Dissect - S1E9 – Alright by Kendrick Lamar

Episode Date: October 11, 2016

We continue our serialized analysis of Kendrick Lamar's To Pimp a Butterfly by dissecting "Alright." 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 Kushner. Today, we continue our serialized examination of Tapimp a butterfly by Kendrick Lamar. In our last episode, Kendrick reached an emotional rock bottom in the song, You, and revealed manic depression and suicidal thoughts caused by his new life outside of Compton. In the context of the album's narrative, You is an access point. It's the conclusion of Act 2, which we've titled, Cacooned, displaying the various ways Kendrick was mentally and emotionally walled as he attempted to reconcile

his Compton mentality with his new life of fame. On institutionalized, we saw how systemic racism breeds an institutionalized mind state, which manifested in Kendrick's friend's desire to rob at the BET Awards. On these walls, Kendrick misused his influence to exact revenge on an imprisoned Compton enemy by having sex with the mother of his child. On you, Kendrick drunkenly confronts the hypocrisy of claiming to be an influence on a worldwide fan base while failing to affect the people closest to him, his friends and his family in Compton. The conclusion of you signals Act 3 of Tipa Butterfly, which I've titled Emerging Wings. After a song with so much vulnerability, honesty, self-analysis, pain and therapeutic release, Kendrick will begin searching for answers as the album progresses.

He's realized the success that he once believed would unlock the world's treasures and bring him satisfaction as backfired. After hitting rock bottom, Kendrick will begin a new, searching for meeting and purpose. That search begins with the next track, the album's smash single, All Right. In the context of the album's narrative, Allright takes place the morning after the drunken confession heard on you. After a therapeutic confrontation with his demons, it seems Kendrick has awoken with a more optimistic outlook and seems determined to overcome his anxieties. outside of the album, All Right has been adopted as an unofficial anthem of the Black Lives Matter movement. The song's simple message of hope through solidarity and resilience struck a chord with supporters of the movement,

and the refrain, We Gonna Be All Right, has been heard chanted up protests and rallies across the country. On our episode today, we'll first dissect All Right in the context of Tipa Butterfly's narrative. We'll then talk about All Right through the lens of the country's current race relations, and what it came to mean to the Black Lives Matters. movement. So without further ado, let's dissect. All right was produced by contemporary legend Farrell Williams alongside TDE in-house producer Soundwave. Forell provided the song's musical foundation and concept, which seemed originally intended for the rapper Fabulous. In January 2014, over the

Over one year before the release of Tipinpa Butterfly, Ferell was seen at a rap party premiering new music from his iPod. Among the tracks previewed was a version of the All Right beat with a hook performed by Fabulous. The song then disappeared into obscurity and resurfaced as the Kendrick version we know today. Shortly after Tipinpa Butterfly was released, Fabulous leaked the early version of All Right. You don't even know, every day a so-called friend turn four. This nigger, nimmer we was in a yo, talking about how they don't want to see you blow.

Nigga, then you get a little dope. Then the motherfucker started acting like you owe. Nigga, had to switch up the flow. Now I got to stay on the grind, but come on, nigga, we going be all right. Nigel, we going to be all right. Nigel, we going to be all right. Nick, we going to be all right.

Do you hear me? Do you feel me? We're going to be all right. Nigger, we going to be all right. Huh? We going to be all right. This early version seems to align with Kendrick's story of the song's creation. the concept of which he credits to Farrell.

The process of all right was one of the things where he already had it. He already had the idea for me. He's been feeding me music while I was on tour, on the Kanye tour, back and forth and just really giving me music that inspires me to put the energy in it, you know, whether it's soulful, whether it's fun. It's just always an inspiration and always a phenomenal, time working with him, so looking for All Right to be in one of them things this summer coming up and everybody to enjoy themselves. Yeah.

