The Dissection of A Butterfly
It's February 22, 2016. It has been almost a year since To Pimp A Butterfly, noticeably a week before its actual release date, awkwardly found its way on to iTunes. Considering all the critical acclaim that this album has received, it is a bit easy to forget - and as a result a bit funny to remember, that its early release was publicly described as an Interscope "fuck up", by an irritated Anthony Tiffith (CEO, Top Dawg Entertainment), on the same day where it would eventually break Spotify streaming records. Since that day, an endless amount of think pieces, positive and negative reviews via online mags and forum posts (don't let metacritic fool you - this album is quite divisive among hip hop fans) and some poorly written backlash ("hip hop and jazz, what? this is a thing that happens?" - Complex) have been penned about this album. Many of these pieces were written extremely fast, some even just days after the album was released - such is the climate of modern day music journalism and blogging.
Most of Kendrick Lamar's youthful fanbase can barely recall a time with no internet. The generation that drives hip hop is one of instant gratification. Rushing into penning a criticism of an album this well done and meticulous, there is a real risk of doing it a disservice. Upon its release and to this day, To Pimp A Butterfly feels immensely timely and important - it's a record that speaks directly to the Black American consciousness. Despite how on time the album felt, in many ways it is sonically anachronistic. It's an album that seems to look back to move things forward, mixing various musical influences from the past including funk, jazz soul and spoken word. The closest thing in hip hop chronologically and arguably musically may be what the Soulquarians (The Roots, D'Angelo, Dilla, Bilal - who is actually on this record - etc.) were doing in the late 90s and early 2000s. Similarly to Soulquarians' work, To Pimp A Butterfly is a very neo-soul influenced affair. Consequently, classic albums like Common's Like Water Chocolate could be a reference point. A cursory listen to any of the first four OutKast records also reveals that they were likely a big influence as well, which is not a surprise as they made very funky music.
The radical difference between To Pimp A Butterfly and Good Kid Maad City was a shock. This record is on a completely different level. Good Kid is a fantastic and extremely well sequenced project, but unlike this album, it wasn't exactly an anomaly in terms of mainstream hip hop. Just about any rapper you can find on the radio would have been happy with that great, trap-leaning "Swimming Pools" beat for a single. Despite this, three years later Kendrick released an album that none of his mainstream peers would even attempt to create.
Compared to what it was surrounded by in most contemporary hip hop conversations of 2015, To Pimp A Butterfly is a lot more dense. The record features a noticeable focus on instrumentation and despite the fact that there is not one band behind it, the album has the aesthetic and cohesion of an album produced by one multi-talented band. The intention to create this band-like atmosphere that is heard throughout the album can be seen just by looking at the credits. In addition to his normal in house TDE crew (Sounwave, Tae Beast) Kendrick enlisted people that were sure to know how to bring vibrant funk, jazz and soul to his work: Robert Glasper, Thundercat, Flying Lotus, Terrance Martin and the legendary George Clinton - to name a few.
The phrase "unapologetically black" was constantly slung around in the press soon after the release of this album. With a "band" like this behind the boards, skilled in relatively more traditional African American music such as jazz, funk and soul, as opposed to more contemporary leaning pop of mainstream radio, it's hard to argue with that assessment - even without diving into the lyrical content. Personally, as I black man that had given up on music that sounds like this being thrust into the limelight again, I have to say it was refreshing to see that an artist with such a huge platform would create something like To Pimp A Butterfly.
The lyrical content is fantastic and backed up by Kendrick's slight, but notable improvement as an emcee from a technical perspective. However, for many, the instrumentals will be what immediately grabs their attention. Many hip hop albums have stand out verse with rewindable bars, but this one has that and the equivalent on the instrumental front. There are incredibly beautiful moments in the production here, some subtle and others very in your face. The bass throughout "Wesley's Theory", courtesy of Thundercat, is one of the first of the record.
