's do something that we all never did.”

RG: We went into the studio to make some ideas for Kendrick's album -- this is prior to me going to the studio with Kendrick or anything. This was last year -- I was in L.A., and Terrace was like, "Let's get a band together and go in the studio, and just try to come up with some ideas for Kendrick's record." [The riff] was a little something I came up with in the studio, and we just started jamming on it. It was just something to have, and in the end it was like, "Oh, I don't think we're going to use any of it for the songs." But then they ended up tagging it on the end of "The Blacker The Berry." 

Terrace Martin on Kendrick Lamar's 'The Blacker the Berry' & Delivering a Message

KW: Terrace is the one who brought me in on the Kendrick project. I was working on stuff for one of his albums, Velvet Portraits. So I played him some of my album that's coming out, and I have a bunch of strings on my album. [Terrace] was like "Oh, snap" -- I guess a light went off in his head, because he had been working on Kendrick's record for a long time at that point. 

AA: So Terrace started working on the Kendrick album, and he kept being like, “Hey, you've gotta come by the studio and record something.” I was just like, “Yeah, whatever,” like, it's not really gonna happen. One night, I was like alright, I'm actually going to go, just to see what's going on over there. I went over, and the process was amazing. 

TM: Dr.Dre [executive producer of the album] is one of my biggest influences. I've been following him around literally since the age of five. [On To Pimp A Butterfly] we would do a lot of records, and he would come in unexpectedly, pop in at the studio. He’d get everybody on their ps and qs, play a record, and be like "Yeah, yeah, yeah, I like that -- you know what? Try adding this or adding that." Those little elements he would say to change would make a world of difference. I'm not saying that because that's Dr. Dre, I'm saying that because, that's a bad motherf---er. That man's ears are f---ing -- he's just bad, he's just -- he's Dr. Dre. And I'm proud to say I come from that N.W.A umbrella. Dr. Dre is the hip-hop Quincy.

Dr. Dre Tops Forbes' World's Highest Paid Musicians, Beats Beyoncé by $500M

KW: I came over, and they basically played the whole record for me, like three times. This was a few months ago, like end of December/January. It was trippy because the security was so tight. There was no taking that music out of the studio, so when he told me [to come in], he said I would probably have to write there.

They put me in a room, and Sounwave, Kendrick, and Terrace are just kind of sitting on the couch, looking at me. It was a little trippy. It was cool that Kendrick -- he's such a real musician, real artist -- that he was totally into it. It wasn't like I was just doing something that Terrace told me to do. Kendrick had his own ideas, and was very much involved in it. I work with other people, but they aren't necessarily always as involved -- not even close to that involved. 

[Kendrick] was literally sitting, looking at me write out charts, and kind of interacting with what I was thinking [as I worked]. I'm trying to explain like, “I'm just playing these on the piano right now, but this is actually going to be a flute, and this is actually going to be a trombone, this is going to be a cello.” He's like, "Ok, ok," and he can hear it. He's a musician. 

AA: Terrace was finishing up “King Kunta.” So they did that, and we were just talking and chilling, and it just reminded me of the way I like to record my records. Get the vibe, and just play -- and then you chop it up. They played like six or seven of the tracks, so I could get a feel of the album. I recorded on I think like four or five different songs -- they let me do whatever I wanted to do, so I just played. I think they chopped it up all over the place.

RG: With this, I was just literally in L.A., and he hit me up like, "Yo, I want you to come through to the studio, Kendrick's here, we want you to play on this song." I was in L.A. to record my new record -- the funny thing is, my whole thing now is getting away from the traditional way of playing jazz. I've been doing mixtures and, you know, trying to have my own sound. So it doesn't necessarily sound "swinging."

So I get a call to go to the studio and do this song with Kendrick. Lo and behold, it's this song called "For Free?" But it's straight-up jazz! The irony is, I go from the recording session for my album, where I'm trying not to swing and play jazz, to the most anticipated hip-hop recording session and that's the first thing I do; I'm swinging my ass off. I'm like, dammit, this is crazy. 

KW: Kendrick, he has it in him. On "For Free?", the rhythms he's creating -- when I heard that, I was like, "Oh, so Kendrick, he's been into jazz for years." I remember Terrace told me that too, that [Kendrick] had just heard A Love Supreme for the first time. Like, that's amazing. Just because the rhythms he's putting in there are just so perfect. I was like, “So what does Kendrick play, bass? Is he a trumpet player on the side?” I mean he might be and just doesn't tell anybody.

AA: That's why I'm so into Kendrick. He really is improvising -- his phrasing, just the way he feels everything. It's really amazing. I mean things repeat, but when they do repeat it's different.

RG: So originally, [“For Free?”] was the song, because it was a jazz tune. Kendrick was there, and he had never seen me play live. So just when I was warming up, he was kind of floored, like, “This dude's killing.” And Terrace is like, "Yeah, motherf---er that's what I've been telling you." So, Kendrick was like, "Yo, can you play on this song?" and pulled up another song, and I would listen to it once, and then I would just play. He was like, "Play whatever you want, play what you feel." 

He did this for nine songs. He was like, "That's crazy -- pull that song up, and that song up." Literally, for the most part, it was all one session. I went in there to play one song, and I ended up on -- that night I played on like nine songs. I think they ended up keeping six or seven...some of the shit is like interludes, and they didn't really credit the correct way. That's kind of hip-hop.

KW: That whole interview with Tupac [“Mortal Man”], first of all, I didn't know what that was going to be -- I just heard this poem and then I heard Tupac. It was so powerful. It completely blew my mind. Terrace and I -- we wanted to treat it like a movie, basically. We put one Coltrane thing on, and Kendrick just got it immediately. Like "Yeah, that's it, because it's gotta be like fire." That intense, 1960s jazz that people always associate with John Coltrane. That's what we were trying to get, because it felt like that, it felt like that time period when he came in, his energy. It just felt like the height of civil rights. 

RG: I was heading back in L.A. -- going to the Grammys actually. Terrace hit me up like, "I need you to come out now -- like, tomorrow." He said, "Kendrick is putting this song on the album that has Tupac and him, like in an interview situation. I'm writing the music for it right now, and I want you to play piano on it." So I had to change my ticket, and get out to L.A. earlier, and that's when I recorded that very last piece, that suite. I never got to hear it -- I didn't know what it sounded like until [the day the album dropped]. We just played the music, played all these different movements, without me hearing the interview or knowing what it was going to sound like.

KW: I conducted [the strings] and everything. They're all classical players, and it was intriguing to them on a musical level. These are people who play Beethoven and Bach and Prokofiev and Debussy and Ravel all day long. It just shows that hip-hop, especially where Kendrick is taking it, is definitely musically -- not just in its popularity, or in the groove, but just musically -- on a level with anything else, and everything else. Taking it further, actually, because the rhythms -- what Kendrick is doing on top of it -- is taking it to another level.

NEXT PAGE: ON KENDRICK AND JAZZ

KENDRICK AND JAZZ

TM: John Coltrane, A Love Supreme. I played that for him for a reason. For one, that's not the record you introduce someone to [jazz] with. But I did that because he's so advanced. I told him on a text -- this record we're doing right now [To Pimp A Butterfly], this feels like your fourth or fifth record. It feels like your A Love Supreme. Like when Coltrane came to grips with the true spirituality part, and started giving up the horn technicalities and became deeply into the spiritual aspect, just getting really into improvising. I feel like Kendrick does this in his music. 

He is the John Coltrane of hip-hop right now. Soft-spoken, extremely humble, and the motherf---er's always practicing. He's rapping -- while he's making eggs, that motherf---er's rapping. Like if you ask him what time it is, he's like [puts on nasal voice] "Time, time t-t-t-time." He's always focused, and he's always trying to push the envelope, just like Coltrane. 

When Coltrane was able to get Elvin Jones, and Jimmy Garrison and McCoy Tyner together, I felt Kendrick did the same thing when he said, "You know what, I'm going to get this super crew together." It's kind of like the Miles Davis concept too, where his whole album is full of leaders. But, leaders that follow him -- [TPAB] is a fine demonstration of having the biggest ego in the room be the music. All of us have our own careers, and all of us play our own instruments, but we came with a common goal: to make sure he was satisfied and that the music would be there.

RG: He loves the music -- you can tell when you hear Section.80. You can tell when you hear GKMC. That's the great thing about Kendrick Lamar -- he balances everything out so well. When you want the gangster, there's the gangster in there. There's the backpack [rap] sound. There's the jazz sound. No matter what kind of music you like, you can kind of listen to this record and there's something about it you'll like. If you like soul, R&B, hip-hop, east coast hip-hop, there's a bunch of stuff in there. He's been able to like balance that -- and be on top at the same time. Not be the artsy guy that everybody kind of likes, but is on the low, like under-appreciated. He's like, on top. 

TM: The deep shit about this is I've been praying for like 10 years that an artist [like Kendrick] will really look at cats like me and Robert and Thundercat, and put our music on a platform that the world can really embrace. I think it's entirely special that somebody like Kendrick, an MC, really fell in love with this whole jazz thing and really wants to help push jazz a bit further, and stay on his square with his hip-hop, and just do world music like that. 

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RG: I applaud him for not giving in and just getting the obvious people that the industry thinks you should have on your album. Not going out and being like, you gotta have Nicki Minaj as a guest, you gotta have Rihanna. Because these people are on top. Kendrick is on top, so he can say who he thinks should be on top. He can say who's cool, and he chose to say Bilal. He chose to say Lalah [Hathaway]. He chose to say Rapsody. Thundercat. Myself. 

TM: [Kendrick] just texted me -- his texts are like how he raps. Like, "Yo." You're like, "Hey, what's up?" He's like, "I wanna hear some more jazz. Canyougetmesomemorejazzpleaserightnow?" 

So I'll send him the links to some more jazz. I just sent him some Miles Davis -- you know, the whole Bitches Brew shit. Right now I'm giving him a lot of the popular things that he can pull from, that have a lot of information [about them] online. Once I get him through that, then my next step is to give him like the esoteric shit. More different [stuff], like Bill Evans Trio records, Lonnie Smith records, early Herbie [Hancock] shit. We gonna keep digging. 

Just like we did with jazz, we did with Sly Stone too, we did with all the gangster shit, we did with Jay Z, we did with Count Basie -- like, we dig. 

Kendrick Lamar's 'To Pimp A Butterfly' Challenges and Rewards: Album Review

AA: Terrace is a real dude though. He's one of the few guys out there who really knows jazz, and knows hip-hop, and knows the business, and can really sort of bring in the two worlds together. He's kind of the leader of that, in my opinion -- just being on the jazz side and having friends in the hip-hop world. He's one of the few cats that understands how to communicate with both sides. 

It was a big thing that he asked me to do it. They didn't really need me to do it -- anybody could have really done that -- but I think he knew that it was important to have me there, and for it to be a jazz collaboration.

NEXT PAGE: JAZZ AND HIP-HOP

JAZZ AND HIP-HOP

TM: I think after this album right here, people will be like "It's ok to do that kind of shit [jazz and hip-hop] on an album.” People used to say that there's too much music or the sax is too soft or there's too many chords -- a lot of people used to say that to me. It was hard getting work for a certain amount of time, for me, because I've always had this same jazzy musical style. F---ing punks. Now look at them. I told y'all motherf---ers to let me play the horn.

RG: I wouldn't say it's a trend, because I don't see many other people doing it. The band thing was already kind of here, and then left, and now it's kind of coming back. I think it's something that maybe used to trend, and is now coming back.

KW: Music is all connected -- we put different labels on it but hip-hop, in a way, already is jazz. Like funk is jazz and jazz is funk, jazz is hip-hop. It's all the same thing. If you really can hear it, it doesn't matter if you have a message behind it -- you'll understand it. 

Especially American music, especially African-American music -- it's really one thing. It's just a very wide thing, so we take labels to kind of compartmentalize it. It's just like back in the day -- all your favorite Marvin Gaye records and James Brown records, jazz musicians are playing on.

AA: I really do think that jazz and hip-hop are not like each other, they are the same thing. So, it's kind of an oxymoron to me when you say jazz/hip-hop collaboration. If you really look at [jazz in] the '70s, with the electronics and stuff like that, I think hip-hop picked up right where that left off. I think that's the natural progression of jazz, and I think this album proves that. 

TM: To me, if you're doing that, you are definitely up under the [A] Tribe Called Quest umbrella. That's a big influence to us too. We just wanted to pay homage, and just put another pump in that so the new kids can have something to reference. The mentality in jazz is each one teach one, so we want to bring that into hip-hop, and into all other forms of music. The easiest way to do that is through music.

I fell in love with the saxophone by listening to A Tribe Called Quest, Midnight Marauders and The Low End Theory. I think that is the importance of hip-hop and jazz -- they're both closely related, and once you hear jazz, you always want to look something up, like "Let me look up who played this song," or "Let me look up more jazz." I think it helps people really want to dig in and learn more about what they're listening to. 

Jazz people can be pretty close-minded. Like when Robert [Glasper] first came out, a lot of the other jazz cats were like "Oh, that's not jazz." I'm like, if you're under a certain age, how the f--- you know what jazz is? We all got the same reissues motherf---er. Stupid ass. If you under 50, we all got the same motherf---in reissues, and you ain't seen Charlie Parker play, punk, so it don't matter.

KW: Even a lot of people who are fans of music might not be familiar with jazz. [The thing is] they are actually, and just don't realize that like, the elements of Robert Glasper [for example] are in J Dilla, and A Tribe Called Quest. They're in there, and you like that -- so many of the samples you hear, and so many of the things that people gravitate towards, are jazz. You just didn't know it was jazz because it was called something else. 

Kamasi Washington's album The Epic will be released May 5. Robert Glasper's album Covered will be released June 16, and his most recent release Black Radio 2 is available on iTunes. Terrace Martin's album Velvet Portraits is slated for release this spring. Ambrose Akinmusire's most recent album the imagined savior is far easier to paint is available on iTunes.

Meet The Musicians On Kendrick Lamar’s New Album

The composers, producers, and session players that brought To Pimp A Butterfly to life.

March 16, 2015
The Fader

Before parsing the script on Kendrick Lamar's latest record—released by surprise last night—you have to dig into the score. To Pimp A Butterfly is the major-label actualization of a jazz scene that's been fostering in Los Angeles for years, with young inspired composers reimagining Miles, Coltrane, and Sun Ra in a post-rap world. Lamar tapped a spread of keyboardists, arrangers, and specialists to give the album a sense of living, breathing momentum, with songs pivoting mid-movement and ebbing in and out of interludes. While names like Boi-1da and Pharrell barely squeeze in a credit, these are the players that have shaped the record's forward-leaning sound.

 
Matthew Eisman/Getty Images
Thundercat"Heartbreaks + Setbacks"

If there's anyone making L.A.'s prog-R&B beat scene palatable to the kids at the cool table, it's Thundercat. Since his Brainfeeder debut in 2011, the guitarist/vocalist has paired heart-racing baselines and falsettos with eye-popping outfits and surrealist visuals.

Thundercat

A prodigal alto saxophonist with an ear for rap, Terrace Martin was tapped to round out TPAB's softer edges. His fluttering horn is omnipresent throughout the record, but Martin's optimistic resolve is most needed on "The Blacker The Berry": under his guidance, hellfire flames break open into warm sunlight for the last 60 seconds.

Terrace Martin
Kendrick Lamar"Hol' Up"

It's impossible to divorce Kendrick Lamar from Sounwave: the Compton producer has built K.Dot's calling-card singles since his mixtape days. "Hol' Up," "A.D.H.D," "Bitch Don't Kill My Vibe," the list goes on, and his fingerprint is heavy throughout TPAB. He added production to almost half the tracklist, and "King Kunta" lives up to previous work, reaching back to rap's cultural rough drafts found in old James Brown flows.

Sounwave
 
Jesse Grant/Getty Images

It could be argued that Robert Glasper's quietly heralded Black Radio laid the framework for an album like TPAB: the pianist's fearless fusion of jazz, R&B and hip-hop gave the Soulquarian age sorely-needed contemporary context. Three years later, Kendrick's record is drenched in Glasper's keys, and its formless structure forces listeners to follow as closely as Glasper always demands.

Robert Glasper
Kamasi Washington"Re Run Home"

Inglewood native Kamasi Washington just announced a new album, The Epic, starring the tumbling free jazz single "Re Home Run." The 34 year old composer/bandleader handled string arrangements throughout TPAB, and trades abstract horn runs with Terrace Martin on "u", the album's screech-to-a-halt centerpiece.