Musically, the track is based on a single chord that moves in parallel motion one half step. The harmonies are rich and jazz-like, which makes the introduction of the trap-style 808 drums striking. It's a juxtaposition that falls in line with the contrasting themes of All Right we've discussed this far. Let's listen to the song's introduction, then talk about some key references in the opening lyrics. color purple. It's said by the novel's supporting character Sophia, an independent black woman in the early 20th century who refused to be abused by her husband. The quote was made famous in the movie adaptation of the color purple in which Sophia is played by Oprah Winfrey. All my life I had to fight.

I had to fight my daddy. I had to fight my uncles. I had to fight my brothers. The girl child ain't safe in the family men's. But I ain't never thought I had to fight in my own house. The powerful message was directed at the novel's main character, Selly, who's seen abuse and tragedy many times over, and ultimately finds independence and strength by the story's end. The line All My Life I Had to Fight has since been extrapolated from the novel and stands to represent the enduring strength of the black community,

who have been forced to continually fight for its rights and equality. in American society. In the context of Tipipa Butterfly, the line is the first thing we hear after sustaining the trauma of the album's previous song, You. That song, if you'll remember, ended with the lines, and if I tell your secrets, the world will know money can't stop a suicidal weakness. For context sake, let's hear those closing lines of you followed by the opening of All Right. You're like, ya, bad chips like ya, Nazareth. I'm fucked up, homie, you fucked up.

But if God got us, then we go be all right. Nigger, we're going to be all right. You is left open-ended, unresolved, with a clinking bottle of alcohol and thoughts of suicide. Resolution then comes in a powerful way. The opening chords of All Right, Kendrick's exclamation of All Is My Life I Has to Fight, and the triumphant saxophone riff that follows accumulate into a kind of heroine. resurrection. We can just imagine our hero Kendrick being down for the count, broken and bleeding, only to dramatically rise at the final moment, ready to fight again. Of course, using the Walker

quote to express this sentiment only works to align his personal struggles with the more universal struggles of the black community. The introduction continues to universalize those struggles. Kendrick notes hard times and bad trips, then says, Nazareth, I'm fucked up, homie you fucked up, but if God got us, then we won't be all right. It seems that through God, Kendrick believes there is no adversity too difficult to navigate. He finds solidarity and common ground in the flaws within himself and his homies and preaches a message of strength and union and faith in God's plan.

The song's hook follows the introduction, performed by Farrell himself. Like any great anthem, Alright's refrain is simple, brief, catchy, and most importantly, extremely versatile. There's not a wasted syllable, and the inflection in which it's performed is infectious, and can be repeated infinitely without tiring. In fact, its message only gets stronger the more it's heard. We're going to speak more about all rights refrain within the historical context of protest songs later in the episode.

But for now, let's hear the opening measures of the song's first verse. And when I wake up, I recognize you looking at me for the pay cut, but I'm a side be looking at you from the face down. One mac eleven even room with the base down. scheming and let me tell you about my life the verse begins with the line and when i wake up i recognize you're looking at me for the pay cut this is confirmation that all right in terms of the album's narrative takes place the morning after the drunken saga of you kendrik has awoke with a newfound clarity and takes a direct shot at uncle sam he recognizes once and for all uncle sam's

desire to exploit kendrick's talent for financial gain it's a proclamation of defeat as uncle sam will no longer appear in the album from this point on. Unfortunately, there are many incarnations of sin, one of which will become very clear on the song's second verse. Kendrick continues saying, but homicide be looking at you from the face down, what Mac 11 even boomed with the base down. These two lines are especially cryptic. The first depicts the aftermath of a homicide and a subject, perhaps Uncle Sam, laying face down dead on the ground. He then references a Mac 11 gun, a semi-automatic that's typically equipped with a noise suppressor. With this line, we're reminded of the silence displayed around the tragic deaths of many

black Americans in the United States. It parallels the adage, if a tree falls in the forest and no one is around to hear it, doesn't make a sound. Likewise, if a gun fires and no one in the world cares about its victim, does it actually kill? Next, Kendrick speaks again on vices. Kendrick refers to women, money, and drugs as painkillers that put him in a twilight, a temporary escape. He then exclaims, Lord Knows, in a cadence similar to the Tupac song of the same name.

