Kendrick Lamar’s unforeseen Nov. 22 release of his sixth studio album came as a shock to the millions of K-Dot fans across the globe. After clashing with and swiftly defeating Drake in a series of singles wherein he referred to the Toronto native as a “freaky-ass n—” and an artist with stolen authenticity, one would think that he would sleep peacefully in his victory.
Think again.
Lamar’s string of victories strengthen his discography and cement his title as an artist both made for and made by his people. His sound and internet presence have represented both Compton, Calif. and a larger picture of the implications of Black American life, underscored by socioeconomic struggle and gang violence as a result of decades of social and systemic discrimination.
In June, his Pop Out performance in Los Angeles featured over 25 West Coast artists, many of whom were also LA locals, including Jay Worthy, Mustard, ScHoolboy Q and Tyler, the Creator. The performance peaked with the Kia Forum shaking as 17,000 fans screamed the lyrics to his diss track “Not Like Us,” further forcing Drake’s career into decline.
Upon first listen, it is clear that GNX represents a different motif than the rest of Lamar’s discography. Coming off of albums that included his appreciation for his Compton childhood in good kid, m.A.A.d city (GKMC), released in 2012, and the reflection and emotional blossoming in To Pimp a Butterfly (TPAB), released in 2015, this album bleeds with the smugness of a neverending victory lap. Studded with descriptions about his battered neighborhood and the friends that he’s lost while he’s marketed his traumatic circumstances to his benefit, Lamar sports on his title as an international superstar. As he puts it in “man at the garden,” he now “deserve[s] it all.”
The album is an orchestra of organized genre chaos, with Mariachi-inspired samples in “wacced out murals” and “reincarnated;” a 1990s West Coast rap-inspired beat on “dodger blue;” and of course, the SWV sample on “heart pt. 6.” Not only does Lamar gently mold his flow into these various genres, but his rhythmic smoothness is a biting contrast to the hostility of his lyrical content.
With rap hits like “squabble up” with its chorus telling everyone to “get the f— out [his] face,” it’s overwhelmingly evident that Lamar has had enough with people arguing with him, both in his hometown and on the internet. As internet personality Kevin Samuels would say, Lamar is the prize in the rap industry, conveyed in his opening song with the lyric “wacced the murals out, but it ain’t no legends if my legend ends.”
The album’s title, GNX, has a dual symbolic meaning to it, prefacing the album’s simultaneous representation of Lamar’s reigning greatness and the struggle that he had to experience prior to becoming a 17-time Grammy winner. The 1987 Buick GNX, or the “Grand National Experimental,” was a limited production car that has since been discontinued, leading to the price skyrocketing to over $200,000 as of 2021. The car’s primary symbolism comes from it being the exact model that Lamar’s father drove as they left the hospital with newborn Lamar in 1987.
But the vehicle’s symbolism stretches far beyond its importance as Lamar’s first ride. Like Lamar himself, the car is rare, highly valued and well-respected. Its discontinuation parallels Lamar’s extraordinary talent, while its early value parallels his admiration for his mentors and models that rose to fame years prior. Lamar’s reverence for Tupac on “Not Like Us” and overall appreciation for other LA natives, as seen in the June performance, is characterized in large part by this car.
Lamar’s ability to shake the internet with this release demonstrates a larger shift in the music industry towards the monopolization of individual artists versus production companies. After working with Top Dawg Entertainment for 18 years, Lamar split from the production company and began his own music and visual media production company, pgLang. The company has had massive success even prior to this album release, but GNX’s popularity despite its less plot-focused drive intensifies the album’s entire sentiment: Lamar stands isolated at the top of rap charts and has defended his title as one of the greatest rappers of all time.
That being said, because this album is an almost-45 minute victory lap, it would be unfair to say that it competes with the completeness of his previous works, especially GKMC and TPAB. Instead, his (well-earned) arrogance here materializes as a mish-mash of songs rather than one cohesive storyline. This amalgamation of singular tracks was amplified with the numerous features by SZA, giving this drop a similar feel to their 2018 collaboration album on the Black Panther soundtrack. Because having both artists was integral to the album’s sound, it was unattributable to either one individually. Thus, this album doesn’t sound like, or feel credible as, a solo Kendrick-driven album.
No matter how many times I’ve streamed GNX, it ceases to shake the feel of an EP, where multiple songs are coalesced to form one collective work for promotional purposes. In fact, the only thing that connects most of these songs is Lamar’s anger as other artists poke at his greatness (and lose, shoutout Drizzy). Thus, while the album was a lovely refresher course on Lamar’s talent, it fell short of a vivid lyrical masterpiece and emulated more of an extended Soundcloud diss track.
Editor's Note, Dec. 6, 2024 at 1:20 PM: An earlier version of this story incorrectly referred to the album "good kid, m.A.A.d city" as " "good kid, m.A.A.d." The mistake has been corrected, and North by Northwestern regrets the error.