Kendrick Lamar Wants the Party Destroyed and Rebuilt

Reflecting on how Kendrick’s victory lap from the Drake feud to the Super Bowl to rebuilding the culture might reshape hip-hop's future, pushing for a culture more rooted in substance over spectacle.

On September 8, 2024, Kendrick Lamar was announced as the headlining performer for Super Bowl 59’s halftime show at the Caesars Superdome in New Orleans. This decision carried substantial cultural weight beyond football. Kendrick had reached an apex in his career, releasing albums and singles that propelled hip-hop culture. His artistry, combining complex storytelling with social critique, had earned him multiple Grammys and even a Pulitzer Prize, cementing his status as one of the most influential figures in contemporary music. This selection for the halftime show, influenced by his historic victory in a notable feud, the “Not Like Us” extravaganza, and Juneteenth’s Pop Out show, reflected the NFL’s intent to spotlight artists of exceptional talent and influence.

However, the announcement sparked discussion among fans and critics (such as Nicki Minaj, Birdman, Juvenile, etc.) regarding the choice of halftime performers. Besides pointing fingers at JAY-Z, many contended that Lil Wayne, a native of New Orleans—the event’s host city—would have been a more fitting selection. This viewpoint emphasized the belief that local artists should represent their cities on such a prominent stage. Nevertheless, the NFL’s approach to selecting halftime entertainers has traditionally prioritized artists who can engage a global audience over those with regional ties. This strategy ensures that the halftime show remains a platform for the most renowned figures in music, regardless of their hometown.

Choosing Kendrick over local talents like Lil Wayne underscores the NFL’s philosophy for the halftime spectacle. Since its inception, the halftime show has aimed to present artists who have achieved or are poised to achieve legendary standing. This approach extends the Super Bowl’s appeal beyond the sport, attracting fans with diverse musical preferences and leveraging the event to amplify music’s cultural significance. Kendrick Lamar embodies this ideal with his worldwide acclaim and substantial impact on modern music.

The controversy surrounding Kendrick’s performance in New Orleans contrasts sharply with the backlash against Maroon 5’s halftime show in Atlanta in 2019. At that time, Maroon 5 faced heavy criticism for a perceived lack of social awareness, especially in light of the NFL’s handling of Colin Kaepernick’s protests against police brutality and racial inequality. Activists and viewers called for a boycott of the Super Bowl, questioning whether supporting the event was tantamount to endorsing the NFL’s stance. This led to a decline in viewership among Black audiences, as the event appeared disconnected from ongoing social justice movements, making artists such as Rihanna turn down the Super Bowl (which she eventually performed years later), leading others at the time to follow suit.

Furthermore, the group sought a half-dozen artists of color to perform with (featuring Cardi B, Ms. Lauryn Hill, and Usher, but declined), eventually bringing in Travis Scott and Big Boi. In contrast, Kendrick Lamar’s selection reflects his monstrous year. His return to the Super Bowl stage, having previously performed in 2022, adds depth to his selection. His earlier appearance was part of a groundbreaking lineup (with Dr. Dre, Snoop Dogg, Eminem, Mary J. Blige, and 50 Cent) that honored hip-hop, setting new expectations for musical innovation and cultural dialogue in halftime shows. As a solo headliner this time, there is heightened anticipation for Kendrick to deliver a performance that resonates musically and culturally. He aims to showcase his artistic evolution since his last appearance and to reaffirm hip-hop’s central place on the global stage.

Three days later, at 8 PM Eastern Standard Time on 09/11 during the VMAs, Kendrick Lamar surprised fans by releasing “Untitled,” aka “Watch the Party Die,” on his Instagram. This unexpected drop profoundly reflects cultural decay and renewal, drawing inspiration from the biblical narrative of Moses and the Golden Calf. Lamar envisions the current state of the hip-hop culture—the “party”—as something that must be dismantled to allow for genuine rebuilding. This concept extends beyond physical or social collapse, calling for a deep cleansing of corrupt values and systems that no longer serve the greater good.

