Revolutionary
All Star
To Pimp a Butterfly review: "Possibly kendrick's best work to date, could be one of the most important albums of this generation"
This morning, I was given a unique opportunity: to hear Kendrick Lamar’s forthcoming album, To Pimp a Butterfly. While our official review will appear once the album drops—and we have had ample time to soak it in and truly pick it apart—we have some preliminary thoughts we’ve prepared for you, our readers and fellow Kendrick fans. Keep in mind that these are brief, first impressions and we don’t want to give too much away: this is truly an album you need to hear for yourself, so stop reading now if you don’t want anything spoiled. Production and feature credits are listed to the best of our ability, but there has yet to be an officially published list.
Please go out and support Kendrick Lamar and Top Dawg Entertainment by purchasing To Pimp A Butterfly on March 23rd.
As the album fades in, we hear the crackle of a record and a distorted sample of Boris Gardner’s “Every N*gger is a Star.” After forty-five seconds, the sample abruptly cuts out and the beat drops: we hear P-Funk. We hear George Clinton:
When the four corners of this coc00n collide, you’ll slip through the cracks hoping that you’ll survive. Gather your wind, take a deep look inside, are you really who they idolize? To pimp a butterfly.
To Pimp A Butterfly is jazzy. It’s soulful. It’s (p-)funky. There are even elements of gospel and spoken word. It incorporates nearly every genre of black music and mashes them together flawlessly. Beats switch fairly frequently and each track bleeds into the next, making for a holistic, seamless experience. While it’s near-impossible to discern production credits, the hypnotic keys on “How Much A Dollar Cost” scream Dr. Dre (who also speaks briefly on “Wesley’s Theory”). To compare it to Kendrick’s past work, it’s more section.80 than it is good kid, m.A.A.d city, but it’s most certainly a beast of its own—and that’s a good thing.
For those worried about the album’s racially charged content, fear not: the majority of it is not as abrasive or militant as single “The Blacker the Berry” would suggest. It’s genuinely thought-provoking without being heavy-handed or pandering, getting its point across through dark humor (“Sneakin’ through the back window I’m a good field nikka/I made a flower for you outta cotton just to chill with you,” he raps on “Complexion”). Though it contains 80-minutes of heavy subject matter, most of To Pimp A Butterfly‘s production is relatively laid-back: other than a few songs (“U,” “The Blacker the Berry”), it’s not something that’s going to be a mood-killer at a party. Whether you’re a casual listener or the type of person who analyzes lyrics on Rap Genius, this album appears to have near-infinite mileage for fans of any degree.
Kendrick was already versatile in the flow-department, but he takes it to the next level even in that regard, with “U” being a prime example: he screams. He cries. He raps while drunk:
You ain’t no brother, you ain’t no disciple, you ain’t no friend/A friend never leave Compton for profit or leave his best friend/Little brother you promised you’d watch him before they shot him
The album is highly emotional, and Kendrick’s passion shines through on every single track. Even “i,” which got somewhat lukewarm reception from fans upon its release, feels vital in context of the album. It’s much needed catharsis after an album full of vented anger and frustration. If section.80 set the stage for the story of Kendrick’s life on good kid, m.A.A.d city, then To Pimp A Butterfly shifts focus to Kendrick’s place in the macro. It feels like the album Kendrick wanted to make all along, but didn’t have the means or words to do it yet: he had to tell his story before he could move on to the bigger picture. As previously mentioned, spoken word is recurring and incorporated throughout, and Kendrick uses it to explain the “caterpillar and butterfly” concept (how they are two sides of the same person) at the end of “Mortal Man”:
One thing [the caterpillar] notices is how much the world shuns him but praises the butterfly. The butterfly represents the talent, the thoughtfulness, and the beauty within the caterpillar. But havin’ a harsh outlook on life, the caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak and figures out a way to pimp it to its own benefits.
Kendrick crafted To Pimp A Butterfly too intricately to be able to fully deconstruct it after a few listens, and there’s far too much packed into this 80-minute record to be able to touch on everything (plus, we wouldn’t want to give everything away). But when all is said and done, To Pimp A Butterfly is potentially one of the most important albums of this generation, and more-so possibly Kendrick’s best work to date. You will not be disappointed.
