Dissect - S1E15 – The Blacker the Berry (Part 1) by Kendrick Lamar

Episode Date: December 13, 2016

We continue our serialized analysis of Kendrick Lamar's To Pimp a Butterfly by dissecting "The Blacker the Berry." Follow Dissect on social media @dissectpodcast. Purchase Dissect merch at dissectpodcast.com. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Welcome to Dissect, long-form musical analysis broken into short digestible episodes. I'm your host, Cole Kushnan. Today we continue our serialized examination of Topimp a Butterfly by Kendrick Lamar. We're currently in the midst of the album's fourth act, which we've titled The Butterfly Sheds Light. After an encounter with God in South Africa on how much a dollar cost, Kendrick embraced his leadership role. On our last episode, we explored complexion, a song in which Kendrick speaks to directly to his community on the complexities of colorism. Complexion concludes with Rhapsody's reference to Bloods and Crips,

followed by a cryptic soliloquy performed by Kendrick himself. Queens, we all on the same team, blues and pyruz, no colors ain't a thing. Bedfoot babies with no care. Teenage gun told us that don't play fair. Should I get out the car? I don't see Compton. I see something much worse. The land of the landmines. The hell that's on earth. Remember, the song's Mama How Much a Dollar Cost and Complexion showcased Kendrick's experiences and lessons learned in South Africa.

The soliloquy at the end of complexion represents his narrative return to the states. Having gained a broader perspective in Africa, he's seeing Compton and perhaps all the inner cities like Compton in a new light. He paints a grim portrait of barefoot babies and teenage gun-toters that navigate the land of the landmines the hell that's on earth. Kendrick's choice of using barefoot babies seems to be a calculated representation of innocence. Trapped in a hellish environment, these babies are set up to become gun-toters that don't play fair, or lack certain moral values by the time they're teenagers.

The conditions of Compton described as the hell on earth seems to be an environmental manifestation of Lucy, the devil incarnate. If you'll recall from the very first episode of Dissect, we spoke at length about the systemic racism that caused Comptor. into transition from a nearly all-white agricultural city to the territorial conflict-ridden inner city described on Good Kid Mad City. This brief soliloquy sets the stage for the album's next track, The Black or the Berry. At first glance, the Black or the Barry seems to be the antithesis of complexion. Its tone is raspy and seething, while complexion is vibrant and warm. But while their tone may differ drastically, both deal with the complexities of black identity

in contemporary society. And, as we'll see by the end of our analysis, their impact may be best measured when viewed as two sides of the same coin, a large form representation of the contrasting duality theme we spoke on several times throughout the season. There's a lot to unpack on this incredibly potent song, so much so that I chose to split this episode in two parts. Today we'll explore the Black or the Barry's narrative and divert into a few areas of historical significance alluded to in its lyrics.

And our next episode, we'll discuss the song's controversial reception, place the song within the album's narrative arc, as well as speculate on whether or not Kendrick actually killed someone. So, without further ado, let's all take a deep breath, and let's dissect. The Black of the Berry was produced by Cause and Boy Wanda, the latter most known for his work with Drake. It also features an outro produced by Teres Martin. The song's introduction finds Kendrick mumbling to himself. a series of conflicting ideas about his black identity. It foreshadows one of the song's central themes, a concept called double consciousness. Kendrick begins saying, everything black, I don't want black.

I want everything black. I ain't mean black. Some white, some black. I ain't mean black. I want everything black. Kendrick is expressing the contradiction he feels about his black identity. On one hand, he takes pride in his blackness, wants everything black. On the other, he feels insecurities or perhaps resentment towards it, doesn't need black.

This contrasting duality of black identity parallels the idea of double consciousness. The term was coined by black scholar W.E.B. Dubois in his 1903 book, The Souls of Black Folk. It describes the internal conflict experienced by oppressed groups living in an oppressive society. In other words, black people in white America. De Bois argued that attempting to reconcile your art. African heritage while being raised in a white European dominated society pose psychological challenges. Describing double consciousness, Dubois writes, It is a peculiar sensation, this double consciousness, the sense of always looking at oneself through the eyes of others,

of measuring one's soul by the tape of the world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels as two-ness, an American, a negro, two souls, two thoughts, two unreconciled strivings, two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dog's strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder. The history of the American Negro is a history of this strife, this longing to attain self-conscious manhood, to merge his double self into a better and truer self. In this merging, he wishes neither of the old selves to be lost. He does not wish to Africanize America, for America is too much to teach the world in Africa. He wouldn't bleach his Negro blood and a flood of white Americanism,

for he knows that Negro blood has a message for the world. He simply wishes to make it possible for a man to be both a Negro and an American, without being cursed and spit upon by his fellows, without having the doors of opportunity closed roughly in his face. Kendrick is able to express this somewhat complex idea of double consciousness, with extreme brevity and clarity, I want everything black, I ain't need black.