Thundercat, who plays on various tracks, is in many ways one of the stars of this album. The way his bass, which has a very groovy effect to its tone, instead of being static and repeating the same loops all the time, seems to explore a bit throughout the verses of "Wesley's Theory", is extremely funky and that, combined with George Clinton's vocals, takes the song to the next level. Another impressive moment is "Institutionalized", a well placed beat change takes the song into a somber second phase with beautiful descending keys and a wonderful cello arrangement. "Complexion" is another fantastically structured song with tight bass work, gorgeous rising background vocals, and an extremely fitting transition into Rapsody's verse.
There are also moments of short, passing brilliance, like the short lived psychedelic, and noticeably Flying Lotus-ish (despite the fact that he did not produce the song, he did "Wesley's Theory") freak out in "Hood Politics" heard around the 2:44 minute mark ("Obama say what it do"). The jazzy, funky and frantic breakdown with shades of OutKast that ends the track that "Momma." There are just too many great moments to pick from on this record musically. The production here is impeccable across the board. The more subtle moments, like the keys improvising in the back of the mix of "U" or Lalah Hathaway beautifully singing with a sample of her own voice on "Momma", are just as rewarding as the more immediately recognizable aspects like the unbridled jazz of "For Free."
Content wise, To Pimp A Butterfly is Kendrick, mostly from an individualistic stand point, taking on various key issues that have arose throughout his life. It's specifically linked to how he has processed these issues in the years after the fame that he achieved with the release of Good Kid Maad City. A big theme of the album is fame and how it interacts with various aspects of his life - his past, his paranoia, his gauge of authenticity, where he is from and his interactions with people (be it people from Compton or his new fans), including the "survivors guilt" that he feels about the conditions of his hometown. The record also centers itself around blackness in America, in particular black self-love, a subject that is inevitably connected with the institutional racism that founded the United States and unfortunately continues to exist in it. Additional themes include the rapper's deep religious faith and how traveling to Africa affected him profoundly, seemingly changing his outlook on life.
All of these subjects may seem like a lot to take in in one album, but To Pimp A Butterfly is sequenced perfectly. In fact, there may not be precedent for tying together a hip hop album like this. Aspects of the over-arching themes are wonderfully introduced by a poem that weaves its way throughout the entire album. The poem builds on itself as the album builds on, appearing at the end of the majority of the tracks here, being an extremely effective way of introducing the content of the songs. For example, "These Walls", a song that features Kendrick arguably "misusing his influence" opens with that line from the poem. The song closes with another line being added on to the poem "resentment that turned into a deep depression / found myself screaming in the hotel room", which transitions seamlessly into "U" a song about depression and self-hate that literally opens up with him screaming.
A common criticism of this record is that it's overwhelming. Whether that is true is open to debate, but Kendrick, with his varied voices, flows and ability to convey different personalities is a greatly equipped rapper to take on something as epic as the 80 minutes of this album. After a few listens, the main lyrical themes of these songs reveal themselves in some pretty blatant ways. Despite the fact that many people seem to have tried to paint it as such, this isn't a Tetsuo & Youth (a great, lyrically complex album by Lupe Fiasco) in terms of levels of "what the fuck is he reallytalking about?."
The opener, "Wesley's Theory", personally one of my favorite songs on the record, is about the initial rush of obtaining fame and the dangers of mismanaging it ("looking down, it's quite a drop"). It's a song about not being "pimped" by the record label "system" and by extension "Uncle Sam", with the invented verb "Wesley Snipe[d]" being used to express the potential of essentially ending up ruined financially despite an initially lucrative career. Up next is "For Free" a track where Kendrick gets his Freestyle Fellowship on and scat-raps over jazz. "For Free" is another track about not being pimped by the "system", but this time it is much more large scale. Kendrick is blatantly referencing racism while declaring that his "dick", his work, "ain't free", ending the song declaring "Oh America, you bad bitch, I the picked cotton that made you rich/Now my dick ain't free." The next track, "King Kunta", has a completely different vibe and focus. Kendrick is in braggadocio mode over a funky beat, confidently celebrating the success he is currently enjoying after his past struggles ("bitch where were you when I was walking/now I run the game got the whole world talking"). "Walking" here, with the blatant reference to Kunta Kinte, is a metaphor for when he was struggling - working hard to make himself into the success he is today.
