Album Review: GNX by Kendrick Lamar
Kendrick Lamar surprise-released his sixth studio album, coming off the most prolific battle in hip-hop history, Pop Out show, Super Bowl announcement, watching the party die, and smear campaigns.
KENDRICK. JUST. DROPPED.
Those are the three words that the music industry is afraid of.
Following the release of Future and Metro Boomin’s “Like That,” a track that stirred significant controversy and set the stage for a series of lyrical confrontations, Kendrick Lamar embarked on a path of musical dialogue with his peers. This began with his response to four diss tracks against Drake, where he defended his honor and showcased his lyricism and low blows. His approach was not just about countering the disses but about elevating the conversation, transforming what could have been mere animosity into a broader discourse on authenticity, legacy, and the essence of hip-hop.
The culmination of this narrative was vividly displayed at The Pop Out: Ken & Friends. Kendrick performed and symbolically reconciled with the community and his peers in this concert event on Juneteenth. Here, he brought together various West Coast artists, signaling an end to feuds and a return to the collaborative spirit of hip-hop. This event was pivotal, leading to the announcement of next year’s Super Bowl, which caused controversy among the Drake and Weezy stans.
The transition from “Untitled (Watch the Party Die)” to Grammy nods to his surprise-released sixth studio release, GNX; this statement makes it perfectly clear: Kenny stands on business. The title “GNX” is inspired by the 1987 Buick Grand National, Kendrick’s dream car as a child. The album opens with the powerful choir of the Mariachi singer from Los Angeles, Deyra Barrera, whose voice, like a cry of pain, accompanies the entire musical path. A theatrical voice that screams sadness and anger guides along the twelve tracks like a red thread uniting all the sound speech.
Kendrick’s first lines are already a manifesto:
“Yesterday, somebody wacced out my mural.”
It is not so much the physical destruction of a mural that interests Lamar but the profound meaning that this image contains. It is the metaphor of a society that destroys, lacks respect, and feeds on hatred and verbal violence. An idea that permeates the entire album, where ferocity and lack of scruples become recurring themes, but that does not stop only at the denunciation: they are also the starting point for a broader reflection on the world, music, and life.
Mr. Get Off lets off no punches on “Wacced Out Murals,” as the intensity is immediately apparent. Lamar raps about betrayal, perseverance, and self-affirmation in the madness. His razor-sharp wordplay and multifaceted metaphors are on full display (“I’ll kill ‘em all before I let ‘em kill my joy” and “Put they head on a Cuban link as a monument”). The song’s structure, alternating between English and Spanish sections (thanks to Deyra Barrera), adds cultural depth to the West. Lamar’s unflinching honesty shines through as he confronts industry politics, personal struggles, and the complexities of fame, addressing Lil Wayne on the Super Bowl snub talk (“Used to bump Tha Carter III, I held my Rollie chain proud/Irony, I think my hard work let Lil Wayne down”), Snoop Dogg for posting the “Taylor Made Freestyle” on his Instagram story and shouting out Nas for congratulating him on the SB pick.
His ability to seamlessly blend deeply personal anecdotes with broader social commentary with “Old soul, bitch, I probably built them pyramids/Ducking strays when I rap battled in the Nickersons.” The track’s final verse is a blistering critique of the hip-hop industry and societal hypocrisy pandering to The Boy, “Ayy, fuck anybody empathetic to the other side, I vow.” Throughout the song, Lamar’s technical skill is evident in his varied flow patterns, internal rhymes, and complex wordplay, solidifying his position as one of hip-hop’s most skilled and thought-provoking lyricists.
The follow-up is the snippet from “Not Like Us,” which is “Squabble Up.” Throughout the track, Lamar’s delivery alternates between rapid-fire flows and more measured, contemplative passages, demonstrating his technical versatility as an emcee. With its minimalist yet hard-hitting beat, the production provides an ideal backdrop for Lamar’s lyrical gymnastics. Particularly noteworthy is the third verse, where Lamar’s wordplay reaches its zenith: “Ghetto child, it was Black & Milds with the Smirnoff/Yeehaw, we outside, whoadie ‘bout to kill him off.”
“Man of the Garden” parallels biblical paradise and the heights of success, allowing Lamar to craft a nuanced narrative that intertwines personal history with broader existential questions and manifestations: “I just want it all.” Throughout the piece and GNX, Lamar meticulously catalogs his experiences, choices, and hardships, each as a justification for his current status. The title track may not stand out due to the beat, but Dot lets the homies of Peysoh, Hitta J3, and Young Threat handle the business on the microphone.
