A sometimes patchy but entertaining claim to the throne from hip-hop’s unstoppable star.
At this point, the name Kendrick is synonymous with the word “hip-hop”. Your old mum might not listen to rap music, or the radio, or Spotify, but she’s probably heard of Kendrick after 2024. He holds commercial success that other socially conscious rappers can’t come close to, and cultural recognition that superstars of the same level can’t quite authenticate. Within the past few months, he’s gone from sleeping giant mode to battle tested and triumphant, grammy-nominated (again), streaming record-shattering stardom. We’ve seen MC’s before on such runs label themselves titles from “Best Rapper Alive” to literally claiming they’re a God. In the year that he’s undoubtedly dominated, it’s only fair he puffs out his chest a little bit, right?
Well, to top off his current term as hip-hop’s president elect, he’s surprised us out of the blue with a new album, GNX. Maybe the sudden drop is indicative of this record’s spirit – rather than another conceptual mammoth for us to pore over and debate, this outing feels like a quick rush, where most of it can be taken at face value. Where Mr. Morale was full of self-criticism and therapeutic language, now it’s mostly been traded for swagger, self-aggrandizing and scorn for those in his way. A danceable, 12-track encore for one of the biggest music beefs in history, and a chance to represent his coast and C-walk on the graves of his adversaries.
“Wacced Out Murals” leads with confidence right out the gate – a menacing beat with a pulsing, distorted bass and triumphant horns, a fitting fanfare for the current king returning from one of the most spiteful wars we’ve seen in recent pop culture. Reassuring us it’s “Fuck everybody, that’s on my body”, he’s still on the same smoke that we’ve seen for whoever he deems on the other side. He raps “This is not for lyricists… fuck a double entendre, I want you to feel this shit”, setting a tone for the album. This one isn’t trying to pull any Pulitzers. He might have set out to “watch the party die” a few months ago, but this time it seems like he’s gearing up to start his own celebration.
Which underlines some of the upbeat West-Coast sounds he’s incorporated into this tape. ‘Squabble Up”, it’s title and chorus using the LA slang I only recently learned from Snowfall, has a bumping instrumental with elements of G Funk and Hyphy. It’s hook “I feel good, get the fuck out my face” reinforces the slightly contradictory nature of a few of these numbers – victorious, bouncing, party tracks that are venomous and confrontational at the same time. The formula for his smash hit and summer haymaker “Not Like Us” is repeated a few times to varying degrees of success – hooky, up-tempo Cali-funk jams that are made for your club, car, or cardio session rather than over-contemplation. Its most vibrant rendition is on “TV Off”, where the copycat violin samples lead into a blaring horn breakdown and a meme-worthy scream of “Mustaaaaaarrrrd!!!” to shout out his collaborator/producer.
There’s clear influence from Drakeo the Ruler in some of the rushed flows of “Hey Now” and “Peekaboo”, and he brings a roster of LA artists to appear at various points through the track list. These tunes can feel a little jarring with Kendrick’s odd vocal inflections and some droning beats. But in an era when regional sounds in hip hop can be undermined by trends and nationalized/globalized sub-genres, it’s interesting to hear a release so territorially tied, from the trunk-bangers to the glossy, sunset synth stylings on tracks like “Luther” and “Dodger Blue”. Producers Sounwave and Jack Antonoff do a good job of balancing stripped down beats with layered flourishes and live instrumentation and arrangements that we’ve heard decorating Good Kid, M.A.A.D City and To Pimp a Butterfly.
While it might be his least experimental/boundary pushing release so far, it’s surely his most ambitious in attaining top of the totem-pole status. We’re far from telling his peers “Sit down, be humble” – it’s clear this time around that he’s no longer aiming to be the torchbearer for the legends that came before him, but solidify his spot next to, and even above them. This is seen sending subtle prods at Snoop and Weezy for supposed slights against him, quoting Biggie lyrics verbatim, or shouting out Nas as the only one who congratulated him on his upcoming Super Bowl show (the beat for “Man at The Garden” also sounds similarly eery, and eerily similar to Nas’s “One Mic”).
But no matter how acclaimed you are, and how much you’re repping the West, the 2Pac impression/beat rip of “Reincarnated” feels self-congratulatory at best, and corny and unnecessary at worst. The compelling writing that tells the stories of blues legend John Lee Hooker, and a Chitlin’ Circuit vocalist presumed to be Dinah Washington, feels slightly undermined by the “Pac-stiche” performance. It’s not nearly as hollow as Drake’s “Taylor Made Freestyle” AI Pac filter, but that should have been proof enough to let the legend rest.
And I’m sure there’s a hundred die-hard fans that can tell me “Bing-bop-boom-boom-boom-bap-bam, the type of shit I’m on you wouldn’t understand” is intricate poetry referencing a wizard’s spell, a comic book beatdown, the SupaHot Fire sketches and the Joe Pesci introduction from Goodfellas all in one. That doesn’t make it a good bar, one that other rappers would rightfully be groaned at for, especially on a track with a hook that claims “What they talkin’ bout? They talkin’ bout nothing”. But hey, whatever floats your boat, or bounces your lowrider.
As much as some listeners clamoured for a more fun, less complex version of Kendrick after a discography full of grand, thoughtful themes, the most captivating verses in this album are still when he’s focused on being the best lyricist and storyteller – “The Heart Pt.6” illustrates his come-up with his Black Hippy/TDE comrades, with endearing memories of “Ab-Soul in the corner, mumbling raps, fumbling packs of Black and Milds” and how “Sounwave let me borrow his clothes for shows”. Closing track “Gloria” recalls the history of an up and down relationship and its blossoming, fallouts, jealousies and dedication, until a final reveal that he’s been speaking about his pen rather than his partner, done with enough subtlety and metaphor that the revelation is unexpected on first listen but so cleanly recognizable on the second.
All in all, this album and its shadow drop seem to be all about defying expectations, a short collection of songs packing quick punches in another bid for heavyweight champion of the world. This slightly uneven release is far from his best work, yet still manages to be one of the more engaging of 2024. If you’re already invested in the Kendrick hype train, you’ll surely enjoy his energy and eccentricities here. And if you don’t already think he’s the GOAT, he surely wouldn’t have a problem telling you himself.
RATING: 7/10