This morning, I was given a unique opportunity: to hear Kendrick Lamar’s forthcoming album, To Pimp a Butterfly. While our official review will appear once the album drops—and we have had ample time to soak it in and truly pick it apart—we have some preliminary thoughts we’ve prepared for you, our readers and fellow Kendrick fans. Keep in mind that these are brief, first impressions and we don’t want to give too much away: this is truly an album you need to hear for yourself, so stop reading now if you don’t want anything spoiled. Production and feature credits are listed to the best of our ability, but there has yet to be an officially published list.
Please go out and support Kendrick Lamar and Top Dawg Entertainment by purchasing To Pimp A Butterfly on March 23rd.
As the album fades in, we hear the crackle of a record and a distorted sample of Boris Gardner’s “Every N*gger is a Star.” After forty-five seconds, the sample abruptly cuts out and the beat drops: we hear P-Funk. We hear George Clinton:
When the four corners of this coc00n collide, you’ll slip through the cracks hoping that you’ll survive. Gather your wind, take a deep look inside, are you really who they idolize? To pimp a butterfly.
To Pimp A Butterfly is jazzy. It’s soulful. It’s (p-)funky. There are even elements of gospel and spoken word. It incorporates nearly every genre of black music and mashes them together flawlessly. Beats switch fairly frequently and each track bleeds into the next, making for a holistic, seamless experience. While it’s near-impossible to discern production credits, the hypnotic keys on “How Much A Dollar Cost” scream Dr. Dre (who also speaks briefly on “Wesley’s Theory”). To compare it to Kendrick’s past work, it’s more section.80 than it is good kid, m.A.A.d city, but it’s most certainly a beast of its own—and that’s a good thing.
For those worried about the album’s racially charged content, fear not: the majority of it is not as abrasive or militant as single “The Blacker the Berry” would suggest. It’s genuinely thought-provoking without being heavy-handed or pandering, getting its point across through dark humor (“Sneakin’ through the back window I’m a good field nikka/I made a flower for you outta cotton just to chill with you,” he raps on “Complexion”). Though it contains 80-minutes of heavy subject matter, most of To Pimp A Butterfly‘s production is relatively laid-back: other than a few songs (“U,” “The Blacker the Berry”), it’s not something that’s going to be a mood-killer at a party. Whether you’re a casual listener or the type of person who analyzes lyrics on Rap Genius, this album appears to have near-infinite mileage for fans of any degree.
Kendrick was already versatile in the flow-department, but he takes it to the next level even in that regard, with “U” being a prime example: he screams. He cries. He raps while drunk:
You ain’t no brother, you ain’t no disciple, you ain’t no friend/A friend never leave Compton for profit or leave his best friend/Little brother you promised you’d watch him before they shot him
The album is highly emotional, and Kendrick’s passion shines through on every single track. Even “i,” which got somewhat lukewarm reception from fans upon its release, feels vital in context of the album. It’s much needed catharsis after an album full of vented anger and frustration. If section.80 set the stage for the story of Kendrick’s life on good kid, m.A.A.d city, then To Pimp A Butterfly shifts focus to Kendrick’s place in the macro. It feels like the album Kendrick wanted to make all along, but didn’t have the means or words to do it yet: he had to tell his story before he could move on to the bigger picture. As previously mentioned, spoken word is recurring and incorporated throughout, and Kendrick uses it to explain the “caterpillar and butterfly” concept (how they are two sides of the same person) at the end of “Mortal Man”:
One thing [the caterpillar] notices is how much the world shuns him but praises the butterfly. The butterfly represents the talent, the thoughtfulness, and the beauty within the caterpillar. But havin’ a harsh outlook on life, the caterpillar sees the butterfly as weak and figures out a way to pimp it to its own benefits.
Kendrick crafted To Pimp A Butterfly too intricately to be able to fully deconstruct it after a few listens, and there’s far too much packed into this 80-minute record to be able to touch on everything (plus, we wouldn’t want to give everything away). But when all is said and done, To Pimp A Butterfly is potentially one of the most important albums of this generation, and more-so possibly Kendrick’s best work to date. You will not be disappointed.
