Kendrick performed some of the verses from the album’s “Untitled 05” as part of a medley at the Grammys a couple weeks ago, and a fervent tweet from Lebron James helped spark Lamar to release the entire eight-song collection to the public. In some ways, the reason untitled unmastered was released at all was so we could collectively do just that on our own time. I want to meditate on those like cud, ruminate, especially when we’re talking about a lyricist of this caliber. Plus, like I’m still listening to the music, I don’t want someone else’s words in my head yet. The surprise itself is already disrupting my schedule, infiltrating my life in different ways, altering how I will conceive of the year’s greater cultural trajectory. Have you? I don’t think it’s impossible, but generally, I feel too rushed to want to read anything the day after an album comes out. I’ve never read an album review written and published within a couple days of a record’s release that moved me, that really changed me.
How many times can I gather up the energy to be astonished by a new record falling from the sky? Sometimes, it feels like a way to manufacture undeserved excitement, or worse, the product of sloppiness (Kanye, I’m looking at you, though goddamn if The Life Of Pablo didn’t redeem itself for me). The surprise album stunt is really starting to feel overdone, like attempting to celebrate Christmas every week. My initial response to the album’s sudden iTunes drop was a groan, not again. Untitled unmastered came out last Thursday–as in, not even a week ago–and yet the album has already been parsed and praised, as it richly deserves.
It’s hard to remember the last time the stakes felt low for Kendrick Lamar.
He’s playing he’s making music with his friends and the stakes are low. This is my favorite part of the record, because God, does it ever feel good to hear him laughing, goofing off, straying into lewd territory not for the sake of political allegory, but just for fun. It follows up the song’s woozy, clacking first half, the obvious frontrunner in the recent batch of tracks he released late last Thursday night as untitled unmastered. That’s the only way to describe the laugh he dissolves into mid-verse on the back half of “Untitled 7,” a warbled acoustic jam that devolves into what amounts to a sex joke. Oh, you want me to touch you right there?/Oh, like a little lamb, play in your hair?
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