His performance of these lines, lines, which are akin to speaking under one's breath, could be interpreted as the internal thoughts and conflicting feelings of black identity he lives with every day. Interjected between these lines is a four-line poem of sorts, sung by Lela Hathaway. Let's listen again to the introduction focusing our attention on these sung lines. Hathaway sings, they want us to bow down to our knees and pray to a God that we don't believe. I believe the perspective here is from Black America speaking on the forced conformity into white European dominated society. It implies that white America is historically shown to desire minorities to conform to their cultural assumptions,

be it religion, economy, governmental, or otherwise. Of course, these assumptions were established and defined during the country's inception, at which point white supremacy was prevalent, and blacks had no say in defining anything. Hence the line, pray to a God that we don't believe. We're going to listen to the introduction one last time. On this listening, let's hear it from the perspective of not Kendrick nor Black America, but White America. Everything Black, want all things black. I don't need black, want everything black.

Don't need black. Our eyes ain't black. I own black. Own everything black. We can very easily interpret this introduction from the perspective of contemporary white America, who on one hand accept and celebrate certain acts. aspects of black America, yet reject and misunderstand others. The last lines, I own black, own everything black, certainly calls to mind the sports and entertainment industries that are

dominated by black participants, yet play on teams or assigned to labels owned by mostly wealthy white men. The introduction is followed by a brief bridge. The bridge depicts a riot scene, and given the times and subject matter, we're safe to assume Kendrick could be referencing any number of riots incited by the killings of unarmed black men like Trayvon Martin or Michael Brown. The bridge begins, 6 in the morning, fire in the street. It sets the scene, but also pays homage to West Coast rapper Ice Tea and his 1986 track 6 in the morning. 6 in the morning police at my door fresh to be this week across my bathroom floor. Out my back window, I make my escape. Didn't even get a chance to grab my old school take.

Mad with no music, but happy could freeze. The next line in the bridge, Burn Baby Burn, That's All I Want to See, again paints a vivid picture of a riot scene. It also pays homage to yet another West Coast icon, Magnificent Montague, the radio DJ who helped popularize soul music in Los Angeles in the 1960s. His catchphrase, Burn Baby Burn, inadvertently became the rally cry during the 1965 Watts riots in L.A. Montague was disheartened by his catchphrase being appropriated to insight destruction, and so began saying, Learn baby, learn, instead. The bridge continues, quote,

And sometimes I get off watching you die in vain. It's such a shame, they may call me crazy. They may say I suffer from schizophrenia or something, but homie you made me. It would seem that part of Kendrick is enjoying or getting off on the carnage he's witnessing. As we'll hear throughout the verses, Kendrick harbors deep-rooted resentment towards America. Kendrick's double consciousness and conflicting feelings caused some to label him crazy or schizophrenic, but he counters with, homie, you made me.

He then says, black don't crack, which is a phrase that typically refers to the absence of wrinkles and aging black skin. Here, it seems Kendrick is using it as a term of defiance, that in the face of being labeled schizophrenic, he refuses to change. Interestingly enough, Skitsyn, the root of Skitsyn, the root of Skitts, schizophrenic means to split or crack. After this brief bridge, verse one begins.

On the biggest sip of grid in 2015. Once I finished, it's witnesses. Will conveyses what I mean. Been filling this way since I was 16. Came to my senses. You never like this anyway. Fuck your friendship. I meant it.

I'm African American. I'm African. I'm black as the moon. Heritage of a small village. Part of my residence. Came from the bottom of mankind. My hair is nappy. My dick is big.

My nose is round and wide. You hate me, don't you? You hate my beard. In an interview with Rolling Stone, Kendrick revealed that the beginning sketches of the Black or the Barry's verses were written in 2013. He was on tour flipping through channels on his tour bus when he saw a news report about the killing of unarmed 16-year-old Trayvon Martin. Kendrick said, quote, it just put a whole new anger inside of me.