Lamar masterfully utilizes his demeanor over a soul sample with vocals and strings to lure listeners in, only to confront them with the disintegration of the hip-hop culture he once knew. In the opening verse, Lamar critiques the genre’s state by juxtaposing contemporary figures’ moral bankruptcy with a call for uncompromising justice. He does not shy away from the harsh reality that he believes necessitates drastic measures: “We even kill the killers ‘cause they like taking innocent lives.” This line underscores the paradoxical necessity of using violence to end violence, an allusion to the cycle of destruction that has become endemic in the modern rap scene. Lamar’s invocation to “burn a whole village... it’s really that time” signals an urgent need for rebirth, eradicating the existing corrupted structures to make way for a future rooted in integrity and positive influence.

And yes, there were some bars dig at Drake (“Just walk that man down, that’ll do everyone a solid/It’s love, but tough love sometimes gotta result in violence”), and even feel for the women that have to deal with these clown men and he’ll trade them for Nipsey Hussle. Lamar turns his pleas towards divine intervention, seeking peace and clarity amidst the chaos. The call to “keep these lame niggas away from me” is not merely a dismissal of inferior talent but a rejection of the moral bankruptcy he associates with specific high-profile figures in hip-hop. The emphatic line immediately follows this, “Pocket-watching, you must be the police,” denouncing the invasive scrutiny and envy that plague his industry. Lamar’s entreaty to God for guidance and protection underscores his isolation in a field filled with superficial relationships and alliances, a sentiment he believes is exploited by media personalities like DJ Akademiks.

Verse two, which is the best verse on the track, sharpens Lamar’s indictment, extending his censure to encompass “street niggas and the corporate guys.” He critiques the duplicity of those who glorify transgressive behavior while perpetuating conflict within the community. “We can do life without ‘em, get they bodies organized, tell me if you obliged,” he raps, equating these influencers with societal parasites that must be excised for the collective good. Lamar’s vivid imagery, suggesting that these figures “jump-start neighborhood wars” and make “nasty decisions usin’ money as a backbone,” paints a bleak picture of moral decay. This culminates with rejecting those who ignore the potential for positive change, whom Lamar sees as complicit in perpetuating harm. His ultimate desire for a “new Earth,” driven by “beautiful people makin’ humanity work,” capsulizes his aspiration for a redemptive transformation within and beyond hip-hop culture.

Kendrick laments the propagation of ill-informed and sensationalist narratives within hip-hop media. This verse underscores his view that corporate and street elements are culpable in degrading the culture, with a potent call for integrity and substantive contribution. His third verse introspects his moral and philosophical struggles, mixing his aggressive stance with a desire for empathy and spiritual upliftment. “Sometimes I wonder what Lecrae would do/Fuck these niggas up or show ‘em just what prayer do?” reflect his internal conflict as he navigates the dual impulses of vengeance and piety, but also mentions that he wants to be empathetic like Dee-1 (we will not interpret the following censored line). His reference to Lecrae, an artist known for his Christian faith, symbolizes the tug-of-war between his rage and the higher path of forgiveness and positive change.

Speaking of Lecrae, he dropped his response this past Saturday since the shoutout by opening with a poignant self-reflection on the pressures and dilemmas faced within the music industry and society at large. The track opens with reflections on the culture of clout-chasing and the need for validation (“The culture got enough clout chasing vultures out here/Tryna prove they worth, they need attention”), pointing out the pervasive emptiness in seeking external approval. Lecrae delves into his past indiscretions and the use of trauma as a justification for harmful behaviors (“I use my trauma, my single Mama, to justify commas to pay the devil’s wages”), revealing a haunting self-awareness and critique. This acknowledgment of past mistakes is a crucial moment of vulnerability, allowing us to understand the depth of his transformation.

