Dissect - S1E3 – Wesley’s Theory by Kendrick Lamar

Episode Date: August 30, 2016

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

Welcome to Dysect, long-form musical analysis broken into short, digestible episodes. I'm your host, Cole Kushna. In episodes 1 and 2, we explored three things. The history of Compton, Kendrick's upbringing and evolution as artist, and Good Kid Mad City, his major label debut. These are the foundational elements that to Pimp a Butterfly are built upon, and will be used as reference points throughout our examination of the album. As you'll remember, Good Kid Mad City told a coming of age, story. We witnessed KDOT, a young boy whose actions were influenced by the chaos of Compton,

transform into Kendrick Lamar, a man who found redemption through music and lives by principles of love, family, and God. To Pippa Butterfly picks up where good kid left off. Kendrick, now a global icon, is transported into an unfamiliar world of fame, wealth, influence, and temptation. Remember, for the first 25 years of his life, Compton was the only world Kendrick knew. When he made it out, he was ill-equipped to navigate his new world. He was met with more temptation of sin, not less. He also experienced deep remorse about the people he left behind. It was confused and insecure about his place in the world outside of Compton.

I always figured I was, you know, a real strong, strong-minded person. You do what I'm saying? I fell and bumped my head a few times, you know, being influenced by people around me. But I always felt like, you know, I was always a leader. but it's a different type of temptation when the spotlight is on you. You know what I'm saying? And that right there, that really defines how much willpower and how strong-minded you really are. What's my weak errors?

What's my strong points? Where's my most vulnerable points? My points where I say, fuck you, fuck everything. All that comes out, you know, when that light is on, it's flashed on you, you know. Then when the light is off and you're in that room by yourself alone, all these thoughts going in your head, you know what I'm saying? So it's a balance of everything right now. Now, I'm freshly knowing it, you know, to be 100% honest with you,

I'm still going through the motions, you know, and try to balance everything out, you know. Everybody can tell you, man, once your album comes out, it's going to change everything. You hear that. You always say that. But when it do come out and it do what you always wanted to do, it does change. And it changed so fast, so fast.

Clarity for Kendrick came by way of a pivotal trip to South Africa in 2014. Here, Kendrick toured the city's historical sites, including Nelson Mandela's jail sale at Robin Island. According to the producer Soundwave, the trip inspired Kendrick to scrap two or three albums worth of material and begin anew on what would become to Pimp a Bucon. It was also during this time that the U.S. saw the rise of the Black Lives Matter movement in 2013 and 14, prompted by the killings of multiple unarmed black men by white police officers, who were later acquitted without punishment. Protests and riots broke out across the country and ignited debates about racial profiling, police brutality, and racial inequality in the U.S. justice system.

On Tipa Butterfly, Kendrick is able to draw parallels between his own personal journey and the topical issues that arose from the Black Lives Matter movement. Like he would say in multiple interviews, he's not speaking for the community or of the community, he is the community. Growing up in Compton, he could have easily been a Trayvon Martin or a Michael Brown. He knows their experience all too well. Like the evolution of KDOT to Kendrick Lamar and Good Kid Mad City,

Kendrick structures his album around a narrative of transformation, from Caterpillar to Butterfly, from prostitute to Pimp. What sets to Pimp a Butterfly apart and what makes it for me a stronger album is the intricate thematic layering, the stories within the story. Good Kid was deeply personal and told a very specific, very true story. If it were made a movie, Good Kid would be shot with handheld cameras and be played on 1980s VHS. To Pimp a Butterfly would be more akin to a Stanley Kubrick film. The sets would be expansive and intricately designed, each shot carefully composed,

and the script would be complexly layered with a multitude of themes and subtexts. Lamar is able to tell his story within the framework of a number of contextual and thematic elements, the history of African Americans in their place in today's society, the exploitative nature of capitalism, the residual effects of our nation's dark history, and the destructive relationships we have with our icons, to name a few. And while sonically, Good Kid was for the most part a very contemporary hip-hop sound, Tipa Butterfly draws on the eclectic 70s and 80s music Kendrick's parents played in his youth.

