Kendrick Lamar’s name carries a lot of weight, and he knows this about himself more than anyone. As the hip-hop mogul who gave hope to a divided nation with anthems like “Alright” and “The Blacker the Berry,” Lamar faces the growing pressures of being a person who people depend on to uplift them and make an impact on their lives — but he is just a man. A man who deals with pain, grief, trauma and mental health battles just like anyone else. The time came to step away, focus on himself and reflect inward.

Now, after a five-year hiatus from his solo work, the Compton rapper is back to share with the world what he has learned about himself and to set the record straight: he is not your savior.
Lamar’s fifth proper studio album, “Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers,” his final project under his career-defining Top Dawg Entertainment label, serves as the pivot point into a new era of his career. The project was also released through pgLang, his new media company he founded with manager Dave Free and announced back in March 2020.

The double album, consisting of 18 tracks split into two nine-track sections, channels sounds and musical styles we haven’t seen much from him before, as well as heavy, deeply introspective subject matter that reflects his personal growth and journey since his mainstream absence.

The album kicks off with “United In Grief,” a perfect first taste into the album experience, as he reveals how materialism couldn’t alleviate his pain or fill the void inside him. The listener is greeted by a beautiful vocal refrain from singer Sam Dew, before quickly being interrupted by a section of staccato piano chords. 
The song then leads into another switch up into a soft, jazz-influenced piano passage, before quickly making another unexpected shift into a chunky, fast-tempoed, percussive drum break. Each musical component weaves back and forth between each other, building toward a cinematic string section toward the end. The constant progression of the album opener tests Lamar’s relentless flow changes with several unpredictable switch-ups.

Throughout the album, the listener is enveloped in a roller coaster of varying genres, sounds and playful production, including the radio-ready “N95,” fueled by infectious trap drums and a shiny synth melody that showcases Lamar’s hit-making capabilities and his bouncy, contagious flows. In the song, Lamar is challenging the listener to take away all the superficial objects and facades people use to cope and to ask what is left. The Kodak Black-assisted “Silent Hill” also provides an addictive, booming trap beat with an infectious and upbeat energy from both rappers. These brighter sides of the album deliver irresistible performances where you can’t help but bob your head along to the beat.
Lamar also taps into twinges of R&B and pop with catchy cuts like “Die Hard” and “Purple Hearts,” with smooth vocal performances across lush, heartfelt melodies, featuring the likes of Blxst, Amanda Reifer, Summer Walker and Ghostface Killah. Lamar wants to overcome his struggles and insecurities in order to build his relationships with lyrics such as “I got some regrets / But my past won’t keep me from my best.”

Themes of high responsibility and the pressure of people depending on him ring through in the heart-wrenching “Crown.” The track features an incredibly intimate piano instrumental where Lamar croons that “I can’t please everybody.” The demands of being one of the best rappers alive takes a lot out of him, because “Heavy is the head that chose to wear the crown.”
Lamar also reflects on past trauma with abuse on “Mother I Sober,” another heartbreaking yet beautiful piano-driven track where he opens up about his mother’s abuse and later the “generational curse” and recurring cycle of sexual abuse faced by Black children. “Father Time,” another crushing piano-based track with entrancing vocal features from Sampha, sees Lamar reflecting on similar issues of his past daddy issues and how ingrained toxic masculinity can be passed down through generations by the presence of — or lack thereof — a father figure.
Perhaps the biggest surprise of the album comes through on track eight of the first disc, “We Cry Together,” which many have compared to Eminem’s “Kim.” The track displays an intensely vivid and horribly toxic fight between Lamar and actress Taylour Paige, rapping from the perspective of a cutthroat relationship over a grimy boom-bap instrumental. Showcasing the poisonous behaviors of heteronormative relationships, the vicious argument between their characters is so fierce and powerful that you almost forget it all rhymes.

The album touches on many other internal issues, such as gender and his relatives’ transphobia on “Auntie Diaries,” or that he alone cannot be the solution to the world’s problems on “Savior.” The range of subject matter he exposes is just as expansive as the production styles that back it. The level of honesty and growth across the project is supplemented by the experimentation of sound Lamar utilizes.

Overall, the album provides a fresh palette of tracks that adds well to his wide-ranging discography thus far. This body of work is defined by musical and emotional moments, propelled by Lamar’s versatility of vocal tones and inflections that affect each song’s mood as well.

If we learn anything from “Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers,” it’s that Lamar is only human just like the rest of us, and we can learn a thing or two about accepting our past and growing from our mistakes.