Mr. Morale & The Double-Edged Sword

In 2022, what is there to even say about Kendrick Lamar that hasn’t been said already? Since blowing up at the start of the decade, he’s been hailed as not just a poet, but as one of the most prestigious writers of our generation. With fans and English professors alike dissecting his albums with the same level of attention and reverence given to some of the greatest novels of all time. He’s been hailed as a prophet, the voice of the people, and for a while, hip-hop’s savior. So, after disappearing for 5 years, the hip-hop world was waiting with bated breath to hear what the artist had to say next. What we got was a grand theatrical, yet rough-around-the-edges, album that had Kendrick facing his most personal demons. A deconstruction of himself that makes it clear to anybody listening: Kendrick Lamar is not your savior.
As a huge fan of Kendrick since I was an early teen, I can say one thing I’ve never really been a huge fan of is the whole “rap’s savior” title that has been placed on him. Even back in 2014 when I feel like it was very normal to see him being called that in forums and comment sections online, it always made me cringe. It was so lame to label him the savior because it implied that he was the only one bringing “real rap” back and by now we all agree the “bring back real rap” crowd was always annoying. I felt like the whole savior complex we formed around Kendrick was always corny and a little weird. That sentiment around him evolved after the release of his third LP, “To Pimp A Butterfly.” after that Kendrick wasn’t just seen as a savior of rap, but as a sort of modern-day prophet. It was a masterful body of work that poignantly explored the experience of being black in America. It became more than an album, it became a cultural moment. The album was so impactful that the single “Alright” became the anthem of the Black Lives Matter movement in 2015. I don’t blame anyone for seeing Kendrick as a sort of sage-like figure at this point, even my 15-year-old self saw him like this at that point of his career. This sentiment would be further amplified when he dropped his follow-up, 2017’s “DAMN.”
The album was a commercial juggernaut, becoming the highest-selling album of that year. The album included some of Kendrick’s biggest hits, singles like “HUMBLE” and “DNA,” to fan-favorite deep cuts like the masterfully written and performed album closer “DUCKWORTH.” Kendrick became the first rapper to win a Pulitzer Prize for the album. At this point, Kendrick’s legacy was stamped, he was the rap king/savior we crowned him as all those years ago. Then things got weird. Many writers, critics, and fans of Kendrick, particularly his white fans, began to see Kendrick as someone who stood above rap. Instead of seeing him as a part of that culture, they began to see him as an outlier, or exception. A lot of takes went from Kendrick bringing real rap back to Kendrick is above the standards of rap. That he represents something that the modern-day rapper couldn’t reach. I’ve never liked this kind of take for any artist, even if the one they were talking about was my favorite. The pedestal that we were putting Kendrick on became ridiculously high, so high that in 2020 during the tumultuous summer that was filled with protests and grief, it was very normal for me to scroll down my Twitter feed and see people say, “I wonder what Kendrick has to say about this.” There was even minor backlash when people didn’t see any photos of him at any of the protests, as if that was seriously important at the time. I think we forgot to remember the fact that Kendrick is just a man and by that description, he is flawed. That’s the exact message Kendrick aims to share on his fifth album “Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers.”
Easily his most raw and personal album to date, “Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers” is a sprawling double album that is essentially a deconstruction of the myth of Kendrick Lamar, Hip Hop’s savior. From the incredible first track “United In Grief,” you can tell that Kendrick is going to be taking on his most personal demons as he touches on his issues with lust, generational curses, and the excessive spending that leaves him feeling empty. We all grieve differently, Kendrick says near the end of the opener. That would be an extremely important point for the rest of the album. As Kendrick asks us to not see him as some savior, or sage, or king, but as one of us, a human who grieves and ends up hurting others as we do in our lives. Kendrick showcases his journey to getting help through therapy. He takes on his lust addiction, adultery, misogyny, homophobia, transphobia, and past trauma. It makes the album at many points hard to listen to as he does not hold back, but it also makes the conclusion he reaches, choosing himself and his family over everything else, so much more of an impactful moment. He asks the audience to stop seeing him as something more than his rap peers, as he is one of them. He asks us to try to understand the abuse that many rappers faced at young points in their lives to better understand and not judge how they are as adults.
Here would be my one issue with the album. That message is great, and I love Kendrick’s empathy. One of my favorite things about Kendrick is the empathy he approaches topics in his music with, but my issue is more with the specific rapper he uses to convey this. There are many controversial moments on the album, but one that many couldn’t vibe with was the inclusion of Kodak Black, who (trigger warning for the topic I am about to mention) was indicted on charges of sexual assault in 2017. Many people were not happy about this and rightfully so. Kendrick used Kodak as an example of the rapper that mainstream (white) audiences and “cancel culture” find vile, but he sees himself in Kodak. I understand the point he’s trying to make here, that he is no better than him and that we should possibly pay attention to the fact that Kodak had probably faced abuse young and that led to him doing the things he did later in life. My issue is that Kendrick didn’t do something as awful as Kodak, and he failed to speak on the side of the victims of the abuse that figures such as Kodak have done. Further yet, we just don’t see the want to change from Kodak that we see Kendrick display throughout the album, so it makes it even harder to just kind of absolve him of what he did. But then again, who are we to judge Kodak as if we don’t hurt others by redistributing the pain we accumulate to others? Should look at one sin as being worse than another sin? There are a lot of nuances, but what Kodak did was not okay and him facing scrutiny for it makes sense to me. I mean, he’s bigger than he was when that case went down so it’s not like he truly suffered. I understand that hurt people hurt people and so we should look at the cause of the pain, but that doesn’t mean we should ignore what they did in that process. I believe Kendrick meant well, but he just might’ve missed the mark with that aspect of the record. I must say though that I might not be the best person to speak on this and you should come to your own conclusion on topics like these.
In the lead-up to “Mr. Morale,” Kendrick was dealing with the double-edged sword called fame. Every release was met with worldwide acclaim and every release put him more in the center of culture as an icon. At the same time, every release came with a higher pedestal to be placed on. At one point, Kendrick openly embraced it as he referred to himself as “hip-hop’s rhyme savior” as a brag in “The Heart Part 4.” However, now the pressure and the scrutiny that comes with that position is just too much for one man to handle. It’s unfair to hold an artist to that level of status. The world saw Kendrick as flawless, being unable to do any wrong, but he was flawed and imperfect in reality. The first step of changing is accepting those flaws, but once you publicly do that, you give up that crown they placed on your head. Kendrick seems more than fine with that, he’s choosing to be present in his own life, for his family’s sake. It’s telling that the last line in the final verse on the album is “Sorry I didn’t save the world my friend/ I was too busy building mine again.” Kendrick chose himself, and he wants us to choose ourselves too.