Influences of the Isley Brothers, Sly Stone, Donald Bird, Parliament, Miles Davis, James Brown, Prince, and others, accumulates on Topipa Butterfly into a kind of sonic portrait of the recent history of black music in America. To create this sound, Kendrick assembled a group of versatile jazz musicians, whose collective voice works to unify the album's many influences. producer saxophonist Terrace Martin, pianist Robert Glasper, bass virtuoso Thundercat, saxophonist Camasi Washington, singers Anna Wise and Balaal all make significant contributions to the album. We would also rely heavily on two longtime collaborators, producer's Soundwave and Taybeast. An attempt to better wrap our heads around the enormous amount of thematic content contained in Tippa Butterfly,

we're going to structure our analysis and acts. Each act will contain a linear group of thematically related songs that will examine individually first, then together as a set. At that point, we'll determine how each act as a whole advances the narrative. We'll also observe how they relate to the grand tell-all story recited at the conclusion of the album. And while I can easily continue to preface to Pimp a Butterfly for hours, I'm going to stop myself here, as I'm sure you're antsy to start exploring the album. I know I am. So without further ado, let's dissect.

Act 1 Pimped by Consumption Act 1 of Topimp a Butterfly is comprised of the album's first three songs, Wesley's Theory, Four Free, and King Kuntah. On today's episode, we explore Wesley's theory, the album's opening track. The first sound we hear on To Pimp a Butterfly is the crackling white noise of a record needle. It's a nod to the analog past so influential to the album's sound,

but also sets a tone of storytelling. This isn't just a collection of songs that can easily be seen, skip by the push of a button or remote control. It's a narrative, a connected story that should be listened to in succession, the whole greater than the sum of its parts. From the white noise rises a sampled refrain from Jamaican musician Boris Gardner. The sample gently ascends from silence and gives the opening the feeling of introductory credits of a film, with the listener settling in and preparing for a cinematic experience. Thematically, the refrain foreshadows the album's conclusion, that inside each human being, specifically African Americans, there is a star,

a potential for greatness. Gardner was a Jamaican artist in the 1970s who was attempting to reclaim the N-word from its distressed past, something Kendrick will later do on the album's penultimate song, I. Let's listen to an excerpt of the original Gardner tune from 1973. I have walked the streets alone. 20 years I've been on my own to be hated and despise No one to sympathize But there's one great thing I know You can say I told you so We've got a bright place in the sun

Where there's love for everyone And every nigger is a style In the album's conclusion Tupac will tell Kendrick We ain't really rapping We're just letting our dead homies tell stories for us It's fitting then that the album would start with the reference of the past, of another black artist attempting to change the culture through music, self-confidence, and positivity. Like Kendrick is continuing the conversation decades later.

On the flip side, the juxtaposition between the poison potency of the N-word with the word star is reminiscent of the contrast between the words pimp and butterfly. When heard more cynically, the excerpt could be interpreted as having exploitative connotations. Later in the song, we'll meet the character Uncle Sam, who views stars as objects of profit. You can just imagine Uncle Sam humming gardener's tune while sadistically smiling through his teeth. Of course, the sample is from 1973, which also ingeniously nods at the album's own funkadelic influences. Like most things Kendrick touches, this sample works on multiple thematic levels. It also introduces a key thematic element, contrasting duality, Like Caterpillar and Butterfly, like the N-word and Star,

Kendrick will continue to explore the complex duality of being over and over again throughout the entire album. The Gardner sample is interrupted by an exclamatory James Brown-like Hit Me, which gives way to a brooding, bubbling minor-key funk groove produced by Flying Lotus. An ominous voice from above bellows a haunting allegory. Geniously, this introduction encapsulates the entire story of the album. The four corners of the cocoon represent Compton, And with Kendrick's escape through music, he slipped through the cracks of that chaos. Now he attempts to survive outside the only world he knew.