Kamasi Washington
 
 
Jason Kempin/Getty Images

Founder at CEO of the 1500 or Nothin' band, drummer/producer Larrance "Rance" Dopson has probably performed right in front of you at your favorite rap show. He and his crew of L.A. instrumentalists and arrangers have produced, written and played for Jay Z, Justin Timberlake, Teddy Riley, Lupe Fiasco and more. His percussion provides the backbone for much of TPAB, working closely with Terrace Martin on hard-thudded two steppers like "Complexion" and "These Walls."

Larrance Dopson
Posted: March 16, 2015
 

Features

‘DAMN.’: Kendrick Lamar’s Pursuit For Higher Learning

On his Pulitzer Prize-winning album, ‘DAMN.’, Kendrick Lamar wove a masterful tale of morality over cutting rhymes and urgent beats.

Kendrick Lamar DAMN

While Lamar has always steered clear of the hip-hop gossip ring, he’d clearly been paying attention to the culture at large. DAMN. is both a reaction to the mainstream media’s perception of both Kendrick and hip-hop, and an interrogation of the self. 

Kendrick Lamar has always told stories through his music, creating a bridge between spoken-word and visual narratives. With DAMN., however, the rapper challenged his audiences to glean understanding through disciplined listening.

Released on 14 April 2017, DAMN. emerged from a tense political climate in which simmering tension gave way to a cathartic and masterful release. Throughout the album, Lamar instils the need for restraint, self-reflection and the preservation of ideals that enable people to fight for themselves during crushing times.

Listen to DAMN. on Apple Music and Spotify.

Categorically conscious

DAMN. was never intended to be overtly political, but more of a continuation of Lamar’s growth and response to the world around him. He brings his sharp-edged narrative skills to the album, employing a different method of storytelling in which the listener is encouraged to engage with the tracks repeatedly in order to uncover the balance and execution behind each verse.

A very economical album, DAMN. finds Lamar succinctly balancing his novel wordplay, embedding every verse with a clear intent. There’s no spoon-feeding here, either, as K-Dot consistently delivers skilful, categorically “conscious hip-hop” that is worthy of careful dissection.

When Lamar released To Pimp A Butterfly in 2015, the themes of police brutality, racial inequality and political outrage were evident; he addressed trauma within the black community, financial turmoil and gun violence from a poetic approach. Two years later, Lamar unpacked these issues with the same maturity but a deeper scope, intertwining themes of religion to question one’s life path. Instead of being a call to action, DAMN. posits introspection and assessment of what one can take and use from the world.

Advancing the narrative

The album opens with a choir on ‘BLOOD.’, with Kendrick employing his cutting narrative flow, telling the story of an old blind woman who shoots him when he attempts to help her.

From here, DAMN. jumps and runs into ‘DNA.’, a booming track that takes to task America’s oppressive views on people of colour while reasserting Lamar’s own black pride. “This is why I say that hip-hop has done more damage to young African Americans than racism in recent years,” Geraldo Rivera spews on a Fox News segment, while Lamar fires back: “I know murder, conviction/Burners, boosters, burglars, ballers, dead, redemption/Scholars, fathers dead with kids and/I wish I was fed forgiveness.”

The album continues with Kendrick bobbing and weaving on tracks like ‘ELEMENT.’, an unforgiving battle-rap on which he insists he’s willing to “die for this s__t” over a James Blake-provided piano loop. “Last LP I tried to lift the black artists,” he raps, referencing To Pimp A Butterfly, adding, “But it’s a difference ’tween black artists and wack artists.”

His confidence is a siren for black people growing up disproportionately affected by police brutality and brazen racism. The brevity of the track is punctuated with the refrain “If I gotta slap a pu__y ass ni__a, I’ma make it look sexy”, while Lamar at one point lifts his flow from Juvenile’s 1998 single ‘Ha’, before the track slows down and eases into ‘FEEL.’.

Biblical allusions

Many of the tracks on DAMN. allude to the seven deadly sins. While each individual song stands on its own, they come together to create a scripture-inspired collection that fits tightly together. This philosophical concept gives way on ‘LOYALTY.’, one of the few radio-ready tracks on the album, featuring Rihanna. DAMN. is noticeably light on guest features, but Rihanna’s appearance (with a rare instance of her rapping) adds extra star power to the album. Though ‘LOYALTY.’ refers to romantic relationships, Lamar is fixated on notions of loyalty and honesty throughout his work.

‘HUMBLE.’, the album’s lead single, peaked at No.1 on the Billboard Hot 100 and serves to bind DAMN. together. The standout track sees Kendrick with one foot in the past and the other in the present, serving as a reminder of what life used to be like before he was catapulted into superstardom. The throbbing beat by Mike WiLL Made-It was originally reserved for Gucci Mane after he got out of prison, which explains the urgency of the production.

Returning to the album’s religious undercurrents, ‘FEAR.’ speaks of suffering and talking to God while recalling intensely traumatic experiences. The track ends with a voicemail from Kendrick’s cousin, who quotes The Book Of Deuteronomy and warns Lamar about God’s vengeful tendencies. On ‘GOD.’, you can sense a looming finality, as Kendrick wrestles between flaunting his achievements while staying humble, reminding himself that he’s just a fallible human.

Just as DAMN. begins with a chorus of voices on ‘BLOOD.’, so it ends with ‘DUCKWORTH.’, the track that underlines the cyclical nature of the album. A reference to his legal surname, ‘DUCKWORTH.’ imagines an alternate reality in which Kendrick never existed in the first place, telling the story of how Anthony “Top Dawg” Tiffith could’ve killed Kendrick’s father in a robbery long before the two ever met and came to work together. It’s a startling reminder that one decision can affect the entire trajectory of one life and the lives of those around it.

A “distinguished musical composition”

Kendrick Lamar has chosen to live as an artist focused on self-examination, tying up the loose ends of his life within his work, and DAMN. shows him in his prime, learning from himself and growing as a black man navigating the world and pushing against it when he needs to.

Even as it trolled the hip-hop mainstream, DAMN. was a critical and commercial smash. The album debuted at No.1 on the Billboard Hot 100, was certified triple-platinum and scooped up the Grammy for Best Rap Album in 2018. DAMN. also made history as the first non-classical and non-jazz album to be awarded a Pulitzer Prize. The committee praised its “distinguished musical composition”, calling the album “a virtuosic song collection unified by its vernacular authenticity and rhythmic dynamism that offers affecting vignettes capturing the complexity of modern African-American life”.

While Lamar has always steered clear of the hip-hop gossip ring, he’d clearly been paying attention to the culture at large. DAMN. is both a reaction to the mainstream media’s perception of both Kendrick and hip-hop, and an interrogation of the self.


DAMN. can be bought here. 

Listen to the best of Kendrick Lamar on Apple Music and Spotify.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kendrick_Lamar 

Kendrick Lamar

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

 
Pulitzer2018-portraits-kendrick-lamar.jpg
Lamar in May 2018

Kendrick Lamar Duckworth (born June 17, 1987) is an American rapper, songwriter, and record producer. Since his mainstream debut in 2012 with Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City, Lamar has been regarded as one of the most influential artists of his generation, as well as one of the greatest rappers and lyricists of all time.[1][2][3] Aside from his solo career, he is also known as a member of the hip hop supergroup Black Hippy alongside his Top Dawg Entertainment (TDE) label-mates Ab-Soul, Jay Rock, and Schoolboy Q.

Raised in Compton, California, Lamar embarked on his musical career as a teenager under the stage name K-Dot, releasing a mixtape that garnered local attention and led to his signing with indie record label Top Dawg Entertainment. He began to gain recognition in 2010 after his first retail release, Overly Dedicated. The following year, he independently released his first studio album, Section.80, which included his debut single "HiiiPoWeR". By that time, he had amassed a large online following and collaborated with several prominent hip hop artists.

Lamar's major label debut album, Good Kid, M.A.A.D City, was released in 2012 to critical acclaim. It was later certified Platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA). His third album To Pimp a Butterfly (2015) incorporated elements of funk, soul, jazz, and spoken word. It became his first number one album on the Billboard 200, and was the most acclaimed album of the 2010s.[4] It was followed by Untitled Unmastered (2016), a collection of unreleased demos that originated during the recording sessions for To Pimp a Butterfly. He released his fourth album, Damn (2017) to further acclaim; its lead single "Humble" topped the US Billboard Hot 100, while the album became the first non-classical and non-jazz album to be awarded the Pulitzer Prize for Music.[5] In 2018, he wrote and produced 14 songs for the soundtrack to the superhero film Black Panther, which also received critical acclaim.

Lamar has received many accolades over the course of his career, including 13 Grammy Awards, two American Music Awards, five Billboard Music Awards, a Brit Award, 11 MTV Video Music Awards, a Pulitzer Prize, and an Academy Award nomination. In 2012, MTV named him the Hottest MC in the Game on their annual list.[6] Time named him one of the 100 most influential people in the world in 2016.[7] In 2015, he received the California State Senate's Generational Icon Award. Three of his studio albums have been listed in Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time (2020).

Early life

Kendrick Lamar Duckworth was born in Compton, California, on June 17, 1987,[8][9] the son of a couple from Chicago.[10] Although not in a gang himself, he grew up around gang members, with his closest friends being Westside Piru Bloods and his father, Kenny Duckworth, being a Gangster Disciple.[11][12] His first name was given to him by his mother in honor of American singer-songwriter Eddie Kendricks of The Temptations.[13] He grew up on welfare and in Section 8 housing. In 1995, at the age of eight, Lamar witnessed his idols Tupac Shakur and Dr. Dre filming the music video for their hit single "California Love", which proved to be a significant moment in his life.[14] As a child, Lamar attended McNair Elementary and Vanguard Learning Center in the Compton Unified School District. He has admitted to being quiet and shy in school, his mother even confirming he was a "loner" until the age of seven.[15][11] As a teenager, he attended Centennial High School in Compton, where he was a straight-A student.[10][16][17]

Career

2004–2009: Career beginnings

In 2004, at the age of 16, Lamar released his first full-length project, a mixtape titled Youngest Head Nigga in Charge (Hub City Threat: Minor of the Year), under the pseudonym K-Dot.[18] The mixtape was released under Konkrete Jungle Muzik and garnered local recognition for Lamar.[19] The mixtape led to Lamar securing a recording contract with Top Dawg Entertainment (TDE), a newly founded indie record label, based in Carson, California.[18] He began recording material with the label and subsequently released a 26-track mixtape two years later, titled Training Day (2005).[20]

Throughout 2006 and 2007, Lamar would appear alongside other up-and-coming West Coast rappers, such as Jay Rock and Ya Boy, as opening acts for veteran West Coast rapper The Game. Under the moniker K-Dot, Lamar was also featured on The Game's songs "The Cypha" and "Cali Niggaz".[21][22]

In 2008, Lamar was prominently featured throughout the music video for Jay Rock's commercial debut single, "All My Life (In the Ghetto)", which features American hip hop superstar Lil Wayne and was backed by Warner Bros. Records. Lamar garnered further recognition after a video of a live performance of a Charles Hamilton show surfaced, in which Hamilton battled fellow rappers who were in the audience. Lamar began rapping a verse over the instrumental to Miilkbone's "Keep It Real", which would later appear on a track titled "West Coast Wu-Tang".[14]

After receiving a co-sign from Lil Wayne,[23][24] Lamar released his third mixtape in 2009, titled C4, which was heavily themed around Wayne's album Tha Carter III.[25] Soon after, Lamar decided to drop K-Dot as his stage name and go by Kendrick Lamar. He subsequently released a self-titled extended play in late 2009.[26] That same year, Lamar along with his TDE label-mates: Jay Rock, Ab-Soul and ScHoolboy Q formed Black Hippy, a hip hop supergroup.[27]

2010–2011: Overly Dedicated and Section.80

Throughout 2010, Lamar toured with Tech N9ne and Jay Rock on The Independent Grind tour.[18] On September 14, 2010, he released the visuals for "P&P 1.5", a song taken from his mixtape, Overly Dedicated, featuring his Black Hippy cohort Ab-Soul.[28] On the same date, Lamar released Overly Dedicated to digital retailers under Top Dawg Entertainment, and later on September 23, released it for free online.[29][30] The project fared well enough to enter the United States Billboard Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums chart, where it peaked at number 72.[31]

Lamar performing in Toronto in 2011

The mixtape includes a song titled "Ignorance Is Bliss", in which Lamar highlights gangsta rap and street crime, but ends each verse with "ignorance is bliss", giving the message "we know not what we do;"[32][33] it was this song specifically that made hip hop producer Dr. Dre want to work with Lamar after seeing the music video on YouTube.[34] This led to Lamar working with Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg on Dre's often-delayed Detox album, as well as speculation of Lamar signing to Dr. Dre's record label, Aftermath Entertainment.[18][35][36] In December 2010, Complex magazine spotlighted Lamar in an edition of their "Indie Intro" series.[37]

In early 2011, Lamar was included in XXL's annual Top 10 Freshman Class, and was featured on the cover alongside fellow up-and-coming rappers Cyhi the Prynce, Meek Mill, Fred the Godson, Mac Miller, Yelawolf and Big K.R.I.T., and Diggy Simmons.[38] On April 11, 2011, Lamar announced the title of his next full-length project to be Section.80,[39] and the following day the first single "HiiiPoWeR" was released, the concept of which was to further explain the HiiiPoWeR movement.[40] The song was produced by fellow American rapper J. Cole, marking their first of several collaborations.[40]

On the topic of whether his next project would be an album or a mixtape, Lamar answered: "I treat every project like it's an album anyway. It's not going to be nothing leftover. I never do nothing like that. These are my leftover songs you all can have them. I'm going to put my best out. My best effort. I'm trying to look for an album in 2012."[41] In June 2011, Lamar released "Ronald Reagan Era (His Evils)", a cut from Section.80, featuring Wu-Tang Clan leader RZA.[42] On July 2, 2011, Lamar released Section.80, his first independent album, to critical acclaim. The album features guest appearances from GLC, Colin Munroe, Schoolboy Q, and Ab-Soul, while the production was handled by Top Dawg in-house production team Digi+Phonics as well as Wyldfyer, Terrace Martin and J. Cole. Section.80 went on to sell 5,300 digital copies in its first week, without any television or radio coverage, and received mostly positive reviews.[43]

In August 2011, while performing at a West Los Angeles concert, Lamar was dubbed the "New King of the West Coast" by Snoop Dogg, Dr. Dre and Game.[44][45] On August 24, 2011, Lamar released the music video for the Section.80 track, "ADHD". The video was directed by Vashtie Kola who had this to say of the video: "Inspired by "A.D.H.D"'s dark beat and melancholy lyrics which explore a generation in conflict, we find Kendrick Lamar in a video that illustrates the songs[sic] universal and age-old theme of apathetic youth. (...) Shot in New York City during the sweltering July Summer heat".[46] In October 2011, Lamar appeared alongside fellow American rappers B.o.B, Tech N9ne, MGK, and Big K.R.I.T., in a cypher at the BET Hip Hop Awards.[47] Also in October, Lamar partnered with Windows Phone, and crafted an original song with producer Nosaj Thing entitled "Cloud 10", to promote Microsoft's new product.[48] During 2011, Lamar appeared on several high-profile albums including Game's The R.E.D. Album, Tech N9ne's All 6's and 7's, 9th Wonder's The Wonder Years and Canadian recording artist Drake's Grammy Award-winning Take Care, which featured Lamar on a solo track.[49]

2012–2013: Good Kid, M.A.A.D City and controversies

Lamar performing in 2012

On February 15, 2012, a song by Lamar titled "Cartoon and Cereal", featuring fellow American rapper Gunplay, was leaked online.[50] Lamar later revealed that the track was for his major-label debut studio album and that he had plans to shoot a video for it.[51] Although the song would later be ranked No. 2 in Complex's Best 50 Songs of 2012 list, it would ultimately fail to appear on Lamar's debut.[52] In February 2012, it was announced that Fader had enlisted both Kendrick Lamar and Detroit-based rapper Danny Brown, to appear on the cover of the magazine's Spring Style issue.[53] In February, Lamar also embarked on Drake's Club Paradise Tour, opening along with fellow American rappers, ASAP Rocky and 2 Chainz.[54]

