Understated genius: ‘untitled unmastered.’

With little fanfare or fuss, Kendrick dropped untitled unmastered. last Friday, March 3rd. A collection of cuts, 34 minutes long in total, they were originally ditched for one reason or another in the making-of last year’s genre-defining To Pimp a Butterfly.

Compare the hyperbolic hullabaloo with which Kanye’s The Life of Pablo was released last month – among Twitter wars and album name U-turns – to the understated assurance of untitled’s modest release, and you can begin to understand why many no longer consider Kendrick merely a pretender to the rap throne. TPAB’s 15 tracks were almost 80 minutes long: the fact that any more material came of those sessions, equal in quality to the supposed cream of the crop, is a testament to his game-changing, awe-inspiring genius. He is at the moment, unquestionably, unparalleled.

Fleshing out TPAB’s kaleidoscopic dissection of racial politics, yet more wrath is exacted against the oppressive, corporate sh*thousery America seems subsumed by.

Fleshing out TPAB’s kaleidoscopic dissection of racial politics, yet more wrath is exacted against the oppressive, corporate sh*thousery America seems subsumed by (“Telling me that he selling me just for $10.99”). Hope comes, eventually, later on. You just have to wait. Much has been made of ‘untitled 01’ and its apocalyptic scene: “The ground is shaking, swallowing young woman/ With a baby, daisies, and other flowers burning in destruction./ The smell is disgusting…” It’s a bitterly bleak picture Lamar paints. As an orchestra tunes up, and strings, drums and brass muddle and jar, that discordance reflects the disharmony the rapper increasingly strives to achieve in his music, mixing traditional markings of hip-hop with free jazz and uncompromising narration. There’s no better example of this than standout track ‘untitled 07’. It’s all about greed and materialism and celebrity culture: “Drugs/ Fame/ Chains won’t get you high as this”. Composed of three movements, the first sees traps slam and bass boom over the catchy call of “levitate, levitate, levitate”, before giving way to two milder, more soulful affairs. It’s a triptych of terrible beauty.

The creeping, descending bass riffs on ‘untitled 01’ and ‘05’ are exquisite too. The latter’s particularly so, calling to mind Nas’ ‘NY State of Mind’. Kendrick may have some way to go to match Nas in terms of narrative stature, but with each release he’s growing taller and taller. untitled’s a darker, more pessimistic listen than its predecessor. Perhaps more melodic, it’s certainly more melancholic.