It will lead him to take a, quote, deep look inside. He'll ultimately question himself, the nature of success, influence, and his audience. The song's hook follows, with Kendrick singing about his dreams of rap stardom metaphorically as his first girlfriend, his first love. He once genuinely loved music, but that love has now turned to lust, a desire to exploit or pimp his talents for fame and fortune. He then acknowledges burned. His relationships with friends and family destroyed by his success, something that will later haunt him

to the point of depression. While music may be specific to Kendrick's personal dream, he doesn't directly reference it. In this way, the hook and its message are ambiguous enough to take a more universal shape. Kendrick is essentially talking about the American dream. How

many of us dreamt of stardom when we were younger? It was our youthful dreams, motivated more by the craft that would bring his fame or by fame itself. Like the song's hook, the first verse continues in the mindset of a young black artist. He now fantasizes about what he do when he gets a record deal, when he quote unquote makes it. According to Kendrick in an interview with MTV, these are real thoughts he had when he signed his first deal. These, this is one of my favorite records off the joint. First off, the lyrics is me going back to that feeling.

of what I wanted to do when I got signed. These are actually real thoughts. Right. You go back to that same mentality when you get some money. He'll me. He dreams of recklessly spending a fortune on cars, jewelry, and guns. He wants to emulate the image of success he's seen on TV and in music videos. When I get signed, homie, I'm a man, a fool.

Hit the death flow strobe like Cinderone. That's your little secretary bitch for the homies. Little-eyed devil with a fat ass monkey. I'm a brand new cutie on balls. Kendrick's fantasies of reckless spending on red, right, Mary to the game and a bad bitch shows When I get signed on me

Kendrick's fantasies of reckless spending works to the benefit of and is encouraged by capitalistic America. We can see that the young black artist is already being pimped by his own fantasies. His image of success actually works to the advantage of the oppressive establishment that's held him back his entire life.

Monetary success, quote unquote, is thus an illusion. I ploy to keep the talented tame by their own ego-driven desires, feeding themselves right back into an unjust system, instead of developing into a real position of influence. Midway through the verse, political undertones emerge as Kendrick states he's going to pass out CIA supplied guns to his neighborhood. When I get signed on me, I'm about strap, straight from the CIA, sat it on my lap, take a few M-16s to the hood, pass them all out on a black one's good.

I'm going to put the cuff this by the White House. Republican running up, get socked out. Hit the press with a Cuban link on my neck on. While on the surface, the act of arming his hood is perhaps another short-sided fantasy. It alludes to the 1980s crack epidemic that was aided by the U.S. government funneling guns and drugs into LA neighborhoods. Next comes a reference to the album's cover art as Kendrick talks of bringing the Compton Swapmeat to the White House, knocking out Republicans and acting a fool.

The juxtaposition of the imagery is striking. A hog-tied white judge and a suit beneath a group of jovial, rowdy, shirtless black posing for the camera in front of the White House. It's a fairy tale image of rebellion, but after its initial impression fades, we realize the statement it makes goes deeper. For context sake, we're going to save our thorough examination of the cover art

for our conclusion episode, but suffice to say that it represents each of the album's theme areas simultaneously. The verse concludes with a rather potent line, uneducated, but I got a million dollar check like that. The phrase comes across as boisterous, a young man from the streets of Compton defying the odds and becoming rich seemingly overnight.

But as we'll see in verse two, the uneducated part will be exploited and will ultimately come back to haunt him. The daydream of verse one gives way to the bridge, a refrain performed by Thundercap. Quoting the now famous Rick James skit from the Chappelle show, the message behind the refrain is rich with meaning. The words are a metaphor for the actions

of the predominantly white U.S. government and post-slavery America. African Americans for years have fought an uphill battle to equally integrate into society after living as slaves for nearly 250 years. The bridge implies that giving African Americans opportunity, however unequal, to succeed in America was considered a mistake by those in power. It'd be easier if they all just went back to Africa, as the line Go Back Home certainly suggests. The bridge infers that the black community is viewed as burdensome, a nuisance not a priority. The bridge takes on another layer of complexity when you examined its source,