In March 2012, MTV announced that Lamar had signed a deal with Interscope Records and Aftermath Entertainment, marking the end of his career as an independent artist. Under the new deal, Lamar's projects, including his album Good Kid, M.A.A.D City, would be jointly released via Top Dawg, Aftermath, and Interscope.[55] Also in March, Lamar appeared on Last Call with Carson Daly, where he spoke on Dr. Dre and his hometown of Compton, California.[56] On April 2, 2012, Lamar premiered his commercial debut single "The Recipe", on Big Boy's Neighborhood at Power 106. The song, which serves as the first single from Good Kid, M.A.A.D City, was released for digital download the following day. The song was produced by West Coast producer Scoop DeVille and features vocals from his mentor Dr. Dre, who also mixed the record.[citation needed]

On May 14, 2012, J. Cole again spoke on his collaborative effort with Lamar. In an interview with Bootleg Kev, Cole stated: "I just started working with Kendrick the other day. We got it in, finally, again. We got maybe four or five [songs] together."[57] On May 21, Lamar made his 106 & Park debut alongside Ace Hood, joining Birdman and Mack Maine on stage to perform "B Boyz". Lamar also talked about his style and sound, Dr. Dre and Snoop Dogg, and his upcoming collaborative LP with J. Cole.[58] On the same date, Lamar released "War Is My Love", an original song written and recorded for the video game Tom Clancy's Ghost Recon: Future Soldier, for which he appeared in a mini promotional clip earlier that month.[59]

On July 31, 2012, Top Dawg, Aftermath, and Interscope serviced "Swimming Pools (Drank)" as the lead single from Lamar's debut album. The song's music video, directed by Jerome D, premiered on August 3, 2012, on 106 & Park. The song peaked at number 17 on the Billboard Hot 100 in its thirteenth week of gradually climbing up the chart. On August 15, 2012, singer Lady Gaga announced via Twitter that both had recorded a song titled "PartyNauseous" for his debut album.[60] However, Gaga withdrew from participation in the last moment, citing that it was due to artistic differences and had nothing to do with Lamar.[61] On August 17, 2012, Lamar released a song titled "Westside, Right on Time", featuring Southern rapper Young Jeezy.[62] The song was released as part of the "Top Dawg Entertainment Fam Appreciation Week". During 2012, Lamar also toured with the rest of Black Hippy and MMG rapper, Stalley, on BET's Music Matters Tour.[63]

Lamar's major-label debut, good kid, m.A.A.d city, was released on October 22, 2012. The album was met with critical acclaim and debuted at number two in the US, selling 242,100 copies in its first week.[64] Later that year, Fuse TV listed Lamar's single, "Backseat Freestyle" among the top 40 songs of 2012.[65] In a few months' time, the album was certified gold by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA). HipHopDX named Lamar "Emcee of the Year" for their 2012 Year-End honors.[66] In November, after Cole posted pictures of himself and Lamar working in the studio, the latter revealed that the two are still working on a project, but an exact release date was not given for the joint album: "We are going to drop that out the sky though. I don't want to give dates. I'm just going to let it fall" in an interview with the LA Leakers.[67]

Lamar performing in 2013

On January 26, 2013, Lamar performed the album's first singles "Swimming Pools (Drank)" and "Poetic Justice" on NBC's sketch comedy and variety show, Saturday Night Live. In the same episode, Lamar also appeared alongside guest host Adam Levine and comedy band The Lonely Island, in an SNL Digital Short, which spawned the single "YOLO".[68][69][70] On February 22, 2013, Lamar released the video for "Poetic Justice", the Janet Jackson-sampling collaboration with Canadian rapper Drake.[71] On February 26, Lamar performed "Poetic Justice" on the Late Show with David Letterman.[72] Just nine months after its release, good kid, m.A.A.d city was certified platinum by the RIAA, Lamar's first platinum certification.[73]

In August 2013, Lamar's verse on the Big Sean track "Control", made waves across the hip-hop industry. In the verse, Lamar vows to lyrically "murder" every other up-and-coming rapper, namely J. Cole, Big K.R.I.T., Wale, Pusha T, Meek Mill, ASAP Rocky, Drake, Big Sean, Jay Electronica, Tyler, The Creator and Mac Miller. During the song, Lamar also calls himself the "King of New York", which caused controversy among several New York-based rappers.[74] Many New York rappers, including Papoose, The Mad Rapper, Mickey Factz, JR Writer, Mysonne, Joell Ortiz and more, took offense to this. Furthermore, fellow American rappers such as Meek Mill, Lupe Fiasco, Cassidy, Joe Budden, King L, Bizarre and B.o.B, among many others, released a response or diss track, within a week.[75] In the days following the track's release, Lamar's Twitter account saw a 510% increase in followers.[76]

On September 6, 2013, American recording artist and record producer Kanye West announced he would be headlining his first solo tour in five years, in support of his sixth album Yeezus (2013), with Kendrick Lamar accompanying him on tour. The Yeezus Tour began in October.[77][78] In October, it was also revealed that Lamar would be featured on Eminem's eighth studio album The Marshall Mathers LP 2.[79] On October 15, 2013, Lamar won five awards at the BET Hip Hop Awards, including Album of the Year and Lyricist of the Year (the latter of which he had also won the year before).[80] At the award show, Lamar performed "Money Trees", and was also featured in a cypher alongside his Top Dawg label-mates Jay Rock, Schoolboy Q, Isaiah Rashad, and Ab-Soul.[81][82] During an October 2013 interview with XXL, Lamar revealed that following The Yeezus Tour, he would begin to start working on his next album.[83]

Lamar performing "Money Trees" during the Yeezus Tour

In November 2013, he was named GQ's "Rapper of the Year," and was featured on the cover of the magazine's "Men of the Year" issue.[84][85][86] During the interview, he stated that he would begin recording his second major-label studio album in January 2014.[87] Following the issue's release, TDE's CEO Anthony "Top Dawg" Tiffith pulled Kendrick Lamar from performing at GQ's party that accompanies the issue, calling out writer Steve Marsh's profile, "Kendrick Lamar: Rapper of the Year," for its "racial overtones."[88][89][90][91] GQ editor-in-chief Jim Nelson responded with the following statement: "Kendrick Lamar is one of the most talented new musicians to arrive on the scene in years. That's the reason we chose to celebrate him, wrote an incredibly positive article declaring him the next King of Rap, and gave him our highest honor: putting him on the cover of our Men of the Year issue. I'm not sure how you can spin that into a bad thing, and I encourage anyone interested to read the story and see for themselves."[92][93]

Lamar received a total of seven Grammy nominations at the 56th Annual Grammy Awards (2014), including Best New Artist, Album of the Year, and Best Rap Song,[94] but did not win in any category. Many publications felt that The Recording Academy snubbed Lamar, as well as Seattle-based rapper Macklemore, who won Best Rap Album – category for which Lamar was also nominated.[95][96][97] At the ceremony, Lamar performed "M.A.A.D City" and a remix of "Radioactive" in a mash-up with American rock band Imagine Dragons at the awards ceremony.[98] The remix was again performed by Lamar and the band on February 1, 2014, during the airing of Saturday Night Live, marking Lamar's second appearance on the show.[99]

2014–2016: To Pimp a Butterfly and Untitled Unmastered

Lamar at the HollywoodPalladium during a pre Grammy 
concert in 2015

In an interview with Billboard in February 2014, Lamar stated he was planning to put out a new album the next September.[100] During the same interview, which also included Schoolboy Q, Anthony "Top Dawg" Tiffith, and Dave Free, the possibility of a debut effort from the Black Hippy collective appearing in 2014 was announced.[100] On July 31, 2014, it was announced that Lamar would premiere his short film m.A.A.d at Sundance's inaugural NEXT Fest in Los Angeles on August 9.[101] The film is inspired by good kid, m.A.A.d city, and was directed by Kahlil Joseph, who had previously worked with Lamar on the Yeezus Tour.[101] Lamar featured on the Alicia Keys song "It's On Again", which was written for the film The Amazing Spider-Man 2 (2014).[102]

On September 23, 2014, Lamar released "i" as the first single from his third album.[103] On November 15, 2014, Lamar once again appeared on Saturday Night Live as the musical guest, where he performed "i" and "Pay for It", appearing alongside Jay Rock.[104] Through his appearance, with blackout contacts and his braids partly out, Lamar paid homage to New York-based rapper Method Man, whose debut album Tical celebrated its 20th anniversary that day.[105][106] On December 17, 2014, Lamar debuted a new untitled song on one of the final episodes of The Colbert Report.[107][108] In early 2015, Lamar won Best Rap Performance and Best Rap Song for his song "i" at the 57th Annual Grammy Awards.[109] On February 9, 2015, he released his third album's second single, titled "The Blacker the Berry".[110] Originally expected to be released on March 23, 2015, his new album To Pimp a Butterfly was released a week early on March 16, 2015 to rave reviews.[111] The album debuted atop the US Billboard 200 chart selling 324,000 copies in its first week,[112] and established Spotify's global first-day streaming record (9.6 million).[113] Lamar was later featured on the cover of Rolling Stone, with editor Josh Eells writing he's "arguably the most talented rapper of his generation."[11][114]

Lamar in 2016 performing at Festival Internacional de BenicĂ ssim

On May 17, 2015, Lamar featured on the official remix of American singer-songwriter Taylor Swift's song "Bad Blood", as well as appearing in the music video.[115] The original song is in Swift's fifth studio album 1989. The single reached number one on the Billboard Hot 100 and the music video won them a Grammy Award for Best Music Video and a MTV Video Music Award for Video of the Year.[116] To Pimp a Butterfly produced other three singles with accompanying music videos, "King Kunta", "Alright" and "These Walls". The music video for "Alright" received four nominations at the 2015 MTV Video Music Awards, including Video of the Year and Best Male Video.[117] The song "For Free? (Interlude)" also featured a music video,[118] as did "u" with "For Sale" as part of the short film "God Is Gangsta."[119] In October 2015, Lamar announced the Kunta's Groove Sessions Tour, which included eight shows in eight cities.[120] In early 2016, Kanye West released the track "No More Parties in L.A." on his official SoundCloud, a collaboration featuring Lamar and produced by West and Madlib.[121] Lamar also performed a new song, "Untitled 2" on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon in January.[122]

Billboard critics commented at the end of the year, "twenty years ago, a conscious rap record wouldn't have penetrated the mainstream in the way Kendrick Lamar did with To Pimp A Butterfly. His sense of timing is impeccable. In the midst of rampant cases of police brutality and racial tension across America, he spews raw, aggressive bars while possibly cutting a rug,"[123] while Pitchfork editors noted it "forced critics to think deeply about music. It's an album by the greatest rapper of his generation."[124] Producer Tony Visconti stated David Bowie's album Blackstar (2016) was influenced by Lamar's work, "we were listening to a lot of Kendrick Lamar [...] we loved the fact Kendrick was so open-minded and he didn't do a straight-up hip-hop record. He threw everything on there, and that's exactly what we wanted to do."[125] Visconti also stated this about Lamar while talking about "rule-breakers" in music.

"His album To Pimp A Butterfly broke every rule in the book and he had a number one album glued to the top of the charts. You'd think certain labels would learn form that. But they take somebody who is out there and say, 'That's what people want.' No, people want that for one week. You don't want the same song every single day of your life."[126]

Lamar won five Grammys at the 58th ceremony, including Best Rap Album for To Pimp a Butterfly.[127] Other nominations included Album of the Year and Song of the Year.[128] At the ceremony, Lamar performed a medley of "The Blacker the Berry" and "Alright".[129] It was ranked by Rolling Stone and Billboard as the best moment of the night,[130][131] with the latter writing "It was easily one of the best live TV performances in history."[129]

On March 4, 2016, Lamar released a compilation album Untitled Unmastered,[132] containing eight untitled tracks, each dated.[133] Lamar later confirmed that the tracks were unfinished demos from the recording of To Pimp a Butterfly.[134] The compilation album debuted atop the US Billboard 200.[135]

2017–present: Damn. and Black Panther soundtrack

Lamar on The DAMN. Tour in 2017

On March 23, 2017, Lamar released a promotional single "The Heart Part 4".[136] A week later, Lamar released the lead single, titled "Humble", accompanied by its music video.[137] On April 7, 2017, his fourth studio album was made available for pre-order and confirmed to be released on April 14, 2017.[138][139] On April 11, Lamar announced the album title, Damn (stylized as DAMN.), as well as the track list, which confirmed guest appearances by Rihanna, Zacari, and U2.[140] The album was released on April 14, 2017 to rave reviews, with a Rolling Stone writer describing it as a combination of "the old school and the next-level."[141] It marked his third number one album on the Billboard 200 chart, and the single "Humble" became his first number one as a lead artist on the Billboard Hot 100.[142] On May 4, 2017, Damn was certified platinum by the Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA).[143] Lamar later released the DAMN. Collectors Edition in mid-December 2017, with the tracklist from the original album in reverse order.[144]

Along with Top Dawg Entertainment founder Anthony Tiffith, Lamar produced and curated the film soundtrack for the Marvel Studios superhero film Black Panther (2018), titled Black Panther: The Album.[145] A single from the soundtrack, "All the Stars", was released in January 2018 featuring singer SZA,[145] and it earned him an Academy Award nomination for Best Original Song.[146] Shortly thereafter, another track, titled "King's Dead", was released by Jay Rock featuring Lamar, Future and James Blake.[147] The third single, "Pray For Me", by Lamar and The Weeknd, was released in February 2018, ahead of the album's release in that month.[148][149] Black Panther: The Album was released on February 9, 2018[150] to universal acclaim.[151][152]

In January 2018, Lamar's song publishing deal with Warner/Chappell Music began to expire. Top Dawg Entertainment, which represents Lamar, is seeking $20 to $40 million for the rapper's catalogue.[153] Lamar opened the 60th Annual Grammy Awards with a medley of "XXX", "LUST", "DNA", "HUMBLE", "King's Dead" and Rich the Kid's "New Freezer".[154] He was also nominated for seven awards, including Album of the Year and Best Rap Album for DAMN., and the Record of the Year, Best Rap Performance, Best Rap Song, and Best Music Video for "HUMBLE", and Best Rap/Sung Performance for "LOYALTY" with Rihanna. Lamar ultimately won five awards at the ceremony, for Best Rap Album, Best Rap Performance, Best Rap Song, Best Music Video, and Best Rap/Sung Performance.[155]

In July 2018, Lamar made his acting debut in the fifth season of the Starz drama series Power, portraying a Dominican drug addict named Laces.[156] Lamar's casting stemmed from his friendship with rapper 50 Cent, who also executive produces and stars in the series. Series creator Courtney A. Kemp said that Lamar told 50 Cent that he wanted to be on the show and 50 Cent organized the appearance.[157] Lamar wanted to portray a character that did not resemble his musical persona, and drew inspiration from various people he knew when growing up in Compton. He also compared his acting preparation to his songwriting, saying that he prefers to "always have that open space to evolve".[158] Lamar's performance was praised by critics and viewers.[159][160][161][162]

Artistry

Influences

Kendrick Lamar has stated that Tupac Shakur, The Notorious B.I.G., Jay Z, Nas, and Eminem are his top five favorite rappers. Tupac Shakur is his biggest influence, and has influenced his music as well as his day-to-day lifestyle.[18][163][164] In a 2011 interview with Rolling Stone, Lamar mentioned Mos Def and Snoop Dogg as rappers that he listened to and took influence from during his early years.[165] He also cites rapper DMX as an influence: "[DMX] really [got me started] on music," explained Lamar in an interview with Philadelphia's Power 99. "That first album [It's Dark and Hell Is Hot] is classic, [so he had an influence on me]." He has also stated Eazy-E as an influence in a post by Complex saying: "I Wouldn't Be Here Today If It Wasn't for Eazy-E."[166]

In a September 2012 interview, Lamar stated rapper Eminem "influenced a lot of my style" and has since credited Eminem for his own aggression, on records such as "Backseat Freestyle".[167][168] Lamar also gave Lil Wayne's work in Hot Boys credit for influencing his style and praised his longevity.[169] He has said that he also grew up listening to Rakim, Dr. Dre, and Tha Dogg Pound.[170] In January 2013, when asked to name three rappers that have played a role in his style, Lamar said: "It's probably more of a west coast influence. A little bit of Kurupt, [Tupac], with some of the content of Ice Cube."[171] In a November 2013 interview with GQ, when asked "The Four MC's That Made Kendrick Lamar?", he answered Tupac Shakur, Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg and Mobb Deep, namely Prodigy.[172] Lamar professed to having been influenced by jazz trumpeter Miles Davis and Parliament-Funkadelic during the recording of To Pimp a Butterfly.[173]

