Musical wonder Kendrick Lamar released his sixth career studio album, GNX, on Nov. 22. The surprise release shocked the world, coming just months after his infamous rap beef with rival artist Drake. Yet, since the initial excitement has abated, many have argued that it does not live up to the hype. So, is GNX worth its salt? Let’s talk.
The LP, noticeably shorter in its 12-song makeup than most of Lamar’s other releases, immediately jumps out with its lowercase, unusual song titles. Take the first track of the bunch, “wacced out murals.” Its Latin-style background tune, its dark lyrical imagery, its confident tone—an apt introduction to an ambitious album.
Then comes “squabble up,” a song whose intro might be one of the best I’ve heard in a long time. It’s one that I had heard rumored online as being part of an unreleased song, and after the first second of the track, I was immediately filled with an intensely fierce excitement. Sadly, my elation was cut short about 35 seconds later, following which the song’s melody shifted to feeling like a weird, broken record player.
And listen, I don’t want to stay on this too long, but honestly, as someone who likes all kinds of different music, I have quite a lot of patience when it comes to creative melodies; song tunes can certainly be as interesting, ambiguous, and limit-pushing as an artist wants to make them. However, in the case of “squabble up,” the track’s melody crosses the line from being creatively ambiguous to arrogantly imperious—an impression echoed at times throughout the album.
Now, this is not to say that the work is substandard—far from it. In fact, several songs range from good to exceptional. “heart pt. 6” and “gloria” are both excellent, delivering masterfully performed, enchanting melodies and lyrics alongside equally enthralling beats. In “reincarnated,” Lamar’s famed lyrics take charge, the artist’s strikingly graceful lyrical modulation capturing one’s whole attention from even their very inception. In many of these, the Spanish mariachi intros are truly all but the cherry on top of the overflowing cake.
And then, the epitome of the album’s greatness: “luther.” Third on the tracklist, first in Lamar’s current Spotify “Popular” category, and even somewhere beyond that in the minds of those of us who’ve spent several a dawdling year waiting patiently for another Lamar album, the song is something special indeed. Everything about it—the innovative beat, the ravishing music, both coupled with the almost heavenly intertwining of Lamar and fellow artist SZA’s voices upon first listen create a feeling not unlike that of floating on those warm, soft, neverending clouds you used to sleep on in your childhood dreams. “luther” does much more than just ask to be played—it implores it.
But then, alongside this lineup of give-or-take 4-6 wonderful songs are also another half of the LP which, in my opinion, juxtapose the beauty of the formers with something of the opposite. Some are just not all that great; others, like “squabble up,” design something great and then successfully implode after deciding to veer off into weird musical patterns. “tv off” in particular comes to mind, whose catchy, intriguing first half is, in my opinion, most regrettably tainted by the second half, culminating in the rather irritating “Mustard” line.
So then why, after the true genius of Lamar’s earlier discography, is half of the artist’s most recent permeated with slightly strange, not at all top-of-the-line tracks like this? Well, here is my explanation, and it is also part of why I think Kendrick Lamar is one of the few greatest rap artists of all time:
Throughout his career, Lamar has made headlines not by sticking to the status quo, but by pushing the limits. Following his successes with albums To Pimp a Butterfly and good kid, m.A.A.d city, rather than sticking to the script, like almost all musicians do, Lamar chose a different path forward: experimentation. And he did so masterfully.
The 2016 untitled unmastered. and 2017 DAMN. releases both redesigned Lamar’s style into a less R&B-like, more modern rap-oriented direction. A whole five years later, Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers’ whopping 19-song tracklist dropped. Though labeled by many as something of a failure, what the album did in fact is just continue this trend; it flipped the script on its head, in the process creating some of the most beautiful pieces of art ever made, including “United In Grief” and “Father Time.”
Finally, earlier this year, Lamar once more shocked the world, single-handedly reviving a long-running rap conflict with Drake, taking the superstar head on, and crushing him beyond all possible doubts. But why do this? Many have speculated the reasons—fans cite rightful anger at Drake, critics a desire for cultural relevance. The truth lies, so far as I suspect, in neither of these. Lamar already knows what being the cultural sensation feels like, and Drake’s invention of the “Big Three” could not possibly be enough to infuriate Lamar to this extent.
No, he did it to once again push the limits. He wanted to see what writing the combative, fierce lyrics of his part on “Like That” would feel like. To hear, weeks after his initial punch, the world’s collective jaw drop to the floor upon hearing his release of the unexpectedly beautiful yet viciously brutal “euphoria,” in my opinion among the greatest diss tracks of all time. Oh, and the wildly popular “Not Like Us” that took the internet by storm last summer? Nah, that’s just a convenient byproduct.
Lamar’s boundary-pushing has never stopped, and that is why the hate that GNX has received is, I believe, invalid. Was the whole album great? No. Were there strange, even unpleasant, riffs or motifs? Sure. But in the end, those unpleasant riffs are precisely what guide music forward. They are paradoxically why Kendrick Lamar is among the all-time greats, why he is able to create bona fide majesty like that in “luther.” Artistic genius is shown one’s ability to access the frontier and then bend it to their will. In GNX, it could not be clearer that Lamar has achieved that task.