Tuesday, October 30, 2018

To Pimp A Butterfly

Music is a tough art to review.
As much as it brings people together, it feels like the endless array of genres alone can create great divisiveness when anyone attempts to define or explain why a certain artist, song or album is worth listening to. Hell, even with the artists and songs I enjoy listening to, very rarely do I ever listen to albums in their entirety.

As I previously mentioned, glancing at the list that people consider to be the 'best albums of all time', most of the albums and artists are ones I've never listened to (I tend to avoid the ultra-mainstream). I'm also wondering if I should try to listen to each album multiple times, as obviously certain albums just need to grow on you.
Though some may argue it detracts from the overall experience, I feel the necessity to listen whilst simultaneously reading the lyrics on genius.com - especially for rap albums!

Best case scenario: I become exposed to some great new music.
Worst case scenario: I end up giving bad reviews to most of these albums and stop reviewing music altogether. To help to ease this burden, I've simplified my reviewing system from the letter grades of my past reviews to just concluding whether or not something is worth purchasing.

I'm sincerely hoping to comprehend all of the love for this album, especially since my next music review will also be another Kendrick Lamar effort, and I've never heard a single one of his tracks.

The album opens up to set the notion that black people in racist America are being discriminated against, but even when a black individual becomes a celebrity, their expectation to shut up and entertain, and overall exploitation (being pimped out) at the hands of the wealthy and how that can blind them and bring ruin to their life. The album serves to explain how success for a black man in the music industry isn't all glittering grills. It also brings up the feeling of guilt when realizing that the people you lived with earlier in life mostly remain struggling in the streets, as well as themes of self-hatred within black communities.

Musically, the smooth, funky jazz flows are the highlights sprinkled throughout the album. I'm finding myself either enjoying the music or the lyrics, but only about half the time do I find myself appreciating both.

I give Kendrick Lamar a lot of credit for the symbolism in his writing. This album has plenty of value in that department. A good chunk of this recording feels more like an open mic recital - which is great, and it certainly serves its purpose. 

This album requires your attention. It asks that you listen to it speak and understand what it's saying instead of taking part in a deaf conversation.
If you're looking for an art project to listen to late in the evening in low light, then you may be inclined to buy.
If you're looking for an album to raise the volume up on or looking for songs you could listen to on repeat, I'd recommend that you borrow it, instead.

I would've enjoyed it more with fewer intros, outros, and beat changes. Still, a careful listen is recommended whilst checking off lyrical references to Wesley Snipes' tax evasion, the problem with Obama (who happens to absolutely love this album) and his presidency, as well as our innate hypocrisies when it comes to the people we hate, and the people we fail to help when we have the capacity to do so.

Making the Playlist:  
'These Walls'
'Hood Politics'
'The Blacker the Berry'
'You Ain't Gotta Lie (Momma Said)'

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