Five long years have passed since Kendrick Lamar released the Pulitzer prize-winning DAMN., his superb fourth addition to an already gilded discography, and ever since fans and critics alike have been anxiously waiting on the generational artist’s next release. So, with the announcement of a new double album, entitled Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers, a hysteria took over the musical world.
And the album?
Well, let’s break it down.
Overall, Mr Morale & The Big Steppers is a striking release. Lyrically the most personal of all of Lamar’s albums, it touches on a vast array of internal conflicts that have shaped the life of the rapper. An incredibly public admission of his infidelity and borderline sex addiction on tracks ‘United in Grief’ and ‘Worldwide Steppers’, to an attempt to disrupt the silence and stigma surrounding childhood sexual abuse as seen on ‘Mother I Sober’, the record is eye-opening. Emotionally raw and bravely ambitious, the album marks a first for Lamar, who does not usually give such personal, first-hand accounts of trauma and conflict, instead tending to opt for a more distant narrative style. The songwriting on the album is easily Lamar’s finest, with these darker, more personal lyrics contrasting some of the high-life arrogance that is dotted through the record, on songs like the lead single ‘N95’ and ‘Rich Spirit’.
The main faults with the album come, surprisingly, from the production of it. Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers clearly has a distinct sound, but when compared to the three most recent releases of Lamar’s discography, the album is nowhere near as tight and cohesive. Some of the transitions between songs are jarring, and the mix from large, grandiose, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy-esque beats to stripped-back, pulsing, electronic rhythms just doesn’t quite work in its intended fashion. This probably stems from the sheer size of the album, with over 70 minutes of material, some of which feels extraneous to the overall vision the record is trying to present.
There are three standout songs, though, that are truly some of Kendrick’s best work: ‘Father Time’, ‘We Cry Together’, and ‘Auntie Diaries’. All three benefit from consistent production and fixate on an individual personal topic to Lamar: toxic masculinity and manhood, dysfunctional relationships, and transgender rights, respectively.
‘Father Time’ is musically the pick of the bunch, with a beautiful feature from English pianist and singer Sampha contributing a melancholic middle eight. Lamar combines this with a deconstruction of the roots of some of his behaviours by analysing his relationship with his father.
‘We Cry Together’ has a more cinematic feel with a chaotic, discordant backing track being overlaid by an argument between Lamar and Taylour Paige that crescendos, spirals, and ends in the couple having berated and torn each other apart. Ultimately, though, the couple stay together; such is the relationship’s toxicity. It isn’t necessarily a pleasant song to listen to, but the way it so accurately portrays this relationship and plays into the album’s themes of therapy, deconstructing stigmas and to “Stop tap-dancing around the issue” (although the actual mentioning of this is uncharacteristically heavy handed from Lamar) make it a must-listen.
‘Auntie Diaries’, on the other hand, takes Lamar’s more preferred method of narrative storytelling. The track documents the transition of his then-auntie, now uncle, while Kendrick was a child, the later transition of his cousin and Lamar’s eventual vocal support of this, alongside his acceptance and acquisition of knowledge which can be seen throughout the song. The use of deadnaming and misgendering are used artistically to show this, with Lamar initially using the wrong names and pronouns at the beginning of the song and slowly acquiring the right ones as the song progresses. The more obvious way that this is show is by the outright use of the “f-bomb”, which weakens some of the nuance of the lyrics and, whilst highlighting the ignorance of Lamar’s childhood, will see this song be criticised despite the pro-trans message that it ultimately has.
The highlighted songs give a general taste of what Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers could have been. That tightness of production, combined with Lamar’s excellent lyricism and eye for lyrical detail, could have created something truly special, as has been the case with the rest of his discography. However, there is just too much inconsistency within the album to give it the accolade of residing on the same level as DAMN., To Pimp a Butterfly, or even good kid, m.A.A.d city. The amount of content the album delivers is enough to further analyse for years to come. Just too often it slips from the admittedly high, high standards that Kendrick Lamar is held to.
It is still a wonderful album that deserves at least a few relistens. It just may never hold the place in fan’s hearts that the other albums do.
Rating: 8/10