Musical style

Lamar has been branded as the "new king of hip hop" numerous times.[174][175][176] Forbes said, on Lamar's placement as hip hop's "king", "Kendrick Lamar may or may not be the greatest rapper alive right now. He is certainly in the very short lists of artists in the conversation."[177] Lamar frequently refers to himself as the "greatest rapper alive"[178] and once called himself "The King of New York."[179]

On the topic of his music genre, Lamar has said: "You really can't categorize my music, it's human music."[180][181] Lamar's projects are usually concept albums.[182] Critics found Good Kid, M.A.A.D City heavily influenced by West Coast hip hop[183] and 90s gangsta rap.[184] His third studio album, To Pimp a Butterfly, incorporates elements of funk, jazz, soul and spoken word poetry.[185]

Called a "radio-friendly but overtly political rapper" by Pitchfork,[186] Lamar has been a branded "master of storytelling"[187] and his lyrics have been described as "katana-blade sharp" and his flow limber and dexterous.[188] Lamar's writing usually includes references to racism, black empowerment[189] and social injustice,[190] being compared to a State of Union address by The Guardian. His writing has also been called "confessional"[191] and controversial.[174] The New York Times has called Lamar's musical style anti-flamboyant, interior and complex and labelled him as a technical rapper.[192] Billboard described his lyricism as "Shakespearean".[193]

Controversies

Lyrics

Lamar's 2015 song "The Blacker the Berry" gathered controversy following the lines, "So why did I weep when Trayvon Martin was in the street, when gang-banging make me kill a nigga blacker than me? Hypocrite!" Some fans perceived the line to be Lamar judging the black community.[194] Lamar later spoke on the lyrics in a NPR interview, saying, "It's not me pointing at my community; it's me pointing at myself, I don't talk about these things if I haven't lived them, and I've hurt people in my life. It's something I still have to think about when I sleep at night."[195]

Following the release of Lamar's 2017 song "Humble", he faced backlash for the lines, "I'm so fucking sick and tired of the Photoshop / Show me something natural like afro on Richard Pryor / Show me something natural like ass with some stretch marks." He was accused of putting down sections of women who enjoy makeup in an attempt to be uplifting.[196] Female labelmate SZA later defended Lamar.[197] The model who appeared in the music video for "Humble" was also attacked on social media due to her role in the video.[198]

Feuds

In August 2013, Lamar was featured on the song "Control" by Big Sean. In his verse, Lamar called out several rappers, telling them he was going to murder his competition. The verse gathered responses and diss tracks from artists such as Joe Budden, Papoose, Meek Mill, Diddy, Lupe Fiasco, and B.o.B.[199] Rolling Stone called the single "one of the most important hip-hop songs of the last decade".[200]

Lamar has been reported to be in a feud with Drake. Complex called their relationship "complicated",[201] Genius called it a "subliminal war",[202] and GQ called it a "cold war" due to the mass popularity of both artists.[203][204] Before Lamar's "Control" verse, Lamar had been featured on Drake's "Buried Alive Interlude", Drake was featured on Lamar's single "Poetic Justice", and both were featured on A$AP Rocky's song "Fuckin' Problems".[201] Drake responded to Lamar's "Control" verse in an interview with Billboard, saying, "I know good and well that Kendrick's not murdering me, at all, in any platform."[205]

In September 2013, Drake's third album, Nothing was the Same, was released.[206] Publications such as Complex speculated that Drake had directed subliminal insults at Lamar in the song "The Language".[207] In an interview with Pitchfork a day later, Drake showed disapproval of "Control", saying he wasn't impressed with it and added, "Mind you, it'll go on– Complex and Rap Radar will give it like, verse of the millennium and all that shit or whatever." Drake later said his only competition was Kanye West, after being asked about Kendrick saying he was murdering his competition.[208] Lamar further escalated tensions in the 2013 BET Hip-Hop Awards cypher when he referred to Drake during the cypher,[209] saying, "Yeah, and nothing's been the same since they dropped 'Control' / And tucked a sensitive rapper back in his pajama clothes."[210] Stereogum noted that Lamar was referencing Drake's third studio album, Nothing was the Same, and also Drake being called overly sensitive by the media.[211]

In December 2013, Drake, whilst being interviewed by Vice, said he "stood his ground" and he has to realize "I'm being baited and I'm not gonna fall", then refusing to deny that the line on "The Language" was directed to Lamar, saying he "doesn't want to get into responses". Drake later went on to say that he acknowledged the lines in Lamar's cypher were for him and that it wasn't enough for him to prepare a response before saying they haven't seen each other since the BET cypher.[212] Several more reported subliminal lines were spoken by each rapper, four by Kendrick on the songs, "Pay for it", "King Kunta", "Darkside/Gone", and "Deep Water" and two by Drake on the songs "Used To" and "4PM In Calabasas".[201]

In June 2016, former NFL player and broadcast show host Marcellus Wiley alleged that on his ESPN show, Drake or Lamar had given an interview in which they started "talking noise" and claimed that they had problems with the other individual. The interview was eventually not aired and Wiley said it had been "destroyed".[213] Wiley said that the interview would have escalated the reported feud to become official with diss tracks being directed at the other side.[214][215] Following an almost year-long hiatus from music, Lamar released "The Heart Part 4". It was speculated that Lamar's line, "One, two, three, four, five / I am the greatest rapper alive" was a response to Drake's line, "I know I said top five, but I'm top two / And I'm not two and I got one" on the song "Gyalchester".[216][217] Kendrick proceeded to insult rappers who have ghostwriters in an interview with Rolling Stone in August 2015. It was speculated that the insult was directed towards Drake, who has seen controversy due to the use of "ghostwriters" on songs such as "RICO".[218]

Lamar has also feuded with Detroit rapper and former collaborator Big Sean. Following the release of Sean's track "Control" in August 2013 where Lamar calls Sean out and claims he's gonna "murder" him, Sean responded in praise, saying, "Alright, that's what it need to get back to, it need to get back to hip-hop, that culture."[219] In January 2015, Sean later spoke on "Control", saying that the song was "negative"[220] and a month later released the "Me, Myself, and I".[221] In October 2016, Big Sean released "No More Interviews" with shots directed at Lamar.[222]

Media

In May 2018, it was announced that Lamar was planning a departure from Spotify.[223] It came after he heard the streaming platform intended to ban fellow rapper XXXTentacion from their editorial and algorithmic playlists for his acts of violence against women.[223] The removal of XXXTentacion as well as R. Kelly arrived in accordance to Spotify's new Hate Content & Hateful Conduct policy.[224] Conceived in light of the #MeToo movement, the removal policy sought to promote "openness, diversity, tolerance and respect" by removing content that promotes, advocates, or incites hatred and violence against an individual or group based on characteristics.[225][226] According to The Guardian, a representative for Kendrick Lamar personally contacted Daniel Ek to air his frustrations with the policy, claiming it was censorship.[223][227] Bloomberg reported that the representative reached out to Spotify Chief Executive Officer Daniel Ek and head of artist relations Troy Carter, threatening to pull his music if the company kept the policy as it stood. Anthony "Top Dawg" Tiffith, CEO of Top Dawg Entertainment, confirmed he threatened to remove music from the service in an interview with Billboard.[228][229] Kendrick had been a fan of XXXTentacion's music. He tweeted a link to his debut album 17 accompanied by praise for the controversial rapper's "raw thoughts."[230] Lamar stated, "Listen to this album if you want to feel anything."[227] He has since yet to comment or acknowledge the grisly allegations of domestic abuse charged against XXXTentacion.[230] In response to the criticism, Spotify reversed their policy and reinstated XXXTentacion's music back onto playlists after other artists followed suit in threatening to pull their musical works.[227]

Business ventures

In December 2014, it was announced that Lamar had started a partnership with sportswear brand Reebok.[231] In 2017, it was announced that Lamar entered a collaboration deal with Nike.[232]

On March 5, 2020, Kendrick Lamar and Dave Free announced the launching of pgLang, which is described as a multilingual, artist-friendly service company.[233][234] In a press release, Dave Free claimed that the company "is not a record label, a movie studio, or a publishing house. This is something new. In this overstimulated time, we are focused on cultivating raw expression from grassroots partnerships."[235] The announcement also featured a "visual mission statement," a four-minute short film starring Lamar, Baby Keem, Jorja Smith, and Yara Shahidi.[236]

Impact

Commenting on Lamar's discography, Esquire UK editor Olivia Ovended wrote in 2020, "even if you're not overly familiar with Lamar's back catalogue, his influence in music is everywhere, from the West Coast hip-hop now being made by Anderson Paak. to the trap of Gucci Mane. He is—and we'll brook no argument here—the greatest rapper making music today,"[237] while The New Yorker journalist Carrie Battan considered him "California's biggest hip-hop artist since the nineteen-nineties."[238] History.com considered Lamar's Pulitzer Prize for Music award as "a sign of the American cultural elite's recognition of hip-hop as a legitimate artistic medium."[239] CNN Entertainment listed him among "the 10 artists who transformed music this decade"[240] and NME included him among "10 artists who defined the 2010s."[241] NPR writer Marcus J. Moore noticed Lamar's rap-jazz aesthetic present on his repertoire, "he's at the vanguard of this movement, proving that he too is a rule breaker, just like Miles, Herbie, Coltrane, Glasper and Hargove, who all took bold creative risks to push jazz into uncharted territory," and stated that Lamar is introducing jazz to a generation "who might only know it through their parents' old record collections."[242] Esquire US writer Matt Miller opined about the rapper's videography in 2017, crediting Lamar for "reviving" the music video as "a powerful form" of social commentary, citing as examples "Alright" and "Humble".[243]

Multiple artists have cited his work as an inspiration, including Khalid,[244] Roddy Ricch,[245] Christine and the Queens,[246] Jhené Aiko,[247] YBN Cordae,[248] Car Seat Headrest and Dua Lipa.[249] David Bowie's album Blackstar (2016) was influenced by To Pimp a Butterfly, which was noted by Rolling Stone as one of the albums that made Lamar "the decade's deepest, rangiest, most musical and consequential rapper."[250]

Achievements

Lamar performing 
in September 2018

Lamar has won thirteen Grammy Awards. At the 57th Grammy Awards in 2015, his single "i" earned him his first two wins: Best Rap Song and Best Rap Performance. At the 58th Grammy Awards, Lamar led the list of nominations with 11 mentions, passing Eminem and Kanye West as the rapper with the most nominations in a single night, and second overall behind Michael Jackson and Babyface, who hold the record of 12 nominations.[251][128] Lamar was the most-awarded artist at the ceremony with five.[127] good kid, m.A.A.d city, To Pimp a Butterfly and Damn have all been nominated for Album of the Year, with the latter two winning for Best Rap Album.[155] Those three albums were featured on Rolling Stone's industry-voted list of the 500 Greatest Albums of All Time in 2020.[252]

Lamar has received two honors in his hometown. On May 11, 2015, he received the California State Senate's Generational Icon Award from State Senator Isadore Hall III (DCompton) who represents California's 35th district. From the senate floor, Lamar told the legislature, "Being from the City of Compton and knowing the parks that I played at and the neighborhoods, I always thought how great the opportunity would be to give back to my community off of what I do in music."[253] On February 13, 2016, Mayor of Compton, California Aja Brown presented Lamar with the key to the city, for "representing Compton's evolution, embodying the New Vision for Compton."[254]

He appeared for the first time on the Time 100 list of most influential people in 2016.[7] His debut major-label release, good kid, m.A.A.d city, was named one of "The 100 Best Debut Albums of All Time" by Rolling Stone.[255] To Pimp a Butterfly was ranked by many publications as one of the best albums of the 2010s (decade), with The Independent placing it first.[250] In 2015, Billboard included Lamar in "The 10 Greatest Rappers of All-Time."[256] Complex magazine has ranked Lamar atop "The 20 Best Rappers in Their 20s" annual lists in 2013, 2015 and 2016.[257]

DAMN. won the 2018 Pulitzer Prize for Music, making Lamar the first non-jazz or classical artist to win the award.[258] In collecting his award on May 30, 2018, new Pulitzer administrator Dana Canedy, the first woman and African American to lead the organization, told him: "Congratulations, looks like we're both making history this year."[259]

Personal life

Lamar (left) at the 2016 White House Independence Day celebration with President Barack Obama (center) and singer Janelle Monáe (right)

In April 2015, Lamar became engaged to his high school girlfriend, beautician Whitney Alford.[260] He is a cousin of NBA player Nick Young.[261] He used to smoke cannabis, but has since quit.[262]

Lamar is a devout Christian,[263] having converted following the death of a friend.[264] He has been outspoken about his faith in his music[265] and interviews.[266] He announced to the audience during Kanye West's Yeezus Tour that he had been baptized in 2013.[266][267][268] Lamar has credited God for his fame and his "deliverance" from crime that often plagued Compton in the 1990s.[269] He also believes his career is divinely inspired and that he has a greater purpose to serve mankind, saying in an interview with Complex in 2014, "I got a greater purpose, God put something in my heart to get across and that's what I'm going to focus on, using my voice as an instrument and doing what needs to be done."[270] The introductory lines to his 2012 album Good Kid, M.A.A.D City include a form of the Sinner's Prayer.[271] His song "i" discusses his Christian faith.[272] He dressed up as Jesus for Halloween in 2014 and explained, "If I want to idolize somebody, I'm not going to do a scary monster, I'm not gonna do another artist or a human being—I'm gonna idolize the Master, who I feel is the Master, and try to walk in His light. It's hard, it's something I probably could never do, but I'm gonna try. Not just with the outfit but with everyday life. The outfit is just the imagery, but what's inside me will display longer."[273] His 2017 album Damn has a recurring theme based around religion and struggle.[274]

During the 2012 presidential election, Lamar stated, "I don't vote. I don't do no voting, I will keep it straight up real with you. I don't believe in none of the shit that's going on in the world."[275] He went on to say that voting was useless: "When I say the president can't even control the world, then you definitely know there's something else out there pushing the buttons. They could do whatever they want to do, we['re] all puppets."[276] Several days before the 2012 presidential election, he reversed his previous claim that he was not going to vote and said that he was voting for Barack Obama because Mitt Romney did not have a "good heart".[277] Lamar later met Obama in January 2016 in promotion of Obama's My Brother's Keeper Challenge. Speaking about the meeting, Lamar said, "We tend to forget that people who've attained a certain position are human."[278] Before the meeting, Obama said in an interview that his favorite song of 2015 was Lamar's "How Much a Dollar Cost".[279]

Discography

Studio albums

Filmography

Television work by Kendrick Lamar
Year Title Role Notes
2018 Power[280] Laces Episode: "Happy Birthday"

Concert tours

Headlining
Co-headlining
Supporting

External links


https://www.rollingstone.com/music/music-features/kendrick-lamar-the-rolling-stone-interview-199817/
 
Home Music Music Features
 

Kendrick Lamar: The Rolling Stone Interview

The greatest rapper alive goes deep on his obsessive studio habits, what Bono taught him and the temptations of stardom

kendrick lamar the humble king rolling stone

In a candid, in-depth interview with Rolling Stone, Kendrick Lamar goes deep on bridging the pop/hip-hop divide, working with Bono, the pitfalls of stardom and more.  Mark Seliger for Rolling Stone

Kendrick Lamar has a lot going on right now, but you’d never know it. Backstage in Duluth, Georgia, a few hours before his latest sold-out arena show, he’s radiating unearthly levels of clear-eyed serenity from his perch on a dressing-room couch. He’s wearing a peach sweatsuit and white Nikes, and carrying a plastic cup of green juice – “a little kale, apple, spinach. Shit good.” The fuel must work: He has a Number One pop hit with “HUMBLE.,” an elaborate video with Rihanna about to drop, a couple of dozen tour dates left to go.

kendrick lamar the humble king rolling stone cover

Freakish things keep happening in 2017, most of them awful, but at least one anomaly is for the better. Popular music’s most exciting and innovative young artist – the best rapper of his generation, and that’s just the start – has somehow become one of its biggest. And Lamar landed there without compromise, after releasing three classic albums in a row.

