Do You Not Get the Concept? // With great power, there’s a great responsibility

Right before Thanksgiving break, Kendrick Lamar dropped his most recent album “GNX” with minimal to no roll-out following the consecutive diss tracks against Drake, and I spent the entire five hours of my drive back home listening to the album on loop. 

Though there was a decent amount of time between the diss tracks and “GNX”, I was worried the album would be like the quickly produced tracks he had put out beginning this past spring. Don’t get me wrong — I am a huge fan of Kendrick Lamar. His lyricism is one of the best in the rap industry, and his influence is almost unparalleled. His album “DAMN” won him a Pulitzer Prize in 2018, making him the only rapper to ever win the coveted award. 

There were a lot of things about the album that surprised me — features like SZA were amazing, alongside features of Wallie the Sensei, Roddy Ricch and other Compton, California, native rappers. Kendrick demonstrates his dedication to uplifting the black community through music and his choice to have many Black rappers from his hometown. Even more surprising, Kendrick Lamar worked with producer Jack Antonoff, most notably known for his work with Taylor Swift and Sabrina Carpenter. 

The album starts with its first track “Wacced Out Murals”, beginning with a Spanish poem, one of three tracks on the album to start in the Latin language. The first lines of the track translate to, “I feel your presence here/The night of last night/And we begin to cry.” “GNX” largely explores Kendrick’s relationship with rap, and the introduction to “Wacced Out Murals” depicts it. The female voice speaking is his “pen,” crying alongside him. In the track, Kendrick raps about the “love and hate” he’s received as a rapper, crying “f— everybody.” 

The anger in the track is pointed towards the negativity his work has received and the people who discredit him despite his attempts to uplift the community, specifically the Black community within LA, where he was born and raised. He criticizes the rap community, saying “don’t let no white comedian talk about no Black woman.” His critique calls out Black rappers whose flashy personalities and derogatory lyrics towards Black women propagate the comfortability of white artists to speak on Black culture and women. And it’s not just flashy and “subservient” rappers — Kendrick also criticizes the black rappers who romanticize gang culture and Black struggles, allowing themselves to be entertainment at the detriment of the Black community. Unlike others, Kendrick “never lost who [he is] for a rap image,” not sacrificing the integrity of his music and dedication to his community and roots in order to gain more popularity and fame.

Track six, the second track to begin with a Spanish introduction, is titled “Reincarnated,” translating to “what reflects your gaze/The night, you and I.” The song follows Kendrick Lamar through his multiple reincarnations on Earth, a musician in each life, as he learns to use his influence for good. His first reincarnation is in Michigan, 1947 as a musician. His father kicks him out of the house for his rebellious nature, and Kendrick chooses to pursue fame, becoming a gifted guitarist and incredibly wealthy. However, he was greedy, “manipulated power as [he] lied to the masses,” and he is reincarnated. His second reincarnation is of a small-town female vocalist who, despite the accumulation of fame, fell victim to drug addiction, his “daddy looked away, he saw sin in” Kendrick’s reincarnation, and Kendrick reincarnates again. 

His current reincarnation, his current self as Kendrick Lamar, sees that he can’t continue to manipulate and abuse his power as a musician. The father that he speaks of in his first two reincarnations is God, who banishes Kendrick from heaven so that Kendrick might learn how to use his gifts to uplift others instead of manipulating them. 

Kendrick speaks on his fear of his Judgment Day and whether his current life lives up to God’s standards. He has a conversation with “God” through the last verse, speaking about his donations to charities, his dedication to uplifting the Black community, his spotlighting of underground Black artists, promising to bring “understanding/for every man, woman and child.” The song ends with “carnated”, showing Kendrick has finally discovered his true purpose as a musician and this is his final carnation because his father will let him back home, back to heaven. 

The final track on the album, “Gloria” featuring SZA, is the third and last song to begin with a continuation of the Spanish poem. The translation for the introduction is “sitting, Anita and you,” in reference to Anita Baker, who he mentions in the first track of the album, listening to Anita Baker while he sits in his GNX. He’s at peace — or he’s reflecting, as “Gloria” is a reflection upon his relationship with him and Gloria, whom he met at a young age. 

Gloria uplifted him, helped Kendrick deal with grief and took all of Kendrick’s time and attention. Kendrick ultimately reveals Gloria is his pen, his relationship with rap. The track explores how rap can lead people in many directions, and how it requires undivided attention and love. “Gloria,” the closing track, encompasses Kendrick’s gratitude for the opportunities rap has presented him and his unwavering love for the art and his work.

Kendrick speaks on the importance of using one’s fame and influence to uplift their communities. His humility, and his constant appraisal of rap legends like Ice Cube despite the constant dismissal of his own groundbreaking work, demonstrate what influential musicians should be — unlike Drake, who has been Kendrick’s biggest target over the past year, whose influence has not been used to uplift the Black community. 

Kendrick constantly thanks his roots and remembers his hometown, shown through his donations to black charities and charities in Compton and constant mentions in his songs. The album’s back-to-basic beats, reminiscent of old-school rap styles like Nas and Tupac, show the album’s true heart — to bring back to the original meaning of rap, meant to uplift the Black community and shed light on Black struggles instead of glorifying violence and being used as a tool for fame and wealth.