The confident makes room for the insecure and melancholy when the album gets to "Institutionalized." The theme here is blatantly pointed out by Snoop Dogg's line during the bridge: "You can take your boy out the hood but you can't take the hood out the homie. " You can take Kendrick, and his lifelong friends out of where they are from, Compton, but they may often process some things as if they were still back in Compton - the city has institutionalized them. This idea is doubled down on in a moving verse from the perspective of Kendrick's friend at the BET awards, where the rapper switches tones masterfully to convey his perspective ("My defense mechanism tell me to get him, quickly because he got it/It's the recession, then why the fuck he at King of Diamonds?"). Conversely, the next track, "These Walls", is entirely from Kendrick's perspective. It showcases the rapper "misusing [his] influence" for revenge and moves from vagina walls to prison walls. The song as a sex metaphor, but as the tune, and his voice, shift towards the end it's revealed that he is having sex with the girlfriend of the man who killed his friend in "Sing About Me", who is currently locked up in prison ("dumb criminal got indicted same night").
"U" is a jarring way to continue after "These Walls" and is also unarguably Kendrick's lowest emotional point on the record. "U" deals with self-hate, the narrative being that even though Kendrick has achieved so much, he has still been unable to help those closest to him. Kendrick is in an alarmingly vulnerable state - and that's not just because he cries on it - these are personal, real stories. "U" is followed by a track that is relatively a huge pick-me-up. With an anthemic vibe courtesy of Pharrell. It isn't entirely positive but, "Alright" feels like the sun breaking through the stormy cloud that was "U." It's a hopeful and extremely religious song in light of the adversity Black America faces ("But if God got us then we gon' be alright!"). "Alright" is a particularly moving song in light of the Sandra Blands, our Tamir Rices, Sean Bells - unfortunately this list could go on for days. With its blatant references to police brutality, there is no surprise that it has already been used as a protest song. On "Alright", Kendrick's faith in god helps him navigate through adversity and temptation, topics that are quickly revisited on "For Sale." "For Sale", has Kendrick changing his voice to become the character of "Lucy" (the devil). The devil tries to tempt him to fall into the sin of temptation, stating that she is going to call him "even when [she] knows [he] loves [his] Father."
The first three tracks of the second half of the album give the listener an inside look on how the trip to South Africa deeply affected Kendrick Lamar. With an extremely technically impressive flow on "Momma", Kendrick focuses on his intellectual growth ("I realized I didn't know shit/the Day I came home"), which was sparked by his trip and how he now sees the world through a different lens because of his fame. "Momma" here is being used as a reference to the motherland (Africa). The word "home" is employed in two different contexts, the home of his roots, which, as a black man, is literally Africa, and his actual home, which is Compton. The moment that sparked the change in Kendrick is expressed through a conversation with a young African boy ("You spoiled by fantasies of who you are/I feel bad for you/I can attempt to enlighten you without frightenin' you").
The growth on "Momma" is instantly juxtaposed by his youth on "Hood Politics", where Kendrick uses a higher pitched voice to take us back to a time where all he knew was Compton. There are some notably out of context lines - shots at the rap industry in general ("Critics want to mention that they miss when hip hop was rappin’/Motherfucker if you did, then Killer Mike'd be platinum"). To Pimp A Butterfly then immediately shifts back to Kendrick's time in Africa on "How Much A Dollar Cost". Arguably the most blatantly religious song on the record, "How Much A Dollar Cost" features Kendrick telling the story of an interaction with a beggar in South Africa, which ends in Kendrick checking himself in regards to his fame, attitude and faith. The song is best summed up in the final lines, which are wonderfully sung by Ronald Isley: "I wash my hands, I said my grace/What more do you want from me?/Tears of a clown, guess I'm not all what is meant to be/Shades of grey will never change if I condone/Turn this page, help me change, so right my wrongs?."
