GNX by Kendrick Lamar | Album Review

Another surprise drop from the Compton artist

What does a superstar do after they’ve done it all? Kendrick Lamar seems to have come to the crux in his musicianship after doing pretty much everything there is to be done. He has the awards, the Superbowl Halftime show, critically acclaimed classics, socially conscious canons, the upperhand and, simultaneously, the respect of all of his peers, legends calling him a legend. He successfully quashed any remnants of his beef with another superstar who happens to reside on the the flip side of the same coin in a different currency.

If Lebron is any indicator, living legends keep on balling. On the tail end of the game changing beef, Kendrick is determined to have the last word with his newest album, GNX, while his adversaries are concerned with reliving the glory days. J. Cole released The Warm Up several hours later in the same vein as the middle child pining, “What about me?” Drake is stuck in purgatory, reliving every moment leading up to and in the wake of their momentous beef, while playing coy about its impact. Even Future is moping to GQ about being left out of the fabled Big 3, an innocuous title that ignited this shitstorm.

Kendrick stands alone on the other side of the war that had been festering within his chest for the past decade. A quiet menacing tone opens “wacced out murals,” as he rambles on about this staunch binary he has created, almost awestruck, and thoroughly conscientious of where he stands in the larger picture. The five-minute track is voracious, so much so that each threat looms larger than the previous.

The complete dismantling of the structure that Drake’s ego seems to be built upon feels more genuine than any of the allegations thrown around previously. The me vs. the world approach has proven to be Lamar’s most calculated step as it allows him to spit reckless abandon — no one else is protected so covetously.

There’s no longer such thing as risk for Lamar, so tracks like the 80’s disco pop backed “squabble up,” sampling Debbie Deb’s, “When I Hear Music,” are at no danger of being written off like his early work pre-m.A.A.d City. The breathless drill over that thumping west-coast beat intertwined with the synths of the sample are so ridiculous and yet somehow work in the same way greatness sort of just happens regardless of the circumstance. Remember when Lebron hit a behind the back dribble that went through the defenders legs?

“I deserve it all,” is a statement that will be stuck in the ears of the collective conscious for a while. As Kendrick pleads his case before the “garden,” a reference and parallelism to the Garden of Eden, it’s impossible to build the case that he isn’t worthy — the greatest of all time. As he floats between reminiscence both bitter and sweet, the tenants of his past albums — self-love and doubt of Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers, the reverance of To Pimp a Butterfly, the power of storytelling of Good Kid, m.A.A.d City, underscored by his defiant faith — define a legendary trajectory. The eery certainty Lamar raps with seems sacrilegious, but as he prunes his leaves, it becomes apparent the roots were firmly planted all along.

Embodying the perspectives of both John Lee Hooker (Genius) and a Chitlin Circuit singer as a prelude to unraveling himself over a sample of Tupac’s, “Made Niggaz,” he shoots another bullet in the long line of clips aimed at Drake, particularly referring to Drake’s use of AI Tupac voices. Towards the end of the first verse, Lamar captures the voice of two Detroit legends, the latter in Eminem with that strained, angry delivery. The mention of the Chitlin Circuit hit different for me as I live in a city where the remnants of the circuit are essentially erased outside the efforts of one man on Jefferson — how could the first homes of Jimi Hendrix face such a fate?

As Lamar spins the block, reloads and empties the clip in the general direction of Toronto, it is more evident than ever that Canada as a whole may never recover. I feel like a certain sect of the population should be glad this wasn’t just eight tracks of straight vitriol like the past eight months were. It seems Lamar seems to have woken up from the same bad dream for the majority of the year and jumped in the studio immediately trying to correct course like that random ass Joey Bada$$ movie on Netflix. Even so, a majority of GNX refuses to let anyone breathe let alone Drake as the shots come in flurries to the abdomen with the haymaker coming on “heart pt. 6,” as he bears his business moves, building the blocks to where he is now.

Sampling “Use Your Heart” by SWV in the chorus, this feels like the most personal of shots. Deeming someone heartless can be more shocking to the ego, particularly when you flaunt putting your boys on in all your music yet none of your label mates have the resources they need to succeed. Combine that with the tellall of Dave Free, Kendrick’s right hand man and the full tellings of his “fallout” with TDE successfully dismantles every argument that Drake drooled out in their beef.

The two superpowers of hip-hop are pit against each other because they stand for two completely opposite versions of the genre. I think from here on out, we’ll see this divisive vernacular as we try to decipher who is a rapper versus who is a hip-hop artist.

Lamar gets his final shots by flaunting on his relationship with his wife, while creating the extended metaphor for his writing precision, the center of Drake’s retaliation that start to slip at the seams as SZA croons on “gloria.” Saying Lamar did it all throughout the 45 minutes of GNX would be an understatement. How he was able to piece together such an eclectic project while fighting off the pesky Drake and uplifting his own community and securing the Superbowl is truly a marvel.

I could complain about the sub-par beat selection, the weak features outside of SZA, but each point is only swept under the rug by the conceptual attempts Lamar managed to scrap up through this year. Each point is calculated, revelatory, honest, complex, and suprisingly, simple.

Lamar seems to be plagued with being too conscientious of the world around him. There’s a reason geniuses go insane. He plays God in the world he has created while also remaining subservient to the same said God. It’s a sick, twisted game and Lamar simply pulls the strings to his desire. Much like the God he worships, the result is both out of his hands and planned far beyond conception, a paradox so believable that he’s the only one that can refute it. You tip one domino and the rest fall, but an earthquake fucks the whole game up.

Favorite Tracks: man at the garden, reincarnated, heart pt. 6

Rating: 7.8/10