the Dave Chappelle Show, an extremely popular sketch comedy show in the early 2000s. In case you're unfamiliar with the Rick James skit, here is the line Kendrick quotes from the show. The immensely popular comedian Dave Chappelle famously walked away from $50 million when he left his television show at the height of its fame. In his 2006 interview with Oprah, Chappelle said of his leaving, quote, you can't imagine what celebrities go through. I love famous, but it's the way people around you position themselves to get in your pockets and in your mind. It's infuriating. He'd also say, quote, I felt in a lot of instances I was deliberately being put through stress because when you're a guy who generates money, people have invested

interest in controlling you. The stress would cause them to suddenly leave the country without telling anyone. His destination, South Africa, the same place Kendrick will later visit on the album in search of clarity. Wesley's theory continues with a repeat of the a hook, followed by a breakdown in which Dr. Dre makes a cameo in the form of a voicemail on Kendrick's phone. A forefather of Compton and the epitome of sustained musical success, Dre warns young Kendrick of falling victim to the pitfalls of fame and fortune. The phrase, anyone can get it, refers to the butterfly in us all, that we're all capable

of success. Keeping it, on the other hand, or not getting pimped, is much more difficult. Without giving young Kendrick time to think about Dre's proficient, we're not. prophetic warning, we are interrupted by Uncle Sam, the album's antagonist, and a metaphor for American capitalism. He begins tantalizing Kendrick like a used car salesman with a whole slew of material goods. What you want, you a house, you a car, 40 acres and a mule, a piano and guitar, anything, say my name is Uncle Sam on your dog. Motherfucker, you can live at the mall.

I know you're a guy. That's right. Don't have receipts. Pay me later. Where are those gaiters? Clicay and say fuck your haters. I can see the dollar in you. Little white lines, but there's no white color in you. But it's whatever though, because I'm still following you. Because you make you never have a baby, count it all together, baby. They hit the register and make me feel better, baby. Your horoscope, you're the Gemini, two sides, so you better cop everything two times.

Two coupes, two chains, two sea notes. Too much and enough both we know. Christmas, tell them what's on your wish list. Get it all, you deserve it, get trick. And when you hit the White House, do you, but remember, you ain't past economics in school. And everything in my minds exist. Texas would deny how Wesley snipe your ass before 35

Yeah, looking down is quite a try The verse's opening reference to 40 acres in a mule will be referenced several times throughout the album So we're going to take a few minutes to explore its origins After the abolition of slavery in December of 1865 Union General William T. Sherman issued a radical order named a special field order number 15 It ordered that 400,000 acres be seized from Confederate landowners and redistributed to former black slaves.

The land would be divided into 40 acres per family. Later, Sherman would announce that army mules could be lent to new settlers, hence the phrase 40 acres in a mule. By June of 1866, 40,000 black families inhabited the land. Less than a year after the order, President Lincoln was assassinated. Shortly after, President Andrew Johnson ordered that the vast majority of the land be returned to its former owners. This included the land settled by former.

slaves and their families. The federal government dispossessed tens of thousands of black landholders. In the end, only some 2,000 blacks retained land that they had won and worked after the war. Of course, this left thousands feeling betrayed. It was also a missed opportunity for economic reform that may have allowed southern blacks to consolidate and hold political gains made during the early years of reconstruction. In the context of Wesley's theory, 40 acres in a mule becomes a metaphor for a history of disproportionate opportunity and betrayal in America. Coniving Uncle Sam lures young Kendrick to mindlessly dump his success into reckless materialism, overspending on gaiters, coups, chains, 40 acres worth of senseless goods.