The final phase of the album deals primarily with black self-love and authenticity. "Complexion" addresses colorism in the black community. Kendrick states that we should do away with colorism entirely by loving "all shades of faces" through a story of love between a two slaves of different complexion ("Dark as the midnight hour, I'm bright as the mornin' Sun"). Although Kendrick's verse is fantastic, due to the subject matter, appropriately it is a woman, Rapsody, who steals the show here. The beat switches up and Rapsody delivers what is surely to be remembered as a classic guest verse ("Call your brothers magnificent, call all the sisters queens/We all on the same team, blues and pirus, no colors ain’t a thing"). The song ends with a distinct change in tone, with lyrics that provide a transition in atmosphere into the next track, the rage filled "The Blacker The Berry."
"The Blacker The Berry" takes racism head on and has Kendrick showing a type of aggression that hasn't been seen in mainstream hip hop single for an extremely long time in terms of racially charged tracks. He does this in an extremely vulnerable, but powerful way, surrounding himself in stereotypes and contradictions. The song is full of great lines, one of the most immediately starling being "I'm black as the heart of a fuckin' Aryan." After Kendrick is finished with his high octane performance on "The Blacker The Berry", Robert Glasper provides a jazzy end to the track which brings the energy level down to transition into the OutKast influenced "You Ain't Gotta Lie." The song starts of with a mixture of half-sung and half-rapped lines, with Kendrick Lamar channeling Andre 3000 when he moves into the traditionally rapped verses. The song deals with authenticity ("you ain't gotta lie to kick it") referring to the various insecurities that may cause a lack of it, such as jealously and self-pity. This is another song, like in "Hood Politics," where Kendrick seems to be taking shots at glorifications of materialistic culture, something that dominates mainstream rap radio today ("Askin', 'where the hoes at?' to impress me/Askin', 'where the moneybags?' to impress me/Say you got to burn your stash to impress me/It's all in your head, homie").
Through being authentic, and presenting oneself truly, one can achieve self-love, which is the theme of the second to last track here, "i." This track's positive and self-love narrative works as an obvious opposite to Kendrick's state of mind earlier throughout "U." Kendrick's self love overpowers the devil and all other forms of adversity. It shows the growth that he has gone through throughout the record. The single version of this song was surprisingly toothless, but it is completely reimagined on the album. The live instrumental, Kendrick's more passionate delivery and Ol' Dirty Bastard-esque cadence have brought "i" to life.
The final song, "Mortal Man", is fittingly dramatic for a record with the scope of To Pimp A Butterfly. Kendrick speaks on the legacy he wants to leave, the type of effect he aspires to have on people through his art and viscerally expresses the stress and doubt that has come with his current fame. There are constant references to Mandela ("The ghost of Mandela, hope my flows they propel it") and incessant questioning directly addressed to the audience ("Would you judge me a drug kid or see me as K. Lamar/Or question my character and degrade me on every blog?"). The questioning reveals the paranoia that has come with his newfound fame, depicted perfectly during a brilliant verse ("See I got to question it all, family, friends, fans, cats, dogs/Trees, plants, grass, how the wind blow..."). The emotion he puts into these bars is incredible, making the track feel undoubtedly genuine.
By presenting a good amount of the aspects that define To Pimp A Butterfly, "Mortal Man" wraps the record up perfectly. The track has great live instrumentation, passionate verses and originality (the ending is a bit unexpected), which are all aspects that contribute to the album's success. To Pimp A Butterfly is an ambitious, dense, extremely heartfelt and at times painfully honest hip-hop classic.
