good kid, M.A.A.D city – 10 Years On
A cassette tape plays and voices murmur, “Lord God, I come to you a sinner” from the moment you press play on Kendrick Lamar’s second studio album – good kid, m.A.A.d city. A narrative is established as we become privy to the semi-autobiographical tale that is to be told throughout the LP. Subtitled on the nostalgic polaroid that acts as the album artwork is ‘a short film by Kendrick Lamar’, sprawled in messy handwriting. Ten years on, this short film has not been developed into a visual medium, but it is not required. From top music critics to r/hiphopheads, good kid, m.A.A.d city has proved its upmost importance in rap, and music as a whole. Profound, vulnerable, brave are a few words to describe the record and that barely scratches the surface. On its 10th anniversary, we celebrate the excellence of good kid, m.A.A.d city, an album that propelled Kendrick to the throne and placed him in debates of the greatest of all time.
We are put directly in the shoes of a 17-year-old Compton native, with an insight to Kendrick’s mind state as he details his journey to visit Sherane, the love interest of the story. With ‘nothing but pussy stuck on [his] mental’, frivolous, immature thoughts are suddenly interrupted by one of many voicemails from his (real-life) parents. These voicemails both propel the narrative forward and act as the familial moral conscience that holds the conflicted youth from involving himself in the prominent violence that clouds Compton, California. ‘Bitch Don’t Kill My Vibe’ is the first hit song that we are approached with. A classic track produced by frequent collaborator Sounwave, with insane replay value to this day.
We return to the story with Kendrick freestyling for his childhood friends, all disillusioned with the aspired gangster mindset that is instilled into them from living in the violently charged, erratic nature of Compton. Themes of sex, drugs, violence are prominent in ‘Backseat Freestyle’, with the most memorable lyric being the juvenile “I pray my dick get big as the Eiffel Tower so I can fuck the world for seventy-two hours”. The nostalgic West Coast beat is as addictive as the lifestyle that Kendrick sees himself getting sucked into.
Hazy and infectious, ‘Money Trees’ experiences one of many highlights from the album – Jay Rock’s legendary verse cannot be praised enough. The features that are sprinkled throughout the album are excellently executed – Drake’s verse on the radio hit ‘Poetic Justice’ is delivered with precision over the looped sample of Janet Jackson’s ‘Any Time, Any Place’. Another seamless feature, the subtle hints of Pharell’s overarching wisdom that are embedded into ‘Good Kid’ are as flawless as his production on the track.
The genius of ‘Good Kid’ is not to be ignored. The only song on the album without expletives, Kendrick is poised, intelligent as he juxtaposes imagery of ‘red and blue’ with him ‘walking home from bible study’. The greatest juxtaposition, however, is the following track m.A.A.d city. Voice frantic and modulated, the production is filled with invasive snares, bleeps, and gangsta-rap synths. The foreboding G-funk is an ode to Ice Cube’s Bird in the Hand, as MC Eiht acts as the prophet to Kendrick’s hysteria.
Climaxing to the death of Kendrick’s friend in the closing of Swimming Pools, the albums rolls into Sing About Me, I’m Dying Of Thirst; 12-minute masterpiece. Not one for casual listening, the track is subdued, reflective and poignant – rid of the panicky anxiety that precedes this moment. Speaking from the perspective of three individuals living amidst the vehemence that looms over Compton, a maturity is established as Kendrick’s flow is clear and every word is pronounced: he wants us to listen to these stories. Prostitution, gang-violence, and conflict are detailed in vulnerability and evokes emotion to those who have no affinity to the lifestyle.
An ode to the city that Kendrick grew up in, ‘Compton’ is victorious: it only seems fitting that Lamar’s mentor Dr Dre assists in closing the album. There is an air of achievement here for Kendrick, being welcomed into the West Coast hall of fame by none other than the NWA member. GKMC is a concoction of the good, the bad, and the ugly that arises out of the city, peaking here as the chorus hails “Compton, ain’t no city quite like mine’ over the Jus Blaze beat.
As the G-funk synths fade out, we reflect on the story that has unfolded before us. Though the subject matter of GKMC can seem heavy and hard to digest to the average listener, this is far from the case. No matter your background or your appreciation for rap music, these tracks have stood the test of time, evoking empathy whilst providing tracks that will live on our playlists for years to come. It’s untainted, honest, raw and a true work of art that has set up Kendrick for a career of brilliance.