His major-label debut, 2012’s good kid, m.A.A.d city, was vivid autobiography, a virtuosic deconstruction of gangsta rap centered around tales of a childhood in Compton, where many of his friends were gangbangers and police harassment was a constant threat. The follow-up, 2015’s To Pimp a Butterfly, was a dense, cerebral, jazzy, dazzling meditation on race in America that spawned one of the decade’s most important songs, the Black Lives Matter anthem “Alright” – but no radio smashes. On his latest, this year’s DAMN., he switched lanes, managing to make an LP that’s just as smart and conceptual, but tighter, hookier and more accessible.

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Lamar, 30, is pleased with his recent commercial triumphs, but says it’s not the goal: “If I can make one person – or 10 million people – feel a certain type of euphoria in my music, that’s the whole point.”

You rapped about teenage dreams of “livin’ life like rappers do” – but your own life as a rapper has turned out to be pretty sedate. What are your vices at this point?
My biggest vice is being addicted to the chase of what I’m doing. It turns into a vice when I shut off people that actually care for me, because I’m so indulged spreading this word. Being on that stage, knowing that you’re changing people’s lives, that’s a high. Sometimes, when you’re pressing so much to get something across to a stranger, you forget people that are closer to you. That’s a vice.

Do you ever feel like you should be having more fun?
Everybody’s fun is different. Mine is not drinking. I drink casually, from time to time. I like to get people from my neighborhood, someone that’s fresh out of prison for five years, and see their faces when they go to New York, when they go out of the country. Shit, that’s fun for me. You see it through their eyes and you see ’em light up.

People treat you like you’re a saint or a monk, which must be weird.
But the people closest to me really know who I am. They get all of the versions.

Is there maybe something of the monk about you, though?
I guess that can go back to when I was a kid. It felt like I was always in my own head. I still got that nature. I’m always thinking. I’m always meditating on the present or the future.

Was there a sense that you were special as a kid?
From what my family tells me, I carried myself as a man – that’s why they called me “Man Man.” It put a stigma on the idea of me reacting as a kid sometimes – I would hurt myself and they would expect me not to cry. That put a lot of responsibility on me, got me ready for the responsibility my fans put upon me. I ended up getting tough skin, too, even with criticism. My first time in the studio, [label chief] Top Dawg was like, “Man, that shit wack.” Other artists around couldn’t handle that. But it made me go back in the booth and go harder.

Where did all that maturity come from?
It just came from being around older motherfuckers, man. I was seven years old playing tackle football with 14-year-olds. Anybody my older cousins was hanging with, that’s who I wanted to hang with. I’ve always been short [chuckles]. Everybody was always bigger and older than me. It gave me insight on people.

You’ve said you were one of the only ones among your friends with a dad around  and at the end of the new album you suggest that may have saved your life. How so?
It taught me how to deal with [pauses] … emotions. Better than a lot of my peers. When you see kids doing things that the world calls harmful or a threat, it’s because they don’t know how to deal with their emotions. When you have a father in your life, you do something, he’ll look at you and say, “What the fuck is you doing?” Putting you in your place. Making you feel this small. That was a privilege for me. My peers, their mothers and grandmothers may have taught them the love and the care, but they couldn’t teach them that.

What makes you lose your temper?
People that are around me that are energy-suckers or someone that is not driven the same way I’m driven. Can’t have that around me. Life is too short.

You have that line “Shit I’ve been through probably offend you,” and you do that rundown of “murder, conviction, burners. …”
I can’t tell you the shit that I’ve been through without telling you the shit that I’ve been through. I’m gonna say, “I know murder, conviction, burners, boosters, burglars, dead, redemption, scholars, fathers dead.” I’m-a give you a breakdown of my life from the time I was born all the way till I was 21.

There’s a certain amount of trauma implicit in the stories you tell – you witnessed murders, even as a little kid. How much have you grappled with it as an adult?
Well, you know, it was also just a lot of mothafuckin’ parties and a lot of humor, which sometimes blocks the fucked-up shit that I’ve seen. All of the funny shit with my crazy-ass uncles and my pops – he’s funny as fuck. My mom’s a crazy-as-fuck, funny, loving person. These things countered the negative shit, helped me to be able to understand tragedy, but not break from it.

What makes you laugh now?
Shit, everything makes me laugh. Everything. This guy right here [points to his videographer]? He got something under his hat that makes me bust up laughing every time he takes it off. I didn’t even know God invented hairlines like that. That shit is terrible [laughs]! I always say that the best entertainers have to have the most wickedest sense of humor, to be able to take pain and change it into laughter.

Other than a few lyrics, you’ve been quiet about Donald Trump. Why?
I mean, it’s like beating a dead horse. We already know what it is. Are we gonna keep talking about it or are we gonna take action? You just get to a point where you’re tired of talking about it. It weighs you down and it drains your energy when you’re speaking about something or someone that’s completely ridiculous. So, on and off the album, I took it upon myself to take action in my own community. On the record, I made an action to not speak about what’s going on in the world or the places they put us in. Speak on self; reflection of self first. That’s where the initial change will start from.

kendrick lamar the humble king rolling stone cover barack obama white house

In your mock interview with Tupac on “Mortal Man,” you asked him how he kept his sanity in the face of success. What’s your answer to that question?
Things could be worse. That’s how I look at it. I always go back to that – food stamps and welfare and being evicted out of house rentals. I still got family that go through hard times, and I have to look out for them. Think of it like this: This lifestyle I live now has only been, what, five years. Since 2012. Before that, it was a whole two decades of not knowing what’s next to come. I still have that embedded in me. So I can’t let my career get the best of me.

On “ELEMENT.” you make that funny distinction between “black artists and wack artists.” What, to you, defines a wack artist?
I love that question. How would I define a wack artist? A wack artist uses other people’s music for their approval. We’re talking about someone that is scared to make their own voice, chases somebody else’s success and their thing, but runs away from their own thing. That’s what keeps the game watered-down. Everybody’s not going to be able to be a Kendrick Lamar. I’m not telling you to rap like me. Be you. Simple as that. I watch a lot of good artists go down like that because you’re so focused on what numbers this guy has done, and it dampers your own creativity. Which ultimately dampers the listener, because at the end of the day, it’s not for us. It’s for the person driving to their 9-to-5 that don’t feel like they wanna go to work that morning.

Is it ever OK for a rapper to have a ghostwriter? You’ve obviously written verses for Dr. Dre yourself.
It depends on what arena you’re putting yourself in. I called myself the best rapper. I cannot call myself the best rapper if I have a ghostwriter. If you’re saying you’re a different type of artist and you don’t really care about the art form of being the best rapper, then so be it. Make great music. But the title, it won’t be there.

If it turned out that you somehow had a ghostwriter, people would really want to meet that guy.
[Laughs] You’re right.

Every time you open your mouth to rhyme, you have to uphold that reputation, live up to your own boasts. How do you deal with that?
Well, that’s the challenge that keeps me going. Can I outdo myself again? Can I make a better rhyme than I made last time? That’s the whole chase. If that wasn’t there, then I’d have stopped after good kid, after I had my first platinum album. But, you know, you see Jay-Z [chuckles]. He’s a billionaire. You see Dr. Dre. Jay is still on his pen game, because it’s always a chase to see if you’re not only still true to the culture, but still can generate a creative process that’s organic for you, that can challenge yourself.

Do you ever worry about running out of words?
Nah, man. I can’t even think about that. Not now. Not right now. Definitely not.

How did Bono end up on the song “XXX.”?
We had a [different] record we were supposed to be doing together. He sent it over, I laid some ideas to it, and we didn’t know where it was going. I just happened to have an album coming out, so I just asked him, like, “Yo, would you do me this honor of letting me use this record, use this idea that I want to put together because I’m hearing a certain type of 808, a certain drum to it.” And he was open to it.

So you kind of cannibalized an existing song and stuck it in, which you do from time to time.
I can do that. It just has to make sense. There’s a lot of great records and great features that the world probably will never hear, because it just didn’t feel right, no matter how big the name was on it. But Bono has so much wisdom and so much knowledge, in music and in life. Sitting on the phone with him, I could talk to him for hours. The things he’s doing around the world, of just helping people, is inspiring.

Your own trip to Africa, you said, was a really big deal for you. Why?
It just felt like a place where I belonged. It was as simple as that. You hear about the land and you hear untold truths about it, and now you’re old enough to witness it yourself. It just gave me a whole other perspective on where I’m from. What we’re doing in the city of Compton and how the world is just so much bigger than the city of Compton. It just followed me back to the studio. It felt weird when we had to leave and get back on that flight. We all said the same thing, like, “Damn, we gonna go back to the city. This is home, for real.”

kendrick lamar the humble king rolling stone cover jay z basketball game

In South Africa, you went to the prison where Nelson Mandela was jailed, right?
We sat inside the actual cell. We saw the stones that they had to dig up day to day. That was crazy. You could feel their spirits there, basically saying, “Take a piece of the story back to your community.” That’s exactly what I did. To Pimp a Butterfly, which is me talking to my homeboys with the knowledge and the wisdom that I gained.

What went through your head sitting in Mandela’s cell?
How strong this man was. If you could see this cell, man. And they’re laying on the floor, a cold floor. To still be able to carry out a message and socially move your people from inside that cell, you just gotta be a strong individual.

How did “HUMBLE.” start?
It was the beat first, actually. [Producer] Mike Will sent the beat over. All I could think of was [Marley Marl’s] “The Symphony” and the earliest moments of hip-hop, where it’s complex simplicity, but it’s also somebody making moves. That beat feels like my generation, right now. The first thing that came to my head was, “Be humble.”

Who are you talking to in the chorus – yourself?
Definitely. It’s the ego. When you look at the song titles on this album, these are all my emotions and all my self-expressions of who I am. That’s why I did a song like that, where I just don’t give a fuck, or I’m telling the listener, “You can’t fuck with me.” But ultimately, I’m looking in the mirror.

You have a Number One record, which means, on some level, you’re a pop artist.
It gets tricky because you can have that one big record, but you can still have that integrity at the same time. Not many can do it … wink-wink [laughs]. Still have them raps going crazy on that album and have a Number One record, wink-wink. Call it whatever you want to call it. As long as the artist remains true to the craft of hip-hop and the culture of it, it is what it is.

The track “LOVE.” is probably another hit – it’s the poppiest thing you’ve ever done. But you must draw a line somewhere where things get too soft for you.
We call it ear candy. There’s ear candy, and then there’s corny. You have to have an incredible ear to recognize it and an incredible team to recognize it, to know the differences. It takes years of experience. Years of making wack shit [laughs], and knowing what works for you, and also knowing when to step out of your box and try things that feel good and still can remain you.

Have you recorded songs where you’re like, “That sounds like a Number One hit, but it’s corny – I’m never putting that out”?
For sure. I’ve done stuff just freestyling shit on a mic and it could be a possible smash, but just for the sake of my brand and where I want it to go, sometimes you’ve gotta look for the long run, rather than what’s right in front of you.

Do you also reject songs just because they don’t fit the album concept?
I’ve done that a lot. I care about the body of work, not just a big single. I come from that era. I can’t shake it, either, no matter how big streaming gets. With streaming, you just gotta have great songs.

How consciously were you trying to make “DAMN.” a more accessible album than “Butterfly”?
The initial goal was to make a hybrid of my first two commercial albums. That was our total focus, how to do that sonically, lyrically, through melody – and it came out exactly how I heard it in my head. … It’s all pieces of me. My musicality has been driving me since I was four years old. It’s just pieces of me, man, and how I execute it is the ultimate challenge. Going from To Pimp a Butterfly to DAMN., that shit could have crashed and burned if it wasn’t executed right. So I had to be real careful on my subject matter and how I weave in and out of the topics, where it still organically feels like me.

When you did the “Bad Blood” remix with Taylor Swift, were you aware that you were taking sides in a pop beef – since she was apparently addressing Katy Perry?
[Through laughter] No, I wasn’t aware of that, bro. That’s a great question. No! On the record, no. Which makes it even more funny now, for sure. That’s far beyond my concern. I have to stay away from that, for sure. That’s some real beef [laughs].

What did you learn working with Beyoncé on Lemonade?
How particular to be about your music. She’s a perfectionist. Think about the BET performance. She was very particular – the lighting, the camera blocking, the transition from the music to the dancing. It was confirmation of something I already knew.

Your videos keep getting more ambitious – have you gotten acting offers?
Yeah, definitely. But I’d have to be 110,000 percent in. That’s a skill, a talent that people perfect with years of rehearsing. For me to just jump in because I’m Kendrick Lamar, I’m not taking that pat on the back. I’ll wait until I’m able to take some time off and study the craft. And right now, I be more sliding onto the side of directing.

In music, you seem to think like a producer, even if you don’t give yourself those credits.
I’ll tell you this: You can’t make them type of albums just by producers sending you beats. You have to be in the grit with ’em. You’ve gotta be there on every snare, every 808, every transition, every arrangement. You just have to study and be in the nook of it. I’m there for the whole process. That’s one of the reasons why I can formulate that cohesiveness.

But someone like Future pretty much raps over the beats he gets, and he’s great in his own way. You two are so different, so it was interesting to hear you on the “Mask Off” remix.
He’s his own genius. I’ve watched him in the studio. The way he comes up with the melodies is [snaps fingers] like that, you know. You have to speak a certain type of language and also have a great study in music – the same way I have – for what he’s done. I’m sure he’s grown up off a ton of R&B. Watching him come up with the melodies, that’s a whole other ballgame, to understand them sonics.

What’s your favorite Drake song?
Favorite Drake song [chuckles]. I got a lot of favorite Drake songs. Can’t name one off the back. … He has plenty.

Do you prefer him singing or rapping?
Both. Yeah.

On your earliest mixtape, from when you were 16, there are points where you sound just like Jay-Z.
Oh, yeah. That was my guy. Still is. I’m still a fan. That was just a page I took out of his book, to be able to carry a lyric through conversation and make it feel like I’m sitting right here talking to you.

When did you truly find your own style?
I think it was the day I said I was gonna go by my real name, Kendrick Lamar.

Instead of K-Dot?
Yeah. And really just tell my story. Once I did that, it was easier for me to find my own voice, because nobody can tell my story the way I tell it.

kendrick lamar the humble king rolling stone cover live

In 2010, you recorded “The Heart Pt. 2,” which was a breakthrough in its emotional honesty. How did that happen?
I remember saying to myself, “I just wanna show a spew of emotion on a record. I don’t care how long the bars are, but people are literally gonna have to feel me.” I told myself that if I can’t connect that way, then it ain’t no point in me just putting a bunch of good words together. So that spaz-out toward the end, where I just choke up and lose my breath – I wanna keep all that.

You can work yourself up into a state in the studio. Do you ever freak yourself out?
The irony in that is I do freak myself out, because you go somewhere emotionally and then you damn near become a robot to the emotion. You want to keep on doing takes over and over. That’s when you really zone out and when you really connect with the audience. They can hear that shit in the booth, just like in Eminem’s “The Way I Am,” Jay-Z’s “Song Cry,” Tupac’s “Dear Mama.” You can tell those stories and those ideas really hit home for them.

A lot of people think that lyrical virtuosity, having bars, isn’t as valued in hip-hop as it once was. Do you agree?
I made my mark at a right point in time, man – 2011 and 2012, it was just that window where fans wanted to hear lyricism. You could probably step in the game today with lyricism. But it may not be as respected, because the times have changed so dramatically.

You’ve also suggested that critics don’t value lyricism as much as they claim to.
You know, hip-hop has a lot of hypocritical aspects of it, when you’re talking about lyrics. There’s a thousand rappers that can give you bars out there. But the local DJ isn’t gonna spin that, no matter how much of a classic golden era he comes from, because he also has to make money at the end of the day. That’s just the truth of the matter.

Was it André 3000 who first got it in your head that rappers can sing?
For my generation, it would
 definitely have to be AndrĂ© 3000. He was the first guy. We’d come home from school and he’d be rapping on TV one day, then you came home a week later and he has a song called “Prototype,” which just blows our mind away, you dig what I’m sayin’?

Do you have songs that we’ve never heard that are just singing?
Straight melody-driven, for sure. Ultimately, that’s practice for me on my rap albums. I write a lot of the melodies. Shit, usually 95 percent. May jump in and jump out. Might give you a hook like “ELEMENT.” Might give you a verse on a Travis Scott record with the “ghetto falsetto.” That’s what I call it [laughs]. That’s just me flirting with the idea of being able to take it there.

