Kendrick Lamar GKMC Reviews
Kendrick Lamar GKMC Reviews
In the first review from the NY times they were comparing Kendrick Lamar and Meek Mill and their new albums “good kid, m.A.A.d city” and “Dreams and Nightmares”. The two artist are very similar yet very different. Kendrick is from Compton and is one of the most daring rappers of the day. He is changing the rap game of his home town. Meek Mill is from Philly and he is been one of the most exciting young hip-hop artist the past couple of years signed with Maybach Music Group under Rick Ross. Kendrick is an anointed-by-acclamation savior and a reluctant hit maker while Meek Mill is an excitable star with a firm grasp on what makes people move. They both have stories that are told in their debut albums. The albums also demonstrate how two artist with the same valued fundamentals can choose very different ways to express them. Mr. Lamar’s is the bolder route. His is a totally unhurried album, easily the most ambitious in hip-hop this year. His songs unfold at the speed of life as it’s often lived slow, meandering, and often unremarkable. Every time some action threatens to accelerate the pace of Mr. Lamar’s album, in comes a voice-mail message from his mother killing the buzz. That’s part of this album’s narrative strategy, which includes, on top of Mr. Lamar’s tremendous verses, prayers and conversations and different voices and recollections and interludes, all in service of one overarching story: Mr. Lamar’s tale of ducking Compton’s rougher corners to find himself artistically. In the abstract, Meek Mill — a Rick Ross protégé, preserver of big-money triumphalism — is exactly the sort of artist Mr. Lamar is pushing back against. When he raps, Meek Mill sounds as if he’s calling home-run highlights on “Sports Center.” His flow is all jabs, nothing smooth about it. His songs sound about 50 percent louder than anything else on the radio. What Meek Mill wants to do is tell stories, unfashionable though that may be. On “Dreams and
In the first review from the NY times they were comparing Kendrick Lamar and Meek Mill and their new albums “good kid, m.A.A.d city” and “Dreams and Nightmares”. The two artist are very similar yet very different. Kendrick is from Compton and is one of the most daring rappers of the day. He is changing the rap game of his home town. Meek Mill is from Philly and he is been one of the most exciting young hip-hop artist the past couple of years signed with Maybach Music Group under Rick Ross. Kendrick is an anointed-by-acclamation savior and a reluctant hit maker while Meek Mill is an excitable star with a firm grasp on what makes people move. They both have stories that are told in their debut albums. The albums also demonstrate how two artist with the same valued fundamentals can choose very different ways to express them. Mr. Lamar’s is the bolder route. His is a totally unhurried album, easily the most ambitious in hip-hop this year. His songs unfold at the speed of life as it’s often lived slow, meandering, and often unremarkable. Every time some action threatens to accelerate the pace of Mr. Lamar’s album, in comes a voice-mail message from his mother killing the buzz. That’s part of this album’s narrative strategy, which includes, on top of Mr. Lamar’s tremendous verses, prayers and conversations and different voices and recollections and interludes, all in service of one overarching story: Mr. Lamar’s tale of ducking Compton’s rougher corners to find himself artistically. In the abstract, Meek Mill — a Rick Ross protégé, preserver of big-money triumphalism — is exactly the sort of artist Mr. Lamar is pushing back against. When he raps, Meek Mill sounds as if he’s calling home-run highlights on “Sports Center.” His flow is all jabs, nothing smooth about it. His songs sound about 50 percent louder than anything else on the radio. What Meek Mill wants to do is tell stories, unfashionable though that may be. On “Dreams and