On the opposite end, the hardest song of the year goes to “TV Off,” as Lamar’s verses dive into identity and responsibility, where he portrays himself as a teacher and a protector, cautioning against trusting “weird niggas” with personal safety and emphasizing the importance of taking risks (“How many should I send? Send ‘em all”) for those he values over a two-part West Coast beats. His self-awareness is further highlighted in “Bitch, I cut my granny off if she don’t see it how I see it,” which is a crazy line before switching to up the electrifying, orchestral switch-up provided by “MUSTAAARRRRDDDDDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!”
More West Coast bangers include the trunk-slapping “Hey Now” with Dody6 and “Peekaboo” with AzChike, who’s featured on ScHoolboy Q’s last album, is cleverly utilized as a metaphor for stealth and surprise, painting vivid images of material luxury and street credibility. But “Luther” is a certified love hit waiting to happen as Kendrick duets with SZA that artfully samples Luther Vandross and Cheryl Lynn’s “If This World Were Mine” and envisions an idealistic world, deploying metaphoric language to depict a transformation from suffering to serenity, a place of light supplanting darkness. Through his words, he expresses how his partner, an anchor amidst chaos, ignites inspiration and maintains his mental equilibrium.
“Reincarnated” opens with a seamless transition from the Spanish-language poem that sets the thematic foundation of GNX, pointing to the interconnectedness of cultural and personal histories. The song expertly samples 2Pac’s “Made Niggaz,” breathing life into the auricular experience while simultaneously paying homage to a cornerstone of hip-hop heritage. This choice of sample engages with the legacy of 2Pac in a manner that balances reverence with innovation, highlighting the enduring impact of West Coast influences on modern music. It presents a critical stance against artificial reproductions of iconic vocals, such as Drake’s previous deployment of AI-generated 2Pac vocals on “Taylor Made,” indicating Kendrick’s commitment to storytelling and respect for past legends.
Kendrick articulates a profound reflection on kinship within his craft, connecting his identity to pivotal figures in music history. His invocation of R&B guitarist and a Chitlin' Circuit singer underlines his vision of inherited brilliance within the Black music community. By spotlighting artists from different disciplines and contexts, Kendrick emphasizes his influences’ diversity and richness, acknowledging their zeniths and downfalls. In evoking these figures, Kendrick crafts a narrative recognizing the cyclical nature of artistic achievement and personal trials, fostering an enriched understanding of collective cultural growth.
His narrative strategy is not merely a retrospective homage but an examination of the duality of fame and personal struggles. Rather than draw clear distinctions between past incarnations and his own story, he suggests a continuum wherein the triumphs and tribulations of historical figures inform the present. As he merges his artistic career with theirs, Kendrick invites contemplation of legacy—not as fixed or linear—but as a dynamic lineage. This approach encourages current creators to draw wisdom from predecessors, challenging them to build upon established legacies while navigating contemporary challenges. Through “Reincarnated,” Kendrick celebrates the agency to transform inherited stories and melodies into new forms that carry forward the essence of cultural and musical evolution.
The climax of GNX is the latest installment in his “Heart” series, eschewing the drama of his much-publicized feud with Drake to focus on introspective themes and personal history, presenting an elaborate lyrical narrative that speaks to his evolution as an artist. Kendrick turns the spotlight on his formative years, detailing his journey from a young, ambitious artist to a widely respected figure in the hip-hop community. Moving through layers of his past, the track’s structure positions Kendrick not as a provocateur but as a custodian of his narrative.
He voiced his early career challenges and triumphs, sketching a vivid picture of his emergence from Compton’s streets to global recognition. Through detailed recollections, Kendrick paints a canvas of resilience and ambition, steering his narrative away from momentary disputes. The song reflects on his departure from Top Dawg Entertainment and Black Hippy, shedding light on his relationships with past collaborators and exploring artistic growth and change.
The track examines Kendrick’s departure from Top Dawg Entertainment and Black Hippy in an introspective tone. Over SWV’s instrumental use of “Use Your Heart,” he balances nostalgia and progression. Here, the artist reflects on crucial moments that shaped his identity, personally and professionally.
“Ab-Soul in the corner mumblin’ raps, fumblin’ packs of Black & Milds
Crumblin’ kush ’til he cracked a smile
His words legendary, wishin’ I could rhyme like him
Studied his style to define my pen.”