Your falsetto sounds a bit like Curtis Mayfield’s. Are you a fan?
Definitely. That was my father’s favorite. My mother’s favorite, actually.

Your cousin Carl is a member of the Hebrew Israelites, who believe that African-Americans are the true descendants of the biblical Israelites. Carl pops up in a voicemail on “FEAR.” You call yourself an Israelite on the album. How much of his theology have you embraced, and how much of it is just you playing with the ideas?
Everything that I say on that record is from his perspective. That’s always been my thing. Always listen to people’s history and their background. It may not be like mine, it may not be like yours. It was taking his perspective on the world and life as a people and putting it to where people can listen to it and make their own perspective from it, whether you agree or you don’t agree. That’s what I think music is for. It’s a mouthpiece.

So what’s your opinion about the idea that Carl brings up, that black people are cursed by God as per Deuteronomy?
That shit’s truth. There’s so many different ways to interpret it, but it’s definitely truth when you’re talking about unity in our community and some of the things we have no control over. Where there’s fighting against the government, where there’s fighting against our own political views, there’s always a higher being, right there willing to stop it.

It could be argued that blaming a curse from God kind of excuses a racist system.
Right. You take it how you wanna take it. The conversation’s there. We can sit and talk about it all day. I do, all day [laughs].

When you see a sea of white kids rapping back the lyrics to something like “Blacker the Berry,” what do you make of that?
With my listener, I know they actually hear what I’m saying, and I’m speaking for a whole culture of people. So for the suburban kid who doesn’t know how we grew up, or the history of my people, hearing them lyrics, they get to understand. It’s almost like a history lesson that wasn’t taught to them in school.

You’ve spoken of struggling with depression. Is that still with you?
Um, as of now, I’m cool. I won’t say I’m content. I don’t want that word. I’m not satisfied yet. But as far as having a sense of personal stress to that level, no. That’s a good space because I can now listen to my listeners’ struggles and help them.

But you understand why so many artists end up self-destructing?
Oh, no, that’s easy. Especially in this lifestyle. Everything is at your reach, whatever you want, whatever you need. When them cameras is on you, anything you need. But who you really are is when the lights cut off. It’s all about how much discipline you have.

Are you optimistic or pessimistic about the future?
I’m mothafuckin’ optimistic for sure. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t! Come on, man, this shit don’t happen to everybody. Almost all of my best friends are in prison. Forty years plus. Every show, they wanna see pictures. They tell me, “You gotta be optimistic as fuck to be where you at. We didn’t have that. The glass was always halfway empty.” And it’s not just being optimistic. It’s really about being responsible. You can talk about dreams all day and “what I want,” but you gotta put an action behind it.

But you’ve also wondered aloud whether we’re living in the End Times.
I balance that by giving of myself as much as possible, in the hope to pass along to the next generation, or however many generations it is to go, the knowledge  that I have. Given whatever fucked-up situation that we’re in, it’s all about the evolution of man. People get it fucked up because they think it’s the physical form. No, it’s evolution of the mind. So, as long as I’m dedicating
myself fully to my potential and this gift, there’s nothing else to think about. I can go to sleep peacefully. I can check out with a peaceful conscience.

Watch below: Mosi Reeves reviews Kendrick Lamar’s underground output from 2004’s ‘The Hub City Threat’ to 2010’s ‘OD: Overly Dedicated’

In This Article: Brian Hiatt, Hip-Hop, Kendrick Lamar

https://www.interviewmagazine.com/music/kendrick-lamar-cover

Kendrick Lamar by Dave Chappelle

 

Is it wickedness?
Is it weakness?

This couplet, which opens DAMN., the latest album from Kendrick Lamar, cuts right to the quick of the powerful anxiety that is so prevalent in all of his work: Am I strong enough spiritually? Physically? Is what I am doing right? Good?

These are universal concerns, of course, but acutely felt by one on whom such great expectations are placed. From early on, maybe even from the time of his first mixtape in 2004, when he was only 16, Lamar was a rapper with profound potential. After a series of star-making appearances on other artists’ songs, Lamar was, in 2011—even before the release of a proper major label album of his own—already being hailed as the best rapper on the West Coast. When it did arrive the next year on Dr. Dre’s Aftermath imprint at Interscope, good kid, m.A.A.d city only emboldened that opinion. In due course, the album went platinum and Lamar was nominated for seven Grammys while being vaulted out of his native Compton, California, to go on Kanye West’s Yeezus tour. GKMC also probably set in motion the endless comparisons of Lamar to Tupac, as well as the ongoing debate about whether he is the greatest rapper alive.

That’s a lot. But if it was Lamar’s soaring ambition and lyrical talent that made him particularly great, it is his honest introspection in verse and the clarity with which he has described his interior life that have made him sublime. His next album, 2015’s To Pimp a Butterfly, is nearly neurotic with its naked fears about losing out to the devil (or “Lucy,” as he called the evil that tempts him); about letting down his hometown; and about approaching escape—velocity fame and wealth, which might, as it did for Tupac, rocket Lamar out of reach from any sense of community, family, or belonging.

In signature fashion, the 30-year-old faced his fears head on. He came home and put Compton, the Coast, and everyone else on his back to make DAMN., a dazzling and utterly singular album that he says he recorded—and is presently touring—to bring comfort and strength to the rest of us. “LeBron James or the little boy around the corner,” Lamar tells Dave Chappelle, a comedian and cultural critic who knows a thing or two about greatness. “We come from the same struggles, and it comes out of my mouth for them to relate to.”

And if what does come out is, despite all of Lamar’s successes, still fraught with self-conscious anxiety, it seems to support the old truism popularly attributed to Bertrand Russell: “The whole problem with the world is that fools and fanatics are always so certain of themselves, and wiser people”—or, we might say, the truly righteous and brave—”so full of doubts.”

DAVE CHAPPELLE: Kendrick.

KENDRICK LAMAR: Dave. What’s going on, brother?

CHAPPELLE: The last time I saw you was in Australia with J. Cole—you had just performed with Eminem. A lot’s happened since then.

LAMAR: Definitely. How you been?

CHAPPELLE: I’ve been great. I want to start by asking you about a recent scandal in the comedy world: Kathy Griffin and the picture of her holding Donald Trump’s decapitated head. My question for you is not about politics, but about the content in your work. In comedy right now, the issue is, “When does a comedian go too far?” And I imagine in hip-hop that’s been a long-standing debate—even when I was coming up, when Bill Clinton went after Sister Souljah. When you write, how much do you think about the repercussions of anything you might say?

LAMAR: When I look at comedy—at Richard Pryor, at you—it’s all self-expression. I apply that same method to my music. I came up listening to N.W.A and Snoop. Like them, it’s in me to express how I feel. You might like it or you might not, but I take that stand.

CHAPPELLE: I have this thing when I write jokes; I call it my unseen audience. I’ll think of certain people when I’m writing certain types of jokes. For instance: “What would my mother say?” Who do you think about when you write? Are you thinking about the streets? A lot of your work is openly spiritual and contemplative.

LAMAR: I really focus on what my fans will take from it, people living their day-to-day lives. At the end of the day, the music isn’t for me; it’s for people who are going through their struggles and want to relate to someone who feels the same way they do. I’ve got to take Mom out of the equation. I’ve got to go all-in, expressing myself, right there in the moment.

CHAPPELLE: What did you think when LeBron James, after an amazing, clutch performance [in a historic, 26-point comeback win during the playoffs], was like, “I just listened to DAMN. and got amped.”

LAMAR: Moments like that … If I hadn’t expressed myself in the studio, who’s to say he would have been listening to the album? LeBron James or the little boy around the corner, we come from the same struggles, and it comes out of my mouth for them to relate to.

CHAPPELLE: I know you’re a big Tupac fan. And Tupac used to talk about this phenomenon, as he got successful, that he was out of context. He’d say, “Where am I supposed to go? I can’t be around the ‘hood anymore, and they don’t want me in the Hollywood Hills. Where am I supposed to go?” Have you run into any altitude sickness from your ascent, fighting all the way up to where you are now?

LAMAR: I think I’m still growing. The more people I meet, the more cultures I start to embrace, the more people I open myself up to—it’s a growing process I’m excited about. But it’s also a challenge for me, to be at this level and still be able to connect with somebody who’s living that everyday life. At first it was something I struggled with, because everything was moving so fast. I didn’t know how to digest it. The best thing I did was go back to the city of Compton, to touch the people who I grew up with and tell them the stories of the people I met around the world. Making To Pimp a Butterfly was me navigating those experiences. I went to Africa and I was like, “This is something I can enjoy and something I can challenge myself with.”

CHAPPELLE: Was Africa your “Oh, shit, I made it” moment?

LAMAR: I went to South Africa—Durban, Cape Town, Johannesburg—and those were definitely the “I’ve arrived” shows. Outside of the money, the success, the accolades … This is a place that we, in urban communities, never dream of. We never dream of Africa. Like, “Damn, this is the motherland.” You feel it as soon as you touch down. That moment changed my whole perspective on how to convey my art.

CHAPPELLE: Me and Mos Def argue about this all the time. Mos is of the belief that a person with a platform has a responsibility to other people. It’s the old adage, “To whom much is given, much is expected.” I don’t necessarily agree with that. I think some people can make conscious records, and some people can make booty records, and other people can make whatever the fuck they want records. But what do you feel, personally, when you’re making a record? Do you have a mission statement? What, if anything, do you hope to accomplish with your platform?

LAMAR: As I’ve grown as an artist, I’ve learned that my mission statement is really self-expression. I don’t want anybody to classify my music. I want them to say, “This is somebody who’s recognizing his true feelings, his true emotions, ideas, thoughts, opinions, and views on the world, all on one record.” I want people to recognize that and to take it and apply it to their own lives. You know what I’m saying? The more and more I get out and talk to different people, I realize they appreciate that—me being unapologetic in whatever views and approach I have.

CHAPPELLE: That’s the way I like to do it, as well: go for broke. It feels better to just say it. Is “Duckworth” [a track on DAMN. in which Lamar narrates the story of his father, “Ducky,” preventing an armed robbery, as well as his own potential murder, at the KFC where he was then working to provide for Lamar] a true story?

LAMAR: True story, and one of my favorite records on the album.

CHAPPELLE: A profound story, too. I like the meditation of it.

LAMAR: The idea that I wanted to put across from that event was one of perspective. Everybody has their own perspective, and recognizing someone else’s perspective blows my mind a hundred thousand percent. The way that event unfolded … I had to sit down and ask my pops, “What was your perspective at the moment?” And, “Did you ever think it would come around full circle like that?” That always fascinated me.

CHAPPELLE: Is it strange to hear people interpret your lyrics, the depth that they find in your work? The week the album came out, all these kids were telling me about digging into the songs and picking out clues. I don’t think every artist is listened to that way.

LAMAR: Everybody has their own way of hearing songs. My fans are usually pretty on point. Sometimes they go all the way to the bottom of it. It’s fascinating to me how far an idea can go. I wrote most of my first album in my mom’s kitchen, and now I can go around the world and hear people recite those lyrics, and understand the story, even though they’re not from the same area I grew up in.

CHAPPELLE: How did you feel putting out the new album? Sometimes you put something out and you don’t know what it’s going to do. But other times—like a Steph Curry shot—it just feels good when the wrist snaps, and it’s like, “Oh, this shit’s going in.” Are you having fun?

LAMAR: Definitely. I’m enjoying that people aren’t only listening to the album, but hearing the album. To go on that stage and perform that record, that’s the most fun I have. I get a full party every night.

CHAPPELLE: Do you develop a lot of new material from touring?

LAMAR: It comes from everywhere. I think now it initially starts on tour. I like to talk to people; I don’t care if it’s a kid or an 80-year-old woman, I talk to people. Then I return to the studio and see what comes together at the end of the day—but it’s definitely a process.

CHAPPELLE: It seems like you maintain your relationships well, that you’re paying attention to them. Have the changes in your lifestyle made it harder to do that?

LAMAR: It will never be easy. There are so many people pulling at me at one time—some want the business, some want my love, some just want my support, just to be there or to acknowledge them the same way I used to. To be able to figure that out is an ongoing process, because there’s always another show, another album, another moment that I don’t want to miss. But I’m pacing myself. I hope the powers that be keep me on a straight course.

CHAPPELLE: From the outside looking in, you’re doing beautifully, man. Your work is great, and you seem grounded and centered and focused. When I was your age, I used to fuck up all the time. [laughs] Hopefully, I can catch one of your shows on the road. I’ve heard nothing but good things. As a matter of fact, the first time I heard about you was through Mos, who told me years ago, “You’ve got to watch this kid.”

LAMAR: Mos gave me a lot of game early on. A lot of game.

CHAPPELLE: He said to me that you’re the one. Turns out he was right.


ABOUT THE INTERVIEWER:

DAVE CHAPELLE IS A COMEDIAN, ACTOR, WRITER, AND CO-CREATOR OF CHAPPELLE’S SHOW, WHICH AIRED FROM 2003 TO 2006. HIS STAND-UP SPECIALS THE AGE OF SPIN AND DEEP IN THE HEART OF TEXAS WERE RELEASED ON NEFTLIX EARLIER THIS YEAR.

https://www.theguardian.com/music/2015/jun/21/kendrick-lamar-interview-to-pimp-a-butterfly-trayvon-martin

Interview

Kendrick Lamar: ‘I am Trayvon Martin. I’m all of these kids’

Kendrick Lamar photographed in London this month for the Observer New Review.
‘I’ve been conflicted since I was a little boy’: Kendrick Lamar photographed in London this month by Ellis Parrinder for the Observer New Review.
 
The Compton rapper’s politically charged album To Pimp a Butterfly has been widely hailed as a modern masterpiece. Here he talks about the difficulty of coming to terms with his past, and why addressing serious issues is a matter of integrity

21 Mar 2018 

The Guardian  (UK)

Last year, the director of the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention presented research demonstrating that “youth living in inner cities show a higher prevalence of post-traumatic stress disorder than soldiers”. The report estimates that 30% of young people in urban “combat zones” suffer from some form of PTSD.

When I mention this to Kendrick Lamar, he nods and says: “That’s real.” Recently, he was making the video for his new single, Alright, when he was startled by a loud bang. In a split second the successful 28-year-old rapper disappeared and the wary teenager from the streets of Compton, California resurfaced.

“I don’t know if somebody threw a rocket at a trash can or what, but it made a loud-ass popping sound and everybody who was in the car with me ducked,” he remembers. “The instinct to get out the way when you hear a popping sound, that’s real for me. I’m sure it’s real for a lot of artists who grew up in neighbourhoods like that.”

Hip-hop is obsessed with the distance between Then and Now. The ambitious MC’s path from violence and deprivation to fame and wealth is the genre’s ur-narrative. But nobody has unpacked the implications of that transition as thoroughly as Kendrick does on his remarkable third studio album, To Pimp a Butterfly.

When it came out in March, it felt like the album hip-hop had been waiting for. On the review aggregator website Metacritic it is one of the most acclaimed albums ever with a 96% score. One critic called it “The Great American Hip-Hop Album”. Recently, Kendrick visited a New Jersey high school where the album was being used to teach students about “the dichotomy of black culture in America” and accepted a Generational Icon award from the California state senate.

When we meet, Kendrick heads the Billboard top 100 via a guest verse on Taylor Swift’s single Bad Blood. I wonder what a listener who discovers him that way will make of an album as dense, relentless and discomfiting as To Pimp a Butterfly.

“I don’t know,” he says, smiling. “I know it’ll be challenging for a listener who doesn’t know my music. The process of me making it is the same process the listener’s going to have to deal with, and that’s rolling with it. I had to roll with this record for two years but it was a fun experience. That’s the place I’m putting the listener in.”

Kendrick Lamar - King Kunta video.

With 2012’s good kid, mAAd city, an audacious concept album about his dicey adolescence, Kendrick brought a leftfield sensibility to a mainstream platform and became hip-hop’s new hero: tough, agile, erudite and questioning. The album earned him a platinum disc, four Grammy nominations, fans including Kanye West, Chris Rock and Taylor Swift, and guest verses for everyone from Eminem and 50 Cent to Imagine Dragons and Dido. It also triggered a profound spiritual crisis.

