But if ever cared about hip hop, go get the Kendrick Lamar record. I'm not sure if it's the instant classic many say it is, mainly because modern production techniques like compression leave me cold. Good Kid M.A.A.D. City's beats are as hot as beats can get in 2012, but they still sound a little clinical and overly digital for my tastes. The boom bap is there, but not like it used to be. You have every right to dismiss such complaints as another old guy whining and waxing nostalgic for an 808 and Primo's technique, but if we're serious about our standards for a classic, these are the heights an album's beats must reach.
Lamar himself deserves every bit of acclaim he's receiving. He's simply a lyrical monster. Rod from The Black Guy Who Tips made fun of the developing cottage industry of dudes trying to flow over the album's beats, because there's absolutely no way anyone can exceed the lyrics K. Dot has already spit. I don't need to break down how brilliantly he weaves the extended metaphor throughout the entire album, because someone has already done it.
If I have to pick my favorite thing about Kendrick's rhyming on the record, it's how he manages to presents the joys of youthful nihilism and reflect on their consequences at the same time. Listen Money Trees or Backseat Freestyle, Kendrick communicates both the excitement I remember from raising hell as a kid and the remorse I feel about most of that stuff now. I couldn't write an essay on the topic half as elegant, and he's doing it as poetry. Amazing.
Anyway, if you haven't yet, do whatever you have to do to listen to this record.
No comments:
Post a Comment