#MusicMay-hem: Kendrick Lamar's "Mr. Morale And The Big Steppers"

Don't be surprised if years from now, in the annals of music history, there is an entry about May 2022. The sheer number of mega-watt, eyebrow-raising music releases in this short period of time is unlike anything I have experienced in my (admittedly short) time as somewhat of a music junkie. On a single day, in fact, Friday the 13th, we witnessed the return of Kendrick Lamar, arguably the greatest rapper in the game today, indie darling Florence & The Machine with her first release since 2018, and The Black Keys, arguably one of the biggest and most important American rock bands in the last decade. If that wasn't enough, that smattering of new material came one week after the latest album from Arcade Fire, one of the biggest alternative-rock groups in the World, and one week before the new release from Harry Styles, one of the biggest pop stars in the World. It's a good thing Frank Ocean hasn't also decided to resurface this month-- yet!! --otherwise I think the Internet might actually fold in on itself.

There can be little doubt, though, that the most-hyped of all of these was Lamar’s. Celebrities laying low during the pandemic was not a new phenomenon, to be clear, but Kendrick’s conspicuous absence from the public eye long predated COVID-19. It had been nearly 4 years since we had heard new material from him, and that was the collaborative soundtrack album for Black Panther. His 3rd full-length album DAMN., released in April 2017, was the last solo project released to the masses. Thus it caused quite a stir when, in late 2021, he popped up on his cousin Baby Keem’s record, and in hit song “family ties,” promised “new flows comin’, be patient, brother.” The Melodic Blue cameos were soon followed by a fantastic Super Bowl Halftime Show performance in tandem with fellow legends of hip-hop, and soon thereafter, with an official announcement on Twitter that an album in May was forthcoming, and would be his last with his career-long label Top Dawg Entertainment.

In some ways, Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers was doomed to fail, or at least fall short of expectations, through little fault of his own. Unlike his peer Kanye West, who precedes all albums with inordinate amounts of self-promotion and headline-grabbing antics, Lamar tends to remain quiet and let his music do the talking. However, when you don’t shy away from the label “greatest rapper alive,” then drop off the face of the Earth for 5 years, the hype machine for your new album is likely bound to get out of control and set an absurd bar for your return. And in the eyes of much of the Twittersphere and blogosphere, the album was in fact a disappointment. It was harder to find nuanced praise of Mr. Morale online than it was to find take after take calling it “mid,” lamenting the lack of “bangers,” and declaring that this release was not worth the wait.

This sort of reaction was lost on most critics, however. For a period of time, Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers held an unprecedented 100 score on Metacritic, and it maintained its stay there for a while, before cringeworthy contrarianism from Pitchfork and The New York Times sank its aggregate score. Critics were far from the only ones that found fault with the online snark, though… plenty lauded it breathlessly, and I was among them. Despite my own expectations and hopes being through the roof, this album managed to exceed my expectations, mostly by once again subverting my expectations.

I don’t really know what I expected from Kendrick’s latest album, but it’s safe to say this album, both musically and tonally, was not it. In music, in lyricism, in themes, even in production, Mr. Morale was a vast departure from his previous records. There are elements of all three of his previous studio albums, too; you can pinpoint the songs and the moments of songs that could be shoehorned into good kid, m.A.A.d city, into To Pimp A Butterfly, or into DAMN. But more than anything, and completely unexpectedly, this album plays like a spiritual companion to the 2021 releases from J. Cole (The Off-Season) and Kanye West (Donda). There are sporadic forays into trap, into pop, into jazz, into R&B, and even a song-length sketch that presents like a dramatic scene of a stage production but with rhymes from Kendrick and guest actress Taylour Paige perfectly landing to a slow-building beat. In fact, even with the different musical influences, the album as a whole genuinely feels like an intimate stage production, with a tap dancing excerpt and simple piano running throughout and tying together the entire story.

Listening to all of Kendrick Lamar’s previous albums, good kid most of all, felt like watching a movie, both because of the cohesive storyline, but also the grandeur of the musical and lyrical themes. Mr. Morale, however, sees Kendrick not only at his most musically stripped-down on multiple occasions, but also lyrically at his most intimate, vulnerable, and mature.

This is evident from the very start in the attention-grabbing opener “United In Grief,” which details his accomplishments to date, but also the pitfalls and deterioration in mental health that success and fame has brought him. “N95” airs his frustration with what he decries as performative activism and superficial coping mechanisms. “Die Hard” sings about the restorative power about love and loyalty in a relationship, but just a couple tracks later, “We Cry Together,” which features the back-and-forth between himself and Paige is a deep-cutting depiction of the most toxic kind of relationship. “Father Time” and “Mother I Sober” are pained retellings of family and personal trauma, coming clean about his ‘daddy issues’ and experience of sexual assault by a family member. “Auntie Diaries” has become one of the most-discussed tracks of the whole record. Many an eyebrow was raised by Lamar’s liberal use of the f-slur in this story of two different transgender family members, and his own personal journey to acceptance and love. While I firmly understand that is not my place as a straight man to tell people to not be offended by this, and I will cede that the rapper could have hammered home his central point without the use of this specific language, my hope is that his clear intent will shine through: he and his friend’s used that word when they didn’t know any better, and struggled to be mindful and understanding of his trans relatives, but coming to a point of full acceptance of them as the humans they are, and conviction that God loves them as they are, has made him realize the ignorance of his own ways. That is a groundbreaking sentiment from a rapper with the platform that Kendrick has, and I hope that is what the legacy of this song will be. Finally, closing track “Mirror,” which plays like a sequel to “Real” off good kid, is a palette-cleansing, self-assured closer to the album, emerging from years of pain, trauma, deteriorating mental health, therapy, prayer and reflection, to ultimately choose himself, his partner, and his daughter, and nobody else.

My first take, which I aired on an exuberant Instagram story, was that this is a 10/10 album, and upon multiple re-listens, I still stand by that. The reality is that I genuinely have no real criticism of Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers; it’s not because this is the greatest album ever made, nor even his greatest album, arguably (I hate to compare masterpieces, but I would personally have both good kid m.A.A.d city and To Pimp A Butterfly edging it still). There's just nothing wrong with it, though. The production, as always, is immaculate, and though there may not be as many commercial hits, it’s his most fully realized, consistent album yet, and a work of art so vulnerable that to critique it almost feels like criticizing the man more than the artist. If this ends up being the last body of work we get from the rapper, as the album’s conclusion has led some to believe, he will exit the game every bit on top of it as he has always been.