Everyone loves an album that’s so reminiscent of his or her crazy nights. Through an undeniable flow and excellent storytelling skills, Kendrick Lamar paints a picture of Compton through the eyes of a young man in “Good Kid, M.A.A.D City.”

Lamar may be a mainstream newcomer from the West Coast, but he has already made a name for himself for many. At just 14, he released his first mixtape, “Youngest Head N**** in Charge,” which led to his working with West Coast legend Dr. Dre. Since then, Lamar has released five more mixtapes, worked with rappers Game and Talib Kweli and earned a huge following before releasing his first independent album, “Section.80,” in 2011.

That album served as a coming out party for Lamar, debuting to a larger audience his distinctive style of poetic hip-hop. Influenced by everything from the old school gangsta tracks that came straight out of Compton to legends like Marvin Gaye, he was able to provide a flow that was hard-hitting and raw, yet smooth and slick. His latest album’s tracks highlight his talent and have hits that are strong enough to stand alone, but are best enjoyed in the short film-like package Lamar presents. The rapper seamlessly illustrates night in the life in his hometown as if it were a scene from the movie “Friday.”

The story starts when a teenage Lamar takes his mom’s van out on a joy ride in a quest to find girls and nothing but trouble. In tracks like “Sherane a.k.a. Master Splinter’s Daughter” at the album’s start, and “B****, Don’t Kill My Vibe,” Lamar talks about his adolescent fervor for chasing tail and feeling good as he rides through the city. Both tracks are slow and laid-back with low, heavy beats that are perfectly suited for Lamar’s smooth rhymes.

For a dose of reality, Lamar includes voicemails from his mom, who just wants to get her van back to go pick up her food stamps and his Domino’s-starving, John Witherspoon-sounding dad. Lamar uncharacteristically drinks, smokes, ravages houses and evades the police “with the homies” in “The Art Of Peer Pressure.” It isn’t until he finishes the drink in his cup in “Swimming Pools (Drank)” that true reality sets in when one of his friends is killed in a shoot-out.

The skit is followed by “Sing About Me, I’m Dying Of Thirst,” a fairly somber track about the possibility of dying in the streets. Lamar sings the hook in a hauntingly monotonous voice, which complements his reflective, socially conscious flow that is abruptly ended by gunshots.

In “Real,” Lamar reflects on the many lives lost and time wasted thanks to the streets and declares he is “tired of running.” In the skit that follows the song, a wise, older woman sees the gun in one of the boys’ hands and tells that they are “dying of thirst” and need to be “baptized with the spirit of the Lord.” The boys repent of their sins in unison, as if learning from the night and finally giving up such a life for something of value.

I am not sure if Lamar’s mom ever got her van back, but we do know that Lamar made it off the streets and is still representing his city. In the album’s final track, “Compton,” Lamar says there “ain’t no city quite like mine” in an upbeat tone. Just like Jay-Z and Alicia Keys’ “Empire State of Mind,” the song has potential to be an anthem for a city, and once you throw Dr. Dre in the mix, it can be an instant classic.

Lamar’s “Good Kid, M.A.A.D City” not only tells a well-illustrated story of the harsh realities of life in Compton, but is a true account that will make you laugh, cry and crave Domino’s all at once. Through his relaxed flows and imagery-filled stories, Lamar doesn’t skip a beat.

Published on November 6, 2012 at 1:09 am

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