I have never listened to an album like Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers. Kendrick Lamar organizes songs like chapters in a scattered memoir, each playing a role in building a narrative and confusion. Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers moves so quickly that its dense themes become numb to the listener. The album feels invasive, pushing on our comfortability and making Kendrick’s intentions harder to grasp.
Since DAMN, the pandemic and murder of George Floyd have changed our world. Kendrick Lamar seemed uniquely capable of tackling these topics through his ability to rap from the perspective of others. His creative use of characters — and their competing motives — only adds depth to his albums.
On Mr. Morale, Kendrick makes himself the subject. “I hope you find some peace of mind in this lifetime,” someone sings to kick off the album. Simultaneously, the voice of Whitney Alford (Lamar’s fiance) lingers, “tell’em, tell’em the truth.” Lamar then shatters any possibility of peace by contrasting his private actions against his public perception.
This tension drives Mr. Morale. Unsurprisingly, Kendrick Lamar’s recollection of events and processing isn’t linear. It takes different stages, with Kendrick employing varying emotions to voice his perspective. His rage in “We Cry Together” makes the path to healing seem impossible, with our closest bonds being the primary drivers of our trauma and pain.
Kendrick Lamar doesn’t hide his flaws or whitewash how we move past them. For him, the process is painful and more cleansing than pleasing. He strips himself down, grasping the artist he is to the world is far from the man he is at home.
Kendrick has a knack for giving certain songs more meaning. At first, “I” seemed like Kendrick Lamar had pivoted his sound leading up to To Pimp a Butterfly. Yet, the song has even greater meaning and importance within the entire album. As the world crumbles around us, all we have is our ability to proclaim ourselves worthy of love.
“Mirrors” functions similarly. Kendrick unapologetically chooses himself, acknowledging his limitations as an artist and person. Addressing our pain and the impact of our actions on others is often messy, with progression coming sparingly. Mr. Morale features a realism that thrives in the uncomfortable and stagnant.
Despite his otherworld ability to assess our culture and its issues, Kendrick is sparse when it comes to offering a solution. He usually defaults to investing in people within our grasp. “I” and “Mirrors’ ‘ showcase Kendrick’s tendency to fall back on self-love when encountering hardships. He evaluates the complexities of our culture and how our contradictory actions only prolong our pain. On Mr. Morale, Kendrick’s last resort is to drop the facade, revealing scars inflicted and self-made.
Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers has little replay value. Musically, it's the densest and strangest album in Kendrick’s discography. It’s intended to make you reflect and look forward as the questions it poses go beyond music. The message takes precedence as Kendrick takes us behind the curtain showing us who he is and what he’s done outside of music. He wants the world to see him as those closest to him do, human, with complicated issues that need to be soothed and faced to make peace possible.