It made me remember how I felt. Being harassed, my partner's being killed. Kendrick is alluding to the altercations he and his friends had with police while a teenager in Compton. In the same interview, Kendrick recalls several occasions police had pointed guns at him, as well as when his good friend D.T. was shot and killed by police officers. He said, quote, to be someone with a good heart and to still be harassed as a kid, it took a toll on me. Soon you're just saying, fuck everything. Verse one of the Black or the Berry opens with the line,

I'm the biggest hypocrite of 2015. Once I finish this, witnesses will convey just what I mean. Each of the song's three verses will begin this way. Similar to the technique used in how much a dollar cost, the line sets up the dramatic twist revealed at the end of the song. Also, prefacing each verse with hypocrisy, casts a shadow over the remainder of the verse. It causes the listener to have their guard up.

Should we take the narrator seriously? Does he mean what he says? Kendrick continues the verse saying, Been feeling this way since I was 16, came to my senses. Kendrick seems to be aligning himself with 16-year-old Trayvon Martin. Perhaps knowing what happened to Martin could have easily happened to him growing up in Compton. Next comes a line, you never liked us anyway. Fuck your friendship, I meant it.

Kendrick is addressing America, perhaps more specifically white America. He's alluding to the historic struggle of race relations in this country. While the government can declare Black History Month and make Martin Luther King Day a national holiday, their attempts of friendship or making nice hasn't resolved the real issues plaguing Black America. Kendrick then says, I'm African American, but then quickly retracts that statement, saying, I'm African. I'm Black as the Moon, heritage of a small village part of my residence. Again, Dubois's double consciousness comes to mind here. Kendrick is attempting to reconcile his fractured identity of an African

living in a European-dominated society, where he feels he's viewed as primitive or un-evolved. This sentiment is further expressed with the next lines, came from the bottom of mankind, my hair is nappy, my dick is big, my nose is rounded wide. Kendrick elaborates on these motives as verse one continues. You hate me, don't you? You hate my people, your plan is to terminate my coach. You fucking evil. You vandalized my perception, but can't take style from it.

And this is more than confession. I mean, I might press the button just so you know my discretion. Kendrick continues his scowling assault on white America with lines like, You hate my people, your plan is to terminate my culture. You're fucking evil, I want you to recognize that I'm a proud monkey. You vandalize my perception but can't take style from me. Kendrick remains prideful in his blackness and calls out the hypocrisy of America for appropriating the creations and cultural innovations of black culture, while

continually degrading or slandering their perception. From slang to dabbing to dance moves, it seems white culture is where creations of black cultures go to die. One rather interesting line comes near the end of verse one. Kendrick says, I'm guarding my feelings, I know that you feel it. After what seems like an unfiltered attack thus far in verse one, we might wonder what feelings he could be guarding. Knowing what we know about Kendrick, we might guess pain and insecurity. Many of us lash out in anger as a defense mechanism when feeling hurt, as it's an easier, less vulnerable emotion to convey. Kendrick works towards the verses end with lines like,

You sabotage my community, making a killing, you made me a killer. Here we can again cite the war on drugs and the CIA's involvement in supplying Los Angeles with crack cocaine and weapons, which led to communal degradation and violence. The verse's closing line is emancipation of a real N-word. The word emancipation is of course embedded with connotations of freeing the slaves in the 1860s. Here, Kendrick argues that his true emancipation as a black man, a real N-word, comes from the inevitable expression of his inner frustration,

as well as exposing the true motivations of white America. In other words, the gloves are off, the mask unveiled. Verse 1 is followed by a pre-chorus with a cryptic refrain. With origins in the 1929 Wallace Thurman novel, of the same name, the black or the berry, the sweeter the juice is typically used as a phrase of black empowerment. As we heard in our last episode, Tupac uses the phrase in the opening lines of Keep You Head Up, an anthem penned in support of black women. Having just heard Kendrick's Prideville Black Sentiments in verse 1, we might assume the use of the phrase,

the black or the berry, falls in line with its empowering tradition. The twist comes in the pre-course's last iteration in which Kendrick says, the blacker the berry, the bigger I shoot. Here, we're forced to reinterpret the phrase. Now it means something like, the black or the berry, the bigger the target, alluding to the shooting of Trayvon Martin and others. We can also imagine the sweeter the juice becoming a vivid metaphor for the spilled blood of black men that died by the gun of police officers. Next comes the song's hook, performed by Jamaican artist Assassin. Assassin says, They Put Me in chains because we black. Imagine now big gold chains full of rocks. How you no see the whip left

