Kendrick Lamar's Burden
"Heavy is the head that chose to wear the crown."
Yesterday, my corner of the space formerly known as “Twitter” was overtaken by Harper’s BAZAAR November cover story on Kendrick Lamar. Part of the magazine’s “The Voices Issue,” the interview was conducted by SZA and included Lamar’s thoughts on masculinity, music as a springboard for other ventures, and a hunger for information.
The Timeline, however, understandably focused on Lamar’s response to being asked about his meaning of “Not Like Us”:
Not like us? Not like us is the energy of who I am, the type of man I represent. Now, if you identify with the man that I represent…This man has morals, he has values, he believes in something, he stands on something. He’s not pandering.
He’s a man who can recognize his mistakes and not be afraid to share the mistakes and can dig deep down into fear-based ideologies or experiences to be able to express them without feeling like he’s less of a man.
If I’m thinking of “Not Like Us,” I’m thinking of me and whoever identifies with that.
A sizable amount of replies and reposts displayed netizens criticizing Lamar for saying a whole bunch of nothing as to avoid admitting “Not Like Us” is simply a Drake diss. It’s undeniable that the song and its contents directly target the aforementioned Canadian megastar, but to reduce the track to a baseless attack against the streaming era’s biggest artist is a mistake that validates much of what Lamar has addressed in his most introspective raps.
Why, then, have people taken this route?
The Drake-Kendrick Lamar feud showcased how deeply personal spectators feel about their favorite artists, to the point that they take up arms on these artists’ behalves. Some fans have even emulated these figures, which makes any criticism about their character and habits also scrutiny about them.
To folks that’ve identified with Aubrey Graham, Lamar’s reply to SZA’s question is hypocritical and deceitful. Many have long expressed their dislike for the Los Angeles native’s “holier-than-thou” image and his lyrics towards Drake throughout the first 10 months of 2024 have served as the last straw. Many have viewed Lamar’s words as “trolling” and audacious because how could a man who represents morals and values call another man “certified pedophile” in the biggest song of his career? Furthermore, how can Lamar criticize the music industry and hip-hop culture while actively participating and benefitting economically from both?
While I don’t pretend to have a direct line to the pgLang co-founder, I have listened to enough of his music to have an idea of Lamar’s thoughts on criticism about his image. Towards the beginning of “The Heart Part 5,” he shares that he’s realized life is perspective and that his perspective might differ from others’. Therefore, Lamar would likely hear out any analysis about him, but would only ruminate on comments backed by intelligent thought or emotion. And understandably so: the 37-year-old has undergone a tedious process that has granted him the ability to examine both the internal and external with careful attention. If you listened to his music with less-biased ears or read his full conversation with SZA with a more open mind, you would’ve realized that Lamar’s “savior complex” boils down to his desire for all of us to find the peace and discernment he’s been able to enjoy.
One of the biggest knocks against Kendrick Lamar has been his consciousness. On “Family Matters,” Drake asserted that Lamar is “Always rapping like [he] ‘bout to get the slaves freed.” Although Mr. Duckworth masterfully repurposed the assessment on “Not Like Us,” many listeners agreed with the lyrics. The sentiment is largely rooted in the perceived complexity of To Pimp a Butterfly and Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers, two albums that received more critical acclaim than mainstream praise. The ongoing “The Heart” series has also amplified the sentiment as it’s delivered some of Lamar’s most personal contemplations and sincerest observations on society-at-large in packages with little replay value.
No one artist’s music needs to be for everybody, but when did it become okay to clown someone for his awareness and hope for others to also become aware?
As a product of Compton, USA, Lamar was born and raised in an environment with default settings that made life dangerous, that taught him what was and wasn’t for him. The songs “m.A.A.d city” and “Father Time” offer glimpses of the elements that formed Lamar’s upbringing–including gang politics and inherited toxic masculinity–in a vivid and insightful manner. And while he has been critical of certain customs and attitudes, the “good kid” has acknowledged the dichotomy of mankind in other parts of his discography, going as far as calling himself a “hypocrite” for demonizing racists when he once partook in violence against other Black men. But on “Worldwide Steppers,” just as in his Harper’s BAZAAR cover story, he recognizes that violence and war have a necessary space–one of protection and rectification. Lamar has analyzed and deconstructed many of the negative behaviors he learned in Compton, documenting his journey for other “good kids” in “m.A.A.d cities” to know what’s possible when will and discipline are in unison.
In conversation with Zach Goldbaum for Noisey’s “Bompton” documentary, Lamar acknowledged that his hometown’s reputation preceded his. As such, he could’ve rested on the laurels of those before him. But he didn’t. Instead, Lamar has dedicated the last 13 years to showcasing his city and its inhabitants as more complex than their reputations; diagnosing some of their problems and offering solutions; and embodying growth. Mr. Morale might be his most cohesive intentional therapeutic effort, but his catalog has explored ideas of trauma, vulnerability, hypocrisy, forgiveness, and self-reflection before. Along the way, Kendrick Lamar has broadened what’s imaginable of a person from his background, that looks like him.
On Sept. 11, Lamar uploaded an untitled song to his Instagram account. The track–widely referred to as “Watch the Party Die”–was his first musical release since May’s “Not Like Us.” Over the course of just over 5 minutes, Lamar identified the music business’ wrongs and their biggest culprits, which include Drake. Many listeners mistakenly took the song as another diss track towards Mr. Graham, failing to understand it for what it is: a frustrated diagnosis and call to arms by a concerned Black, hip-hop-loving father from Compton, Calif. who understands both the importance of self-love, faith, and honor, and danger of unchecked indulgence.
“Watch the Party Die” sees Lamar at his most didactic, a tactic that certainly reinforces the “holier-than-thou” judgement for many. But, as conveyed by harsh imagery of burnt villages and hopeful vision of a “new Earth,” he’s fine resorting to tough love because he has the blinds’ best interests in mind. After all, he, oklama, is “All of us.”