If good kid, mAAd city was a bildungsroman then To Pimp a Butterfly (among other things, it’s a riff on Harper Lee and a metaphor for art versus commerce) is a morality play. When Kendrick’s mentor, Dr Dre, pops up on the first song to say, “Remember, anybody can get it. But the hard part is keeping it,” he misses the point. Kendrick is interested in interrogating what “it” means. For him, success is a minefield of temptation and responsibility that he didn’t foresee. On the album he labels himself a “fucking failure” and a “hypocrite” who suffers from “survivor’s guilt”, before describing how he rediscovered his equilibrium.

What lifts the album out of that charmless category of musicians moaning about fame is the depth of Kendrick’s insight and the way he relates it to the broader African-American experience. This is hip-hop with a capacious sense of history, influenced by George Clinton and Miles Davis, James Brown and Sly Stone, Ralph Ellison and Alex Haley. Emotionally, it runs the gamut. When Kendrick released the Grammy-winning track i last year, with its sunny Isley Brothers guitar loop and self-affirming chorus of “I love myself”, some fans worried that he’d gone soft, but on To Pimp a Butterfly it’s revealed as a necessary counterweight to the brutally self-lacerating u, in which he tells himself “everything is your fault”. One recurring word sums up both the record and the man who made it: “conflicted”.

“It’s really about me trying to balance these worlds – where I used to be and where I am today – from all different angles,” he says. “This album was therapy for me. I was looking at myself in the mirror and trying to figure out who I really am.”

Kendrick isn’t just smaller than I expected (he’s 5ft 6in and slight) but quieter and gentler, too, with none of the gruff intensity you hear on a song like King Kunta. When he visits the Observer office, fresh off the red-eye from Washington DC, he keeps a low profile in black jeans, white trainers and a blue jacket, his hair twisted into braids. He carries himself like someone with nothing to prove. Up close, he has a certain aura but it’s something calmer and weightier than star quality.

At the same time he has a boyish, playful streak (his favourite food is Fruity Pebbles cereal) and is quick to smile. When we walk down the corridors of a nearby photo studio we pass a fish tank and Kendrick bangs on the glass, leaning in to watch the startled fish dart back and forth. He might be offering me a neat metaphor for sudden fame (he’s the fish) but I think he’s just mucking about. “When you enter the music industry, your life basically starts over,” he says later. “I’m still young and still learning.”

Kendrick Lamar - i video.

One reason that To Pimp a Butterfly has resonated so powerfully is timing. Its complex reflections on identity and racism landed in the wake of the Black Lives Matter movement and a string of cases in which unarmed black men died at the hands of the police. “The timing of both was kind of uncanny,” the R&B singer D’Angelo said recently, comparing it to his own similarly weighty and panoramic Black Messiah album. “It was almost a sign: motherfuckers are making some shit that’s relevant to the times.” But Kendrick started plotting the angriest song, The Blacker the Berry, long before his last album and wrote the first draft in a furious burst after 17-year-old Trayvon Martin was shot dead by vigilante George Zimmerman in February 2012.

“These are issues that if you come from that environment it’s inevitable to speak on,” he says in a studio dressing room, twanging a wodge of mint-green gum between his fingers. “It’s already in your blood because I am Trayvon Martin, you know. I’m all of these kids. It’s already implanted in your brain to come out your mouth as soon as you’ve seen it on the TV. I had that track way before that, from the beginning to the end, and the incident just snapped it for me.”

It’s often said that rappers are discouraged from speaking out about politics by a controversy-shy record industry but Kendrick isn’t buying it. “No, there’s no excuse,” he says. “It’s really just about integrity. We all like to have fun. I like to have fun, too. But where do you stop and say, ‘You know what? There’s actually some real shit going on out there that people can relate to more than any singalong I can bring to the table.’”

He pulls back, worried about sounding didactic. “It’s just about balance. I don’t fault other artists. I don’t say this person should be doing that. As conscious as my music sounds, I would never point the finger because every day I make mistakes.”

*****

When Kendrick Lamar Duckworth was a kid, his neighbourhood was notorious. In 1987, the year he was born, Compton became the deadliest city in California. When he was one, NWA immortalised it in Straight Outta Compton, gangsta rap’s big bang. When he was eight, Dr Dre and Tupac Shakur (whom Kendrick “interviews”, using an old audio recording, at the end of To Pimp a Butterfly) came to the neighbourhood to film the video for California Love. Kendrick was there.

He sighs at the memory. “Tupac in Compton, man! To kids, even grown men, he was like a superhero. I don’t know what gave him this aura but he had something else. Now I’m old enough to say I don’t think even he knew it.”

As the son of two Black Panther activists, Tupac was almost destined to make an impact, but Kendrick’s origins were more humble. Kenny Duckworth and Paula Oliver, whose voices can be heard on good kid, mAAd city, moved to Compton from the south side of Chicago in 1984 with just $500. Trying to escape gang violence, they migrated from the frying pan to the fire. Kendrick’s political awareness grew from what he saw rather than what he was told.

“My parents don’t come from the Black Panther side of Chicago,” says Kendrick, the oldest of four siblings. “They believe in certain things but they were just trying to manoeuvre through the cracks. Most of the things that I speak of now came from having my own theories and my own perspective on what’s going on in the community.”

Kendrick with his mentor and fellow Compton rapper, Dr Dre.
Kendrick with his mentor and fellow Compton rapper Dr Dre. Photograph: JABPromotions/Rex Shutterstock

Kendrick was a wise, watchful, self-contained child rather than a natural showboater. When he began rapping he was driven less by the desire to perform (he stuttered when he was nervous or excited) than by sheer love of words. “It was always the phrases,” he says with relish. “The wittiness, the clarity, how you manipulate words and make them mean other things. I practised the wording for a long time before I got the delivery down pat. I couldn’t be as intense as I can be now.”

Rapping “on the corners” made Kendrick popular and cured his stutter. He released his first mixtape, under the pseudonym K-Dot, in 2003, but there were a lot of distractions in Compton. Good kid, mAAd city (mAAd is an acronym for “My Angry Adolescence Divided”) documents the summer he turned 17 and fell in with a bad crowd, doing things he still won’t fully disclose. “Some things don’t need to be said.” But he says he wrote enough songs to fill a sequel, which tells you a lot about what he got up to and how it haunts him. He had seen his first murder victim when he was five and grown used to seeing the casualties of gang wars between Bloods and Crips but now it was his friends lying still on hospital gurneys, shot down by gang members or, in one case, a police officer.

He escaped that life thanks to family, faith and hip-hop. “It was the counterweight to peer pressure,” he says. “Whenever I wasn’t on the streets with my homeys I was in the studio. It was something that kept me out of trouble. So my mom would let me stay out till four in the morning because she knew I was doing that.”

Did he feel he had a good chance of making it as a rapper?

“Sometimes. It just depended on what type of day it was. If it was a day when I’m doing something constructive like being in the studio, yeah, I may feel like I can make it, but if it’s a day when I’m just hanging out and somebody drives by, starts shooting, and the bullet barely misses me but it hits the homey and kills him, I don’t feel like that no more. I’m back to reality. So, some days I did, some days I didn’t, but there were more days I didn’t.”

In his early 20s, Kendrick went for it “full force”, appearing on records by established stars Lil Wayne and the Game, and forming a collective called Black Hippy. In 2010 his fourth mixtape, Overly Dedicated, snagged the attention of Compton legend Dr Dre. The following year’s Section.80, a dual reference to the federal housing benefit scheme Section 8 and the generation born in the 1980s amid gang wars and Reagonomics, was a morally nuanced concept album about two women. Good kid, mAAd city, released through Dre’s Aftermath Entertainment, was an instant sensation, so universally admired that when the white rapper Macklemore beat Kendrick to the Grammy for best rap album he texted him, “It’s weird and sucks that I robbed you.”

‘You have so many different emotions you may not want to pour out on the microphone’: Kendrick Lamar onstage in Ottawa, 2013.
‘You have so many different emotions you may not want to pour out on the microphone’: Kendrick onstage in Ottawa, 2013. Photograph: Mark Horton/WireImage

Kendrick came up so fast that he got the bends. He describes the process on the poem that runs through To Pimp a Butterfly like a throbbing vein: “Resentment that turned into a deep depression/ Found myself screaming in the hotel room.” That’s a real incident, he says: “99% of my music is specific events.” He thinks the hotel was in Atlanta, which would make it December 2013, during his tour with Kanye West. What made him scream?

“It was something that just accumulated,” he says. “You know when you get bad news after bad news after bad news? And you can’t express this to nobody but you got to relieve it in some type of way? I was able to bottle that moment and put in on record.”

He had experienced depression as a teenager and now it was back, triggered by a combination of stress and guilt. He doesn’t like to talk about his problems anyway but he also felt that his friends wouldn’t understand. “You can tell them all day that it has its downside but if they’re doing bad financially they don’t want to hear that shit! They don’t understand that shit until they’re in it.”

Does he think other newly successful rappers feel similar discomfort and just don’t talk about it publicly?

“Oh, definitely. They’d be lying to you if they said they didn’t. I find myself to be quite confident as a person but you’re going to have that piece of doubt in the back of your head because we’re human. We all have it. It’s just I like to address it and not keep it bottled in, because I don’t know what it could turn into.”

Kendrick’s angst would have been easier to explain if he had been wrestling with a tangible side-effect of success – a drug addiction, a financial dispute, a media backlash – but it was all internal. Everything was strange and new. Being around white people for the first time made him insecure. Suddenly having big money made him discombobulated. I wonder how he felt, as someone who grew up on food stamps in Section 8 housing, when he got his first big paycheck.

“Man, I was so excited!” he says, lighting up. “I didn’t know what to do with it. To tell you the truth I wanted to spend it as fast as I could on whatever I dreamed about. The kid in me, the person who never had nothing growing up, is saying, ‘I want to spend this shit on some chains and a car,’ but the other side that’s on the records is telling me, ‘You need to think wisely.’ I’ve been conflicted like that since I was a little boy. Doing music is the only way for me to get that conflict out. You heard of Gemini? There’s always two sides.”

On the album, temptation is represented by a woman called Lucy, as in Lucifer. “Lucy is all the [things] that I was thinking of that I know can be detrimental to not only me but the people around me, and still be tempted by them. That’s some scary shit. It’s like looking at a bullet inside of a gun, knowing you can kill yourself with it, but you’re still picking it up and playing with it.”

What kind of things?

“Everything that we glorified in the hood – smoking, drinking, women, violence – was at my feet times 10. All of it’s there. In the neighbourhood we wanted to have power and with success comes power. That is temptation at its highest.”

Did he do anything he regretted?

“Uh, yeah, definitely. Not knowing how to utilise my power. I think a lot of the mistakes I made was influencing some of the cats that I grew up with.”

On the final song, Mortal Man, Kendrick raps: “As I lead this army make room for mistakes and depression.” The idea of leading an army might seem presumptuous, but the way Kendrick sees it the role isn’t optional.

“You got it whether you want it or not because you have thousands of people singing your songs every night,” he says. “Your friends at the side of the stage, they’re looking at you as somebody who made it. They’re following you. And every mistake that you make, they’re going to make the same mistakes.” Some people who were close to Tupac before his murder in 1996 have told Kendrick stories about the errors that his boyhood hero made: “his influence on his homeboys and the things he could have done”. He doesn’t want to repeat them.

Kendrick Lamar - Bitch, Don’t Kill My Vibe video.

Two months after his meltdown in Atlanta, Kendrick played three dates in South Africa and decided to stay for a week, visiting Nelson Mandela’s old cell on Robben Island. “It just snapped me back to reality,” he says. “It gave me a whole other perspective. The tricky part is explaining that bigger picture to those back in Compton. That’s some of the message I was trying to convey on this album.”

On the record he beats himself up for leaving his old community behind for a while. Did they resent him?

“No, they were proud of me. It’s funny, because when I talk to other rappers or hear their music, they always come from a place where the neighbourhood hates them now. I wouldn’t even try to say that. The people who grew up with me actually knew my struggle and say, ‘OK, that’s one kid who made it out.’”

*****

Kendrick is a remarkably clean-living rap star. He doesn’t take drugs, rarely drinks, lives modestly and recently got engaged to his high-school girlfriend, Whitney Alford (they live in a rented condo in South Bay, LA County). Apart from sugary cereal, does he have any vices at all?

“Selfishness,” he says straight away. “I can completely shut out everybody in my life that I care about because of my music. It becomes an addiction. You slowly forget about real love.” He seems genuinely bothered by this. “Maybe it’s just a personality trait that I [need to] work on because you hurt a lot of people’s feelings when you can’t tell them that you love them. That’s a huge flaw in my character, for sure.”

Kendrick considers To Pimp a Butterfly a moral record rather than a political one. The Blacker the Berry starts out as a scalding protest song (“You hate my people/ Your plan is to terminate my culture”) but Kendrick complicates it by adding a verse about black-on-black violence: “Why did I weep when Trayvon Martin was in the street/ When gangbanging make me kill a nigga blacker than me? Hypocrite!”

After he told Billboard magazine, “When we don’t respect ourselves, how do we expect them to respect us? It starts from within”, he was accused of indulging in respectability politics. Rapper Azealia Banks tweeted that it was the “dumbest shit I’ve ever heard a black man say”. Having experienced police brutality himself, Kendrick feels he has nothing to apologise for.

Kendrick with his high-school girlfriend, Whitney Alford. The couple recently got engaged.
Kendrick with his high-school girlfriend, Whitney Alford. The couple recently got engaged. Photograph: Christopher Polk

“They probably don’t know my music, or what I’ve been through, or what I’ve done for my community when I used that word respect. So I really couldn’t blame them for taking my words out of context.” What some people regard as respectability politics, Kendrick considers self-examination. “That last line, that’s the conflict in me growing up. That’s me knowing my own demons and trying to reverse the curse. That’s why it’s so important.”

He doesn’t mean metaphorical demons. Kendrick is deeply religious and was baptised a couple of years ago. “It just felt like something I had to do.” His conversion was sparked years earlier by a friend’s grandmother who approached him in a parking lot one day while he was mourning another murdered friend. “A lot of my homeboys were getting killed, a lot of them going to jail. I was put in a lot of situations I can’t even…” He frowns, hesitates. “I still to this day can’t figure out why I wasn’t in the same position as the victim.”

Does he believe in evil?

“I don’t think people are evil. My homeboys, they’re not evil. These are good-hearted people who just want to hang around and see the good things in life. But when you’re around negativity, that’s where the negative spirits dwell. And those spirits get inside you. I know it’s true. We always wonder why people act the way they’re acting. We put the statistics in it and we put history behind it, but we’re missing God in the equation. The devil is real and he’s alive. Nobody ever brings that shit up.”

Kendrick admits he has an apocalyptic streak. “Even as a teenager, I always said I was in the last days. That’s just something I’ve always believed in. It’s going to take more than unity. It’s going to take faith.”

To Pimp a Butterfly ends on a tense, ambivalent note. “It leaves you hanging,” he says. “I end it with me telling my homeboys that we should be doing this. That don’t necessarily mean they’re listening. That don’t necessarily mean that I’m not going to get frustrated with them and say, ‘You know what? Fuck it! I can’t change you and I’m not going to change me.’ I’m just trying to figure out my place in the world and, lord willing, I’ll never backtrack.”

When he was making the album, Kendrick enjoyed the all-night sessions but found some of the performances emotionally gruelling. “It’s not tough to write,” he says. “When you’re writing from experiences, it’s like that!” He clicks his fingers. “The hard part is actually recording it because you have so many different emotions you may not want to pour out on the microphone.”

Taylor Swift - Bad Blood ft Kendrick Lamar video.

He says he wrote one lyric so angry that people around him vetoed it. Obviously I want to know what it said. He hesitates. “Put it this way, the lyrics and intensity on The Blacker the Berry are nothing compared with this one record that I have in the vaults. It makes The Blacker the Berry look like a kindergarten kid. It was probably a little bit too far out for people to understand it.”

Well, now I want to hear it.

“Yeah,” he says, meaning never in a million years. “It’s damaging.”

Kendrick is currently rehearsing with his band to recreate To Pimp a Butterfly on stage (“It has to be explosive”) but he already has an ambitious concept for his next album. “I know exactly what I want to say next,” he says with a teasing smile, still playing with his gum. “Everything is going to make sense – not only to myself but to anybody who wants to understand life and music. Everything will make a little more sense.”