It's likely this was a conscious nod, as Tupac's Lord Knows speaks on drugs as a relief from suicidal thoughts. Yet again, another Tupac says to blow my brains out, Lord knows. Yet again, another Tupac reference on the album. It certainly won't be the last. Verse one of All Right concludes with talks of karma, heaven, and vice. Kendrick states, Reeping everything I sow, so my karma come in heaven,

no preliminary hearings on my record, I'm a motherfucking gangster in silence for the record. Kendrick believes the true judgment about his behavior will come from God at the gates of heaven, not from the judge in the courtroom. He plays on the double meaning of record, one referring to his music, perhaps specifically the confessions of the previous song You,

and the other being the court record. The verse concludes, Tell the world I know it's too late. Boys and girls, I think I'd gone crazy. Drown inside my vices all day, will you please believe when I say. Like in you, Kendrick is on the edge in despair. He thinks himself insane and losing his battle with vice.

But rather than drown in sorrow, Kendrick works towards a different conclusion with the song's pre-chorus. Note how throughout verse 1, Kendrick spoke in first person, I. On the pre-chorus, he will shift to a shared experience, we. We've been hurt, been down before. Nigga, when our pride was low, looking at the world like where do we go? Nigger, and we hate poor poor

when the killer's dead in the street for sure. Nigel, I'm at the preacher's door. My knees getting weak and my gun might blow, but we gonna be all right. Nica, we're gonna be all right. Through alignment with the shared plight of the black experience, Kendrick finds solidarity and strength. He says, we've been hurt, been down before,

when our pride was low looking at the world like, where do we go? Through ambiguity, Kendrick achieved universality. The sentiments are applicable to any of the various crosshoods African Americans face throughout history or will face in the future. In the context of Kendrick's own personal journey, being hurt, down, and looking for answers reflects the confessional sentiments of you. Kendrick then states, and we hate Po Poe, want to kill us dead in the streets for show. This is another example of Kendrick tapping into and subsequently vocalizing a general feeling among the members of his community. In this case, it's frustration with the justice system

that disproportionately targets black Americans and the general divide between police and members of the black community in places like Compton. Next, Kendrick says, I'm at the preacher's door, my knee's getting weak and my gun might blow, but we gonna be all right. The contrast here is striking. Kendrick at the preacher's door is a symbol of faith,

implying that he seeks the counsel of God to send him on the right path, in the midst of his hardships, and the hardships of the black community. Knees getting weak plays on the phrase, weaken the knees, which typically is an expression of losing one's strength in the face of something overwhelming. But given that Kendrick's at the preacher's door, his knees are more likely getting weak because of extended prayer.

With the next line, My Gun Might Blow, it would seem he's tired of waiting, or believes that sometimes prayer isn't enough. Sometimes action is necessary. We can interpret these lines a number of ways. Kendrick could still be referring to the sentiments of you. He's at the preacher's door, weak and seeking guidance on a new path in life, and my gun might blow refers to the suicidal thoughts he's admitted to having.

This interpretation is supported by the fact that Kendrick has switched back to using I instead of the collective we used throughout the pre-chorus. An alternative interpretation could be viewed through a more universal lens, reflecting the duality of peace and protest and the black community's struggle to receive equal treatment in the United States. In times of turmoil, some may turn to religion, praying in peaceful protest. Other times, frustration and plight express themselves in riot and rebellion. Oftentimes, it's a mixture of both. It's highly likely Kendrick wrote this passage to be interpreted on a personal and universal level. That's part of the brilliance of this song and this album,

the way Kendrick is able to align a very personal journey with the broader struggles of the Black experience. Of course, what unifies the two interpretations of the pre-chorus is the line We gonna be alright, which leads into a repetition of the song's hook. Verse two introduces a new character in the album's story, Lucy. Does this opening sound familiar? With that fresh in your mind, let's play the opening of verse 2 of Wesley Siri, the album's opening track. What you want, you a house, you a car, 40 acres and a mule, a piano, and guitar, anything, see my name is Uncle Sam, on your dog. Motherfucker, you can live at the mall.

