Ever since the (r)evolutionary step from vinyl to tapedecks, we entered a wonderful world of singles, the ability to easily skip from song to song. Media executives took the form of pop star phoenixes riding the glorious flame to the top of Billboard, then rising from the ashes in the form of a new star. Lamar's album boldly returns to an art piece; it forces the listener to hear it cover to cover with it's story, his poetry, and even a plot progression. Production aside, the fast paced jazzy periods remeniscent of Miles Davis, mixed with an almost Chromeo funkadelic instrumental, Lamar's concept of poem pointing out the senselessness of gang violence as a motif to tie his album together deserves recognition.
Posted in To Pimp a Butterfly