scars upon my back, but now we have a big whip parked on the block. He draws parallels to the chains worn by slaves to the chains worn by black men today, as well as the whips blacks endured in slavery to the whips or cars they drive today. It seems to suggest that materialism is the new form of slavery, calling to mind our numerous discussions about the motives of Uncle Sam and the American dream this season. The hook closes with the lines, all them say we doom from the start because we black. Remember this, every race starts from a block. Just remember that. The clever wordplay of every race start from a block conjures up the beginning of a track meet. But of course, it means race as a human race, and block in this case is black. If you go back far enough,

we can all be traced back to Africa, as human civilization is thought to have began there. is reminding us that we're all in a sense black, and that to degrade a black person is to degrade oneself. After the song's hook, verse two begins. The freedom only live in your eyes. You hate me, don't you? I know you hate me just as much you. The verse starts again with the hypocrisy line, and again we're forced to wonder what Kendrick means by it.

He follows this line with, it's evident that I'm irrelevant to society. That's what you're telling me. Penitentiary would only hire me. Curse me till I'm dead. Church me with your fake prophesizing that I'm going to be just another slave in my head. Institutional lies, manipulation, and lies. Reciprocation of freedom only live in your eyes.

You hate me, don't you? Kendrick here is alluding to the US penitentiary system. We're going to take this opportunity to briefly explore that system. The United States has the largest incarceration system in the world, imprisoning about 2.4 million people. This accounts for 25% of all imprisoned people in the entire world, despite the US only having 5% of the world's population. While people of color make up 30% of the US population, they account for 60% of the US population.

They account for 60% of those in prison. The incarceration rate for black men is six times higher than white men, and one in three black men can expect to go to prison in their lifetime. The number of prisoners in the US has increased 400% since the Reagan era. Nearly 50% of federal prisoners and 18% of state prisoners are locked up for nonviolent drug offense crimes due in part to the war on drugs. Also during this time, the private prison industry was born. That is, privately owned prisons contracted by the government to house their inmates.

Private prisons have seen a dramatic increase in their prisoners. Since the year 2000, the number of federal inmates in private prisons has risen 125%. The private prison industry brought in $4.8 billion in 2014 alone. These companies who spend millions each year on Washington lobbyists hold contracts with the government include stipulations like minimum prisoners each year, some of which demand 90% occupancy at all times. Behind these prison companies are investors like Bank of America, Goldman Sachs, J.P. Morgan Chase, and others. The majority of politicians in Washington openly accept enormous sums of campaign

dollars from these same companies over their careers, Democrats and Republicans alike. The 13th Amendment to the Constitution abolished slavery and involuntary solitude in the United States, except as punishment for a crime. Prisoners who are paid for their work average $93 to $4 per day. Not per hour, $93 to $4 per day. In some states like Texas, prisoners are required to work and do not receive any pay. Prison systems, both private and public, are allowed to contract prison labor to private companies. Companies that have or continue to contract prison labor to increase their bottom line include AT&T, Exxon, McDonald's, Starbucks, Boeing, and many others.

There's a lot of money to be made from prison labor. With the ancestral money flow among politicians, big banks, privately owned prisons, and large corporations, one begins to connect the dots. We might begin to draw certain conclusions about the reasons behind our countries and gorge prison population, the majority of which are people of color. With that fresh in our mind, let's listen again to verse 2. The first half will address the discussion we just had about the U.S. penitentiary system. In the second half, Kendrick will speak on the envy and frustration some might feel about a successful black man like himself.

On the biggest hypocrite in 2015, once I finish this witness is what I mean. I mean it's evidence that I'm irrelevant to society. That's what you're telling me. Penitentiary would only hire me. Curse me till I'm dead. Church me with your fake prophesizing that I'm a be just another slave in my head. Lines, manipulation and lies, reciprocation of freedom only live in your eyes. You hate me, don't you? I know you hate me just as much as you hate yourself.

Jealous of my wisdom and cards I dose. Watching me as I pull up, fill up my tank, they pill out. Muscle cars like pull-ups. Show you what these big will sprout. I, black is successful. Is black man meant to be special? Cats skins on my radar, bitch out. Can I help?