His spending spree encouragement is interjected with foreboding phrases like, I can see the dollar in you. Don't have receipts? Oh, that's fine. Pay me later. And you make me live forever. It all leads to a kind of grand reveal in the verses closing lines. Let's have a listen. The conclusion begins with the White House, do you, but remember you ain't past economics and school, and everything in my Texas would deny how Wesley snipe your ass before 35. The conclusion begins with the reference to the White House, the ultimate symbol of power in America, reminding Kendrick that he may have money, but he's still ignorant, still in no position to author any real change to the system working against him. Here we can circle back to the conclusion of verse one, in which young Kendrick brags about

being uneducated yet rich. He's been duped into an illusion of success and freedom, all the while Uncle Sam has been playing the puppet master. It's better it would seem to be educated and rich, like so many of those in power whose success was in part due to a system set up for and by them. The two closing lines make reference to Wesley Snipes, the successful black entertainer, and the infamous tax evasion and conspiracy charges of 2010 that landed him three years in prison. Kendrick flips Snipes' last name to the verb snipe,

an implication of personal assassination before the age of 35, the legal age one can become president. Again, Kendrick is using the White House and its presidency as symbols of power. For all the fame and fortune one might receive as an entertainer, musician, or athlete, it can all be taken back through taxes, unfair royalty checks, publishing rights, shady contracts, an entire gamut of bureaucratic agencies and an uneducated person, however talented, could not fully understand. In the end, they are being pimped by Uncle Sam. From Dave Chappelle to Wesley Snipes, it's all too easy to fall from Grace. As Dre said, anyone can get it. The hard part is keeping it. Forty acres in a mule indeed. It talks about something that we weren't

taught in school when we get this money. I'd have spent all my time in school and escaping prison and escaping the system so you mean to tell me the moment I become successful and I get some money and I don't know how to manage my money that you're gonna throw me back in jail for taxes well you had the line educated but I got a million dollar check exactly um so nobody's prepared you for and this is how it relates to Wesley Snipes they might Wesley Snipes your ass nobody prepared us for this nobody is so important. They teach us everything else in these curricular activities redundantly.

Verse two is followed by the Prime Minister of Funk, George Clinton, who, like Dr. Dre, warned young Kendrick of the pitfalls of fame. Wesley snipe your ass before 35. Looking down is quite a true. The opening line is a play on the state of you. The opening line is a play on the cliche, the higher you climb, the harder you fall. In this case, young Kendrick is ascending to stardom, which looks good when you're on top, but look down and you realize the deadly consequences if you fall.

Next, Clinton sings the cryptic lines, you got a medal for us, leaving miracles metaphysically in a state of euphoria. The medal represents Kendrick making it out of Compton, a miracle child that rose from a dark place against the odds. The phrase, look both ways before you cross my mind, is a problem. play on another cliche. Look both ways before you cross the street. A warning that foreshadows Kendrick's future mind state, one that endlessly races with doubt and depression. As it turns out, his mind is often a dangerous place to be. Conclusions. When examining Wesley's theory as a

whole, we can see that it was crafted cinematically, as if it were the first 10 minutes of a film. First, we hear an allegory that foreshadows the album's entire narrative arc. Then, through the hook and verse one, we're introduced to the album's protagonist, Kendrick himself, a young, naive rapper lusting for fame, the American Dream. In verse 2, Kendrick meets the story's villain Uncle Sam, the American Dream Incarnate, who attempts to lure Kendrick down a dark alley of materialism like so many before him. We're also introduced to a number of themes that will be explored throughout the album, success, the exploitation of talent, power and influence, and the black experience in America. Through character development and thematic content,

is setting the stage for our story, and we're left wondering what will happen next. Without a chance to catch our breath, Wesley's theory concludes with the sending outburst of the phrase, Taxman, coming. Taxman, which could easily be replaced by the word boogeyman, is an obvious reference to Wesley Snipes' fate. If you're successful in black in America, you'd better watch your back. I also couldn't help but snicker at the double meaning, intentional or not, of the phrase Taxman coming, and the way it ascends to a perhaps literal climax, as if Uncle Sam is getting off on his exploitative fantasies. This climactic outro immediately collides with the album's next track for free,

which will explore in great detail next time on Dysect. Dysect is written and produced by me. If you enjoy Dysect, remember to rate and review on iTunes. It really helps. For additional content, including a Tipinpa Butterfly album map, follow us at Dysect Podcast on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram, or visit Dicectpodcast.com. Theme music by Birocratic. For more, visit birocratic.bancamp.combe.