I know you're a car. The introduction of Uncle Sam and the introduction of Lucy are identical. Right away, Kendrick is being very clear, evil adapts, and can appear in many incarnations and guises. Since announcing the defeat of Uncle Sam in the opening lines of verse 1, it seems evil is transformed into Lucy, short for Lucifer, the devil incarnate. Just when it seems Kendrick is headed once again on a path of positivity, temptation of sin shows itself, looking again to take advantage of Kendrick's vulnerable mind state.

This time, Kendrick immediately recognizes the presence of sin, yet can't help himself to temporarily relish in its temptations. What you want to a house, you a car, 40 acres in the mule, a piano or guitar, anything. See, my name is Lucy, I'm your dog. Motherfucker, you can live at the mall. I can see the evil, I can tell it, I know it's illegal, I don't think about it, I deposit. Every other zero thinking of my partner, put the candy painting, paint in on Noriko, digging in my pocket, and a profit, big enough to feed you every day, my logic, get another dollar just to keep you in the presence of your chico.

I don't talk about it, be about it. Kendrick says, I can see the evil, I can tell it, I know it's illegal. I don't think about it, I deposit every zero. He seems helpless under Lucy's spell and returns to escapism through materialism. He talks of flamboyantly painting a lowrider, followed by the line, digging in my pocket, ain't a profit big enough to feed you. Every day my logic, get another dollar just to keep you. Lucy has Kendrick in an endless spending spree similar to the adolescent fantasies

displayed on the opening verse of Wesley's Siri. As the verse continues, Kendrick seems to come to his senses and snaps himself out of her spell, signaled by an outburst of awe, which momentarily freezes a song in its tracks. I don't talk about it, be about it, every day a sequel. If I got it, then you know you got it.

Heaven, I can reach you. Pet up, pet up, pet up, my dog, that's all. Pick back and chat, I trap the back for y'all. I rap, I black on tracks, so rest of sure, my rights, my wrongs, I write till I'm right with guard. Kendrick seems to be remembering the path he was working towards before the presence of Lucy. He tells himself, I don't talk about it, be about it, every day I see cool,

and later says, heaven, I can reach you. One day at a time, Kendrick will attempt to work towards a better life, one that would eventually allow him into heaven. The verse concludes with a mission statement. I rap, I black on track, so rest assured, my rights, my wrongs, I write till I'm right with God. The recording booth is Kendrick's confessional booth. and he plans to ride his way into God's good graces,

which he feels he's lost due to his behavior on the album thus far. After a repetition of the song's pre-chorus and hook, All right concludes with a dreamy, hypnotic outro. The outro begins, I keep my head up high, I cross my heart and hope to die. Loving me is complicated. The optimistic sentiments of All right are summarized with the line, Keep my head up high,

I promise Kendrick seals with the next line, cross my heart and hope to die. Of course, hearing hope to die so close to the suicidal thoughts of the album's previous song, You, we can also interpret this outro through a lens of pessimism. Keep my head up high, could refer to his mind state under the influence of alcohol and drugs. And cross my heart and hope to die are as suicidal thoughts. It's truly fitting then that this passage is followed by the line, Loving Me is Complicated. A direct reference to the refrain, loving you is complicated on you. Kendrick is battling pessimism and optimism, good and evil, God and Lucy. The next passage closes out the song, Too Afraid, A Lot of Changes, I'm Alright and You're