Throughout the song, Lecrae intertwines his narrative with broader societal issues, expressing outrage at systemic exploitation and moral decay. He recounts familial ties to gang violence and substance abuse (“My daddy ran with Compton Crips my uncle’s Piru/Stuck in the middle of this madness what should I choose”), illustrating the conflicting forces that shaped his path. Lecrae likens himself to historical and biblical figures (“But when I take a look in the mirror the blood of Uriah’s on my hands/‘Cause I’m that killer who had Bathsheba in his quarters”), framing his flaws within a larger context of human fallibility. Ultimately, he posits that redemption and love through faith (“All I can offer them is Jesus’ love”) solve the world’s evils, challenging secular skepticism and religious hypocrisy.

*Ransom and Ray Vaughn also dropped their freestyles to Kendrick’s track.*

The closing sections of the lyrics on Kendrick’s “Untitled” circle back to the overarching narrative of destruction and rebirth. The idea of burning down existing corrupt structures to rebuild something pure is poignantly captured in, “My nigga Jay Estrada said ‘I gotta burn it down to build it up’.” Kendrick envisions a new beginning devoid of the malignancies plaguing hip-hop culture. This closure is a condemnation and a hopeful vision for a revitalized and honest culture. He channels his frustrations through imagery and incisive critiques, balancing his call for accountability with a longing for ethical restoration. Through his nuanced storytelling, Kendrick exposes the culture’s ills and offers a pathway for redemption.

His lyrics critique modern culture, echoing the experience of Moses descending from Mount Sinai to find his people worshipping a false idol. Kendrick parallels this ancient idolatry with today’s obsession with materialism, fame, and superficial success, suggesting a betrayal of core values in favor of empty pursuits. By urging us to “watch the party die,” Lamar initiates not an end but the beginning of the transformation. This mirrors Moses’ destruction of the Golden Calf to reset his people’s moral direction. Sure, we know he’s flawed, hypocritical, and not exempt from critique, but Lamar advocates for the fall of old, corrupt structures so that something pure and new can arise.

Themes of rebirth and reconstruction permeate the song, aligning with the aftermath of Moses’ actions, where repentance and a return to true principles were paramount. Kendrick pushes for a cultural renaissance rooted in integrity, community, and authentic human connections, moving away from fleeting pleasures and false idols. Lamar’s vision extends beyond personal change to collective awakening. Much like Moses leading his people toward the Promised Land, Kendrick positions himself as a guide through societal disillusionment toward a more enlightened future. His message underscores the importance of leadership during times of moral crisis, inspiring movements toward redemption and renewal.

Kendrick Lamar’s journey through his albums reflects a deepening understanding that true transformation in the music industry necessitates collective action. Beginning with To Pimp a Butterfly, he attempted to shift cultural narratives through powerful socio-political commentary. Though critically acclaimed, the album did not instigate the industry-wide change he had envisioned. This unmet aspiration led him to grapple with personal disillusionment in DAMN., where darker tones mirror his frustration over his message not connecting as profoundly as he had hoped.

In his latest track he dropped, Kendrick realizes that despite the impact of his efforts, he cannot overhaul the industry alone. The song underscores the inherent resistance to change in the music world and emphasizes the need for a unified front. The call to “watch the party die” symbolizes not mere destruction but the dismantling of outdated structures to pave the way for rebuilding. We hope he envisions a movement where artists, producers, and fans collectively embrace and advance the change he advocates.

Kendrick recognizes that widespread participation is essential for restoring the industry’s values and practices. While he may lead the charge, the vision of a reformed industry requires adoption and advancement by many. Throughout his artistic evolution, he moves from individual critique to a broader appeal for systemic change. He understands that his music, while a powerful catalyst, is just one component of a giant puzzle that includes cultural shifts, industry reform, and audience development. His hope lies in community and collaboration, believing that collective effort can drive the transformation he seeks, which could take years.

Ultimately, Kendrick Lamar realizes that inspiring, leading, and initiating change is not enough. Comprehensive restoration of the music industry depends on a unified effort. “Untitled” embodies this belief, highlighting that while his influence can ignite the spark, he cannot dictate or guarantee the outcome alone. His vision extends beyond witnessing the end of the old to seeing a rebirth through shared endeavor and mutual commitment.