One thing he won’t be doing in the near future is complaining about fame. By making this album he has made some kind of peace with the distance between Then and Now.

“How do I handle it?” he says. “The simplest way I can. Kendrick, what would you rather be doing? Would you rather be on the corner running from bullets all day or would you rather be taking pictures?” He’s grinning now. “What shot do you want? A shot from a nine-millimetre or an iPhone shot with a fan?” He clicks his fingers. “Once I do that, once I look at the situation, I’m blessed, man.”

To Pimp a Butterfly is out now on Interscope. Kendrick Lamar plays the Wireless festival in London on 4 July

https://apnews.com/article/a2c43fee273240e4adcb3cee480293db

Kendrick Lamar’s Pulitzer win hailed as ‘big for music’

 
April 17, 2018
Associated Press

Kendrick Lamar
FILE - In this July 7, 2017, file photo, Kendrick Lamar performs during the Festival d'ete de Quebec in Quebec City, Canada.On Monday, April 16, 2018, Lamar won the Pulitzer Prize for music for his album "Damn." (Photo by Amy Harris/Invision/AP, File)

NEW YORK (AP) — The decision to award rapper Kendrick Lamar the Pulitzer Prize for music represents a historic moment for hip-hop and American music, according to two of the music jurors who picked the album “DAMN.” as a finalist.

“It’s big for hip-hop. I think it’s big for our country. It’s big for music. But it’s big for the Pulitzers, too. Institutions are not stuck in time, either. Institutions can change,” said Farah Jasmine Griffin, a Columbia professor.

Lamar’s win on Monday made history as the first non-classical or non-jazz artist to win the prestigious prize since the Pulitzers included music in 1943. Just having a rapper nominated for the prize is considered a stunning development for awards that usually honor musicians of European classical background.

“I knew that there would be some anger and some resentment and some people who wouldn’t like the idea, but surprisingly enough, I haven’t heard a lot of that,” Griffin said.

Another jury member was Grammy-nominated violinist Regina Carter, who linked the award to the recent waves of people speaking up, pushing boundaries and refusing to be told what and what is not worthy. “Great art has to be acknowledged,” she said. “If a work is great enough, you can’t deny it.”

The decision was hailed as a turning point in music history by Jetro Da Silva, a professor at the prestigious Berklee College of Music who teaches a class on hip-hop writing and production.

“We are at a time in history here perhaps there is a new way to analyze what is considered a contribution to music. Critical thinkers are asking what it really means to be a composer and what is a composition,” he said. “The sky’s the limit.”

In addition to Griffin and Carter, the music jury this year included music critic David Hajdu, Paul Cremo from the Metropolitan Opera and the composer David Lang.

The five-member music jury listened to about 180 pieces of music and after deliberating for a few days then submitted to the final board three works — Lamar’s album along with Michael Gilbertson’s “Quartet” and Ted Hearne’s “Sound from the Bench.” Adding “DAMN.” was a unanimous decision by all five.

“Everyone expects that there would have been some form of resistance. There was none,” said Griffin. “It was just welcomed by everyone as an opportunity to have a serious conversation about the art, about Mr. Lamar’s work, but also about what constitutes what kind of music that should be eligible for this.”

The final decision was made by the Pulitzer board, which hailed Lamar’s CD as “a virtuosic song collection unified by its vernacular authenticity and rhythmic dynamism that offers affecting vignettes capturing the complexity of modern African-American life.”

Carter admits she quietly thought to herself that the board was unlikely to give the award to Lamar. “Although we all strongly agreed that this would be such an important step — if this were to really happen — I just didn’t think it would, really.” She said she was happily shocked by the final decision.

The Pulitzers have been accused of past mistakes when it comes to African-American contributions to music. In 1965, jurors recommended awarding a special citation to Duke Ellington, but were rejected. And it was not until 1997 that the Pulitzer for music even went to a jazz work.

“All of us sitting at that table were fully aware of Duke Ellington in 1965 being passed over for the Pulitzer and a jazz artist not winning for some time,” said Griffin. “We all brought a history to the table and thought, ‘Why not?’ and ‘Why not now?’”

The Pulitzers have lately expanded their inclusion of popular music, including honoring Bob Dylan’s lyrics with the prize for literature and giving Lin-Manuel Miranda’s hip-hop-inspired score for “Hamilton” the Pulitzer for drama.

The Lamar news stunned many and was cheered by the rappers’ fans, including celebrities like Ellen DeGeneres and Anthony Bourdain, who wrote: “The album was brilliant and deserves every accolade.” Leon W. Russell, chairman of the NAACP, wrote on Twitter that the win conferred a literary legitimacy but that Lamar had already gotten “street credibility and artistic authority.”

TV personality Charlamagne Tha God noted that Lamar joined African-American luminaries such as playwright August Wilson, writers Alex Haley and Toni Morrison, and musician John Coltrane as Pulitzer winners. “Congrats to that brother! I’m inspired!” he wrote.

Carter, who was awarded a so-called “genius” grant by the MacArthur Fellows Program, said Lamar heartily deserved the award. “I think he’s a genius,” he said. “It’s part of our tapestry. We have to stop dividing the music and the art.”

Griffin, a professor of English and African-American studies who has written about Billie Holiday, Miles Davis and John Coltrane, was a rookie on the Pulitzer jury this year.

“I will cherish that experience, of going through that process,” she said. “On so many levels, I felt like this was major — both the music that we put forward but also what happened in those deliberations.”

Mark Kennedy is at http://twitter.com/KennedyTwits

 

 

All clothing Prada.
 

an in-depth conversation with kendrick lamar

In a rare interview, the Compton rapper discusses Trump, Obama, and how we can all make a difference.

"I… don't…know," Kendrick Lamar says when asked to explain why Donald Trump became President of the United States. Few people understand America the way Kendrick does, so surely he must know something about how the billionaire reality TV star has happened to his country. He's sitting in a little dark gray room backstage at Barclays Center in Brooklyn on a Sunday afternoon. It's just a few hours before his show. He's in silver Nike Air Maxs and a maroon sweatsuit, top and bottom, with the TDE logo. That's Top Dawg Entertainment, Lamar's label. He's calm and softly spoken and radiates intensity because his words are well chosen and carry weight. Kendrick isn't voluble but he is deep. He's perceptive, wise, and quite often brilliant, so like many Americans, when it comes to Trump he's still in shock. "We all are baffled," he says. "It is something that completely disregards our moral compass." The shift is almost tangible for Kendrick because Obama is not just a president he respected and admired, he's also a friend who loves his music and invited him to the White House.

"I was talking to Obama," he says, "and the craziest thing he said was, 'Wow, how did we both get here?' Blew my mind away. I mean, it's just a surreal moment when you have two black individuals, knowledgeable individuals, but who also come from these backgrounds where they say we'll never touch ground inside these floors." A pause. He briefly recalls his grandmother, who died when Kendrick was a teenager; how incredible she might have found this, a black man in office, talking to her grandson. "That's what blows me up. Being in there and talking to him and seeing the type of intelligence that he has and the influence that he has, not only on me, but on my community. It just always takes me back to the idea of how far we have come along with this idea about how [much] further we can go. Just him being in office sparks the idea that us as a people, we can do anything that we want to do. And we have smarts and the brains and the intelligence to do it."

Both Barack and Kendrick came from nothing and ascended to legendary status on the strength of their words and their gifts for oration. They sat and talked in the Oval Office about the improbability of their lives – how did we both get here? And now, as far as the White House is concerned, both are all but considered enemies of the state. "It's a complete mindfuck," Lamar says of going from visiting the White House to feeling hated by it.

"The key differences [between Obama and Trump] are morals, dignity, principles, common sense," he says. Where Obama was an inspiration, it's hard for him to even respect Trump. "How can you follow someone who doesn't know how to approach someone or speak to them kindly and with compassion and sensitivity?" But ultimately the rise of Trump has brought out something new in Kendrick. "It's just building up the fire in me. It builds the fire for me to keep pushing as hard as I want to push."

The fire inside must be blazing right now because Kendrick's newest release, Damn, his fourth studio album, is both a commercial and critical smash. It's sold over two million copies and has every review writer struggling to outdo the praise showered by all those who superpraised Kendrick before them. Pitchfork's review calls Damn, "a widescreen masterpiece of rap, full of expensive beats, furious rhymes, and peerless storytelling about Kendrick's destiny in America." Lamar's vision for Damn meant asking his producers, "'What can we do to make it live in another space and be ourselves, but also challenge ourselves?' As far as the sonics of the album, we wanted to make it where it was really back to the future, something you've never heard before, but something you've heard before. If that makes sense." At this point the hip-hop universe seems to be unanimous in its belief that the greatest MC in the world right now is Kendrick Lamar. He could win a battle against most underground MCs and he could outsell most pop rappers. He is the undisputed current king of hip-hop.

Kendrick lives a life that befits the king of hip-hop, if you think what truly befits the king of hip-hop is to basically live in the studio looking for the perfect beat and the ultimate rhyme. "I can sometimes cut the whole world off to write a verse that is perfect to me," he says. "I could be in the studio all day and turn the phone off and completely zone out, because I feel like this was what I was chosen to do. And I can't let anyone get in between that." Unlike many MCs, when Kendrick creates, he's not high. "I want to make the music in the most sober mind as possible, that way I know it's me making it, not just the liquor!" If hip-hop is a game, Kendrick wants to win. "Hip-hop plays two ways in my head. It plays as a contact sport, and also as something that you connect to – songwriting. Growing up and listening to battles between Nas and Jay-Z, that's the sport for me. That's where it can get funky, that's where I can say whatever I want, however I want, whenever I want. Then there's the other side, which is showing something that people can actually relate to, and connect with. I have that competitive nature, and I also have the compassion to talk about something that's real."

"Hip-hop plays two ways in my head. It plays as a contact sport, and also as something that you connect to – songwriting. Growing up and listening to battles between Nas and Jay-Z, that's the sport for me."

Asked if he's written the perfect rhyme yet, Kendrick decides the album's 12th song, Fear, contains the best verses he's ever written. "It's completely honest," he says. "The first verse is everything that I feared from the time that I was seven years old. The second verse I was 17, in the third it's everything I feared when I was 27. These verses are completely honest." He got to that honesty through years of work with a studio family that helped keep the king humble. "Everything you write is not dope," he says. "Even if you're a great writer, a bunch of the stuff you write is wack. But most people don't have somebody around to be like, 'That's wack.'" Kendrick has friends who are empowered to tell him what's not working and he says that has made a huge difference. "I've been in that studio writing terrible verses, writing terrible hooks, with homeboys and friends and people that you trust telling you, 'That's garbage.' I grew thick skin and got back in there and did it all over again. And then you eventually grow an ability to know when something is too far. I learned how to challenge myself to take it to the next level."

But for Kendrick to reach his throne he's had to do much more than learn how to rhyme. He grew up in Compton, California, a rough place that has sucked up many souls, a place where gangs, killers, and dead bodies littered Rosecrans Avenue, where he lived until relatively recently. Music wasn't just an outlet, he needed it to save his spirit. He grew up obsessed with Snoop, Dre, Pac, Public Enemy, KRS-One, Rakim, Jay-Z, and Kanye, as well as Michael Jackson, Quincy Jones, Prince, Marvin Gaye, the Isley Brothers, Luther Vandross, and Malcolm X. "His ideas rooted my approach to music," he says. Reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X as a teenager contributed to shaping Kendrick as an artist. "That was the first idea that inspired how I was going to approach my music. From the simple idea of wanting to better myself by being in this mind-state, [the] same way Malcolm was." Without music to give him purpose, he might have grown lost. "We used to have these successful people come around and tell us what's good and what's bad in the world, but from our perspective it didn't mean shit to us, because you're telling us all these positive things but when we walk outside and see somebody's head get blown off, whatever you just said went out the window. And it just chips away at the confidence. It makes you feel belittled in the world. The more violence you're exposed to as a kid, the more it chips away at you. For the most part, the kids that I was around, it broke them. It broke them to say, 'Fuck everything, I'm gonna do what I'm gonna do to survive.'" How did Kendrick escape falling into that? "Before I let it chip away at me 100%, I was making my transition into music."

Later that night, at Brooklyn's Barclays Center, Lamar comes up from under the floor to a screaming, sold out crowd. He's wearing a yellow tracksuit with black trim, recalling Bruce Lee in Game of Death, and he commands the stage, working alone for most of the show and dominating the arena. His small body exudes power as he moves about the stage. Like Rakim and Nas before him, he doesn't dance and he's as serious as a heart attack. The crowd can't take their eyes off of him. In between songs, Lamar is on the big screen in clips from The Legend of Kung Fu Kenny, a little film he made, inspired by 70s kung fu flicks. In it, Lamar gets to look like he's in a kung fu movie, but this is not costume play, it gets at the core of who he is. In those movies there was often an obsession with acquiring skill and showing off mastery and an internal battle to excel. That's who Kendrick is as an artist – he's focused on polishing his skills and displaying his mastery and pushing himself to greatness. Asked about his favorite words, besides "perspective" Lamar says, "discipline." "I love that word," he says, "because it shows who you really are. There are so many vices in the world, especially being in the entertainment business. You're exposed to so much at any given time. Whatever you need is right there in your face. But how much discipline do you have when the camera's off, when the light's off? That inspires me. How to restrain that. And that shows who you really are. To control yourself, that is the ultimate power."

Kendrick is learning more and more about how to control himself, partly through daily meditation sessions each morning. "I need 30 minutes a day of just reflecting on the moment," he says. "When you're in this business, everything is," he snaps his fingers. "Years go by so quick, because you're working and you're also planning for more work within the next six months to a year. So for me, I just have to sit down and reflect on what's going on in these 30 minutes." His meditation practice helps him gain perspective, which he says is his, "number one favorite word".

"I'm a human being, I'm a person, I have family, I have my own personal problems. But I have to give to the world. That's my responsibility. It's not just a job or entertainment for me; this is what I have to offer to the world."


As well as his impact on global pop culture, Kendrick's local community is also benefitting from his success; he has helped dozens of his peers find jobs that aren't just "making money" but "earning a living". "You put YMCAs inside your community and you give a job to these cats that can't be hired anywhere else. You make the opportunities, and that's what I'm doing personally. Because once I put the power in their hands, they can put it in the next. People can't believe that it can change that way. But it has to start with one." Dr. Dre and Venus and Serena Williams are also active in the city of Compton, while its female mayor, 35-year-old Aja Brown, is effecting real change. "This generation has opportunities that my generation didn't have," he notes, adding that to be present in these communities holds true power. It's not enough to merely donate or write powerful songs or tweet messages of positivity; you must show and prove. "There's a lot of people that are scared of their own people, the gang culture that is still there, but you can't be scared. You gotta be there, because it shows confidence not only in yourself but in those in the neighbourhood. People want a reason to hate you. Don't give them that reason. What's going on now is that transformation of us not being scared of where we come from. And that idea is gonna get passed on."

Lots of people want change but how does true structural revolution happen? Is " Alright" just a song or is there something more behind it? Lamar promises that we gonna be alright, but how? How do we get to actually being alright in such a crazy nation? "I always go back to the community," Lamar says. "Simple as that. Because I see these kids growing up without a father and they don't have this confidence of knowing that they're better than the environment that they're in. So getting to alright is just installing confidence in them. To let them know that I come from where you come from, and you can ultimately make a change." Kendrick Lamar knows that he is an artist who has the power to change the world and he's working on trying to do just that. "When I'm gone," he says, "I can rest peacefully knowing that I contributed to the evolution of this right here, the mind."

Credits

Text Touré
Photography Craig McDean
Fashion Director Alastair McKimm

Grooming Francelle Daly at Art and Commerce. Photography assistance Nick Brinley and Maru Teppei. Digital technician Nick Ong. Styling assistance Sydney Rose Thomas and Madeleine Jones. Grooming assistance Ryo Yamazaki. Production Gracey Connelly and Dyonne Wasserman.

Kendrick wears all clothing Prada.

 

THE MUSIC OF KENDRICK LAMAR: AN EXTENSIVE VIDEO OVERVIEW, A CROSS SECTION OF RECORDINGS, MUSICAL ANALYSIS AND COMMENTARY, PLUS VARIOUS INTERVIEWS WITH KENDRICK LAMAR:


Kendrick Lamar - HUMBLE.