Our Favorite, Dark Nights in My Prayers. Kendrick is again citing the changes in his life since finding success and escaping Compton, and he's had many a Dark Nights as portrayed on you. In the context of the album's narrative, All Right is far from a resolution. It's more like an action plan. Kendrick the fighter has not won the battle. He's simply back on his feet, ready to fight again. After his meltdown in the hotel room on you, he speaks again a battling vice, from the painkiller's Pretty Pussy and Benjamin of verse one to the prophet-driven materialism of Lucy in

verse 2. But through the pre-chorus and refrain, he's found strength and solidarity with the black community, realizing that his personal struggles are not unlike the history of the black experience in America. As he says in the song's pre-chorus, we've been hurt, been down before. Kendrick has remembered that fight is inherent in the Black experience, that progress has and will continue to be made due to the fortitude, strength, and general perseverance of his people. All my life I had to fight, indeed. After confessing his sins on you, Al right sees Kendrick laying out a path of redemption through music and faith in God. We'll continue to follow him on his road to recovery and as he continues to battle evil, temptation, sin, and his place in the world

outside of Compton. On Topipa Butterfly, All Right is still in service to the album's narrative. But outside of that narrative, All right has taken a life of its own. Beginning in 2012, when an unarmed black teen Trayvon Martin was killed by George Zimmerman, who was subsequently acquitted without punishment, the hashtag Black Lives Matter emerged on social media outlets. It became a kind of digital town square where dialogue, frustration, and debate could be expressed around issues of racial profiling and racial inequality in the United States. The phrase would come to represent a national movement whose pursuit was and continues to be racial justice and social awareness.

The movement intensified as more and more unarmed black men and women continue to lose their lives by the hand of the police, in often sketchy circumstances, some of which were captured on videotape. In July 2014, unarmed black man Eric Gardner was choked to death on the streets in New York, while repeatedly saying, I can't breathe. Within a month, Michael Brown was shot 12 times in Ferguson, Missouri, which incited several nights of nationwide protests and riots, some of which were met with the response from the National Guard.

Then came the deaths of Jonathan Farrell, John Crawford, Azeal Ford, Laquan McDonald, Akai Gurley, Tamir Rice, Eric Harris, Walter Scott, Freddie Gray, Sandra Bland, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, and at the time of writing this, Keith Lamont Scott and Terrence Crutcher. While Black Lives Matter is an ongoing movement, let's think back to the time of Timpipa Butterfly's release in March 2015. Just three months prior, the decision not to indict the officer who killed Michael Brown ignited protests and riots across the country. In the same month, 12-year-old Tamir Rice was seen holding a toy gun and was shot and killed by police. Tipinpa Butterfly was released in the midst of this national chaos on March 15, 2015. Less than a month after its release, Freddie Gray was arrested and sustained fatal spine injuries

while being insecurely transported in the back of a motor car. Gray's death caused national unrest, culminating into a state of emergency declared in Baltimore. On June 28th of 2015, Kendrick opened the BET Awards with a memorable performance of All Right. The stage's backdrop was dawned with an enormous American flag and Kendrick rapped on top of a cop car. It was a seminal moment. It of course evoked imagery of riot and protest, but through that imagery came a message of positivity and solidarity.

We've been hurt, been down before, but we gonna be all right. The performance was praised by most, but of course was met with backlash from a few, specifically Fox News reporter Harado Rivera. Herala, not helpful with those song lyrics. To say the least, not helpful at all. This is why I say that hip hop has done more damage to young African Americans than racism in recent years. This is exactly the wrong message.

And then to conflate... Yes, you heard that correctly. Rivera said that hip hop has done more to damage African Americans than racism in recent years. While the ignorance of this statement, I think, speaks for itself. Kendrick did address the comments with an interview with TMZ. Todd, can you take a song that's about hope and turn into hatred? You know what I'm saying? The message, the overall message is we're going to be all right.