The lyrics insinuate a bittersweet reconciliation with the past, shedding light on collaborations that once defined him. As Kendrick recounts, “From TDE to free me, always carried my weight,” he acknowledges the support and constraints of these affiliations, underlining a personal evolution that extends beyond organizational allegiance. This portrayal is layered with gratitude and an acknowledgment of the complex equation of growth, teetering between loyalty and self-discovery.
Closing with a meditation on his influence within cultural and societal paradigms, Kendrick lyrically distills the essence of hip-hop as an art form and a cultural force. His reflections transcend the mere enumeration of past collaborations and focus on the broader impact of his work on his community and the genre at large. By retelling stories of collaboration and mentorship, Kendrick reaffirms his deep roots within hip-hop culture.
The narrative is raw and honest, leaving us with an understanding that his legacy is not solely tied to external validation or dissent but constructed through an unyielding commitment to personal and collective storytelling. In doing so, Kendrick reaffirms his dedication to the original ethos of “The Heart” series: a continuous dialogue between the artist, his history, and the world around him.
On the smooth “Dodger Blue,” Kendrick Lamar crafts a vivid portrait of life experiences rooted deeply in Los Angeles, where identity and the environment are intertwined with the struggles and triumphs of everyday existence. Through a lens of authenticity, Kendrick challenges outsiders’ perceptions: “Don’t say you hate L.A. when you don’t travel past the 10.” His sing-songy flows with confidence and directness, reinforcing his unyielding sense of self and pride in his roots, as seen in the aggressive assertion of his willingness to confront challenges: “Have you ever took a fade and ran three more back to back?” As the chorus transitions, featuring contributions from WallieTheSensei, Roddy Ricch, and Siete, they balance bravado, critique, and reflection within this song to reveal a layered, nuanced portrait of L.A., where the complications of community and self-awareness converge astutely.
GNX ends with a plot twist from Kendrick Lamar’s storytelling ability to transform a broader discourse on the inescapable conflicts and affectionate nuances that define a long-term partnership on “Gloria.” The opening verse introduces the complex dynamic between Kendrick and his partner (you can make the connection that it’s about Whitney), expressing control and commitment (“Me and my bitch got a complicated relationship...”). Through vivid imagery, such as recalling youthful moments of rebellion and ambition, the verse paints a picture of how their bond was both tumultuous and nurturing. “Dreams of sellin’ narcotics, runnin’ blocks, or robbin’ banks,” says Kendrick, as he illustrates the reckless yet ambitious youth mindset, reflecting a dual longing for identity and material success.
The hook delivered by SZA amplifies eternal devotion amidst uncertainty (“Whenever you want me, you got me ’til the end of time”), portraying relationships as a blend of fear and undying commitment. He conveys is palpable as he recounts moments of vulnerability, such as when his partner consoles him after a personal loss, promising to absorb his anger and grief. In the last verse, Lamar candidly addresses the challenges of trust and communication within this relationship, alluding to a time when their different life paths threatened their unity and bringing his point home when he concludes: “My woman and my right hand, my saint and my sin/Ain’t no bitch like my bitch ‘cause that bitch been my... Pen.” That is unbelievable.
As you can tell, his sixth release doesn’t have a concept compared to his first five albums (and it’s not the goal here), but it plays out like a directorial mixtape and is the most West Coast-sounding Dot project we’ve ever heard. GNX is his actual victory lap, with the help of his partner-in-crime Sounwave and Jack Antonoff (producer for Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, and Sabrina Carpenter). He, Dave Free, and pgLang have been flawlessly executing this run from the rollouts to presentations.
2024 would become one of the best music years as time goes by and one of the most prolific timelines for a rapper. Whether you don’t like him, his voice, his music, or his demeanor, it’s a matter of opinion, but Kendrick Lamar isn’t placed among hip-hop’s greatest rappers for no reason. His music speaks for itself. “I used to wanna rap like JAY-Z until I finally realized that JAY wasn’t me.” True: The name Kendrick Lamar has long stood for itself and is a synonym for high-quality hip-hop from Compton.
And in the end, the conclusion is inevitable: the King is always him. Undisputed, throned, hip-hop is still his reign. His voice cannot be ignored; his throne cannot be scratched. Kendrick always wins, not only with his music but, above all, with his words and the depth of his thought. “Muthafuck the Big Three/Nigga, it’s just me,” and he’s absolutely correct.
Standout (★★★★½)
Favorite Track(s): “Luther,” “Man at the Garden,” “TV Off,” “Heart Pt. 6”
Gloria was a metaphor. It was about his pen.