Despite the odds, Kendrick is a successful black man in America, a hard pill to swallow for some. He shows off his wealth with muscle cars and cat. skin luxury seat covers. He then poses a question, how can I tell you I'm making a killing? It would seem that because the odds are stacked against him, his display of wealth is a defiant middle finger to those who work to oppress him. After a repetition of the pre-chorus and hook, verse three begins. I'm African, I'm black as the heart of a fucking erie. I'm black as the name of Tyrone and Darius.

Excuse my French, but fuck you. No, fuck y'all. That's as blunt as it gets. I know you hate me, don't you? You hate my people. I can tell because it's threats when I see you. I can tell because you're in love with that desert eagle. Thinking maliciously, he gets a chain and you're going to bleed them.

It's funny how I'm throwing. Kendrick continues his attack on American society and alludes to the historic oppression of black people with the line. This plot is bigger than me. this generational hatred. Later he says, I'm black as the heart of a fucking Aryan. If you'll remember from our last episode complexion,

pure Aryan was the highest tier of Nazi Germany's racial grading system. Kendrick calls their white hearts black as they soullessly carried out genocide on 6 million Jews during World War II. The song's narrative takes a turn with the second half of verse 3. Up until now, Kendrick's held a mirror in front of American society at large. He'll now turn that mirror. around on themselves. Kendrick trade from Martin who's in the street

When gang banking make me kill a nigga blacker than me, hippocry. Kendrick begins, it's funny how Zulu and Xosa might go to war, two tribal armies that want to build and destroy. Remind me of these Compton Crip gangs that live next door, beefing with Pairoos only death settled the score. Here, Kendrick is drawing a parallel between African tribes Zulu and Exosa. The two were most recently in conflict in the early 1990s before South Africa democratized in 1994.

Many feel their political and economic differences, which led to violence and killing, were fueled and exaggerated by white apartheid regime. Kendrick compares their situation to the longstanding feud between Compton Bloods and Crips. The creation of these gangs was in part due to the historic oppression of minorities in the United States under majority white rule. Kendrick continues the verse questioning his black allegiance with a list of black leaders, black cultural activities, and black stereotypes. He begins with citing two symbols of black pride, saying, no matter how much I like to say I preach with the Panthers,

or tell Georgia State Marcus Garvey got all the answers. The Black Panthers, influenced by the teachings of Malcolm X, where a black revolutionary group started in the 1960s, and known for their aggressive approach to civil rights and the future of the black population in America. Marcus Garvey made his name in the 1920s as a proponent of black, black nationalism and pan-Africanism, calling for the separation of races and encouraging the black community to return to Africa. There's a bit of clever wordplay hidden in these lines.

Kendrick references Georgia State, a university he performed at in 2013. The school's mascot is a panther, tying into the previous line about the Black Panthers, who themselves were influenced by the teachings of Marcus Garvey. The references to black culture continue as the verse winds to a close. Talking about Black History Month, Kendrick says, try to celebrate February like it's by B-Day. He then references watermelon, chicken, Kool-Aid, Michael Jordan, and BET as stereotypical symbols of black culture. While Kendrick's attempts at blackness seem genuine, they ultimately leave him unfulfilled. The answer to why is revealed in the verses closing lines. Let's listen one more time.

Blacker than me, hypocrite. What's become a somewhat infamous line, Kendrick asks, So Why Did I Weep when Trayvon Martin was in the street? When gang banging make me kill an N-word blacker than me, hypocrite. It's a line so explosive that his own song shuts down. The beat implodes, resolving into a somber, meditative instrumental. It's thinking music.

It allows us a chance to reflect on what we just experienced. I'm going to allow you a chance to do just that. and we'll pick up where we left off next time on Dissect. Dissect is written and produced by me. If you like what you hear, consider rating Dissect on iTunes or sharing Dissect on your favorite social media outlets. There's no team behind this podcast. It's just me, and your help promoting the show really helps.

You can find us at Dissect Podcast on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram. Also, remember to submit your suggestion for Season 2 of Dysect at Dicect at Dicectpodcast.com. While you're there, say hi on the new public forum I created. I'd really like fans of the pod to get to know each other. I think you'll find we all have a lot in common. Theme music by Birocratic. For more, visit bierocratic.bancamp.com.