It's not the message of I want to kill people. The symbol of your BET performance is you standing on a vandalized cop car. Does that carry some weight in terms of what Geraldo sang? No, it doesn't. You know, the problem is in me standing on the cop car. I think his attempt is really deluding the real problem, which is the senseless acts of killings of these young boys out here. You know what I'm saying? And I think for the most part is avoiding the truth.

You know, this is reality. This is my world. This is what I talk about in my music. You know, you can't delude that. You know, me being on the cop car, that's the performance piece after these senseless acts. You dig what I'm saying? Of course I'm going to be enraged about what's going on here. Of course, I'm going to speak on it.

You know, but at the same time, you can't delieve the overall message. Here we angry about what's going on. Yeah, we see what's going on. You know what I'm talking about? But you can't do that. You can't take away our hope and our privilege that things will be okay at the end of the day. Hip-hop is not the problem. Our reality is the problem of the situation.

You know, this is our music. This is us expressing ourselves. You know, rather going out here and doing the murders myself, I wouldn't express myself in a positive light the same way other artists are doing, not going out in the streets, going to booth and talking about the situation, you know,

and hoping these kids can find some type of influence on it and in a positive matter, you know. Coming from the streets and coming from these neighborhoods, we're taking our talents and putting them inside the studio. Of course, Rivera's comments only fueled the fire. Just a month after Kendrick's performance on BET, protesters in Cleveland chanted the song's refrain after an altercation that led police to using pepper spray on the crowd. In the context of a protest, the refrain increases in both complexity of meaning and power.

It's a chant of hope and solidarity, of course, but it's also one of defiance. As if to say, whatever you do to us, we're going to be all right, and there's nothing you can do about it. It's a kind of optimism and showcase of the resiliency of the black spirit that would frustrate a racist. Soon, Allright was being chanted at protests across the country. Several news outlets, including BET, suggested that All Right be the modern national black anthem. And while All right came to be the soundtrack of a movement because the hopeful message behind it, the infectiousness of the song's refrain should not be overlooked. Its simple five syllables lends themselves perfectly to repetition.

It can be whispered, it can be shouted. It's both universal and specific, relevant in any number of settings. For context and for fun, let's sample a few protest anthems of the last 50 years, listening for commonalities between them. Simple, infectious, to the point, and easily repeatable. First, Bob Marley's Get Up Stand Up. Next, Public Enemies' Up Stand Up for your right. Next, Sam Cook's a change is going to come. And finally, we shall overcome by Pete Seeger.

Deep in my heart, I do believe we shall overcome someday. We shall overcome someday. We shall live in peace. We Shall Overcome is a hymn popularized by Pete Seeger and became the unofficial protest song of the Civil Rights Movement in the 1960s. Many have compared the impact of All Right to We Shall Overcome, as both express a message of hope and endurance in the face of adversity, and both became the adopted soundtrack to a movement. Conclusions While All Right was embraced by the Black Lives Matter movement and a sense taken a life

of its own outside of Tipinpa Butterfly. It's important to reiterate the fact that within the context of the album, Al right is an integral piece of the narrative. It's a direct and powerful response to the album's previous track, You. It's a mission statement, a call to action if only to himself, and a reminder that he and his community have faced hardships many times over and survived. As the album progresses, we'll continue to follow Kendrick as he battles with celebrity, the survival's guilt of leaving Compton,

and the album's new antagonist Lucy. All right concludes with a recitation of the narrative poem with an additional three lines revealed. I remember you was conflicted, misusing your influence. Sometimes I did the same. Abusing my power full of resentment, resentment that turned into a deep depression. Found myself screaming in the hotel room.

I didn't want to self-destruct. The evils of Lucy was. all around me. So I went running for answers. It's from the perspective of Lucy that the album's next track for sale is written, which will explore in its entirety next time on Dissect. Dissect is written and produced by me. If you've enjoyed what you've heard, consider reviewing Dissect on iTunes.

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