United In Grief— Kendrick Lamar

#365Songs: January 29th

I wish I was somebody
Anybody but myself
Ooh, I wish I was somebody
Anybody but myself

It’s rare, now, to know exactly where you were when you heard an album for the first time. We don’t listen to albums in the same way, not from beginning to end in one setting, immersed. And even when I do, it’s even rarer that listening is the only thing I’m doing at that moment. My ADHD sparks up, and I’ll drift off into a book, doom scroll Instagram or Twitter, or respond to emails.

On May 13, 2022, I sat outside at a diner early with the same expectations. I’d been eagerly anticipating the new Kendrick Lamar album, Mr. Morale & the Bigsteppers, and had already picked up on the stark range of reactions — from “greatest rap album ever” to “what is this shit.” The moment I hit play on the opening track, United in Grief, every distraction faded out. The operatic first verse, the heightened rage, and then a burst of angry drums, piano contrasts, and the layers keep coming. It’s raw, urgent, dramatic. The grief struck me, the way he’s processing his pain alongside us.

For the next hour and 18 minutes, I sat there and listened. Drank coffee and nothing else. Stared out and watched cars drive by, stores begin to open, shoppers shuffling past. The complexity, the intensity, but more than that the unapologetic artistry of Kendrick’s immersive process, as if we’re the therapist staring back as he unravels and paints his childhood traumas for us.

I’m sensitive, I feel everything, I feel everybody
One man standing on two words, heal everybody
Transformation, then reciprocation, karma must return
Heal myself, secrets that I hide, buried in these words
Death threats, ego must die, but I let it purge
Pacify broken, pieces of me, it was all a blur
Mother cried, put they hands on her, it was family ties

United In Grief is not an easy song, nor is this an easy album to hear, process, or return to over and again. It requires your time, demands your attention, asks that you feel its pain and grief with all its sharp edges. Perhaps it is both “the greatest rap album of all time” if you’re ready to receive it and a little bit of “what is this shit” if you’re not. I was ready that morning to receive it, and my memory of the experience is reminiscent of that cathartic exhaustion you feel after a perfect theater performance, or when you sit down for the first time in the evening after a funeral.

I heard it all, I should’ve grabbed a gun, but I was only five
I still feel it weighing on my heart, my first tough decision
In the shadows, clinging to my soul as my only critic
Where’s my faith? Told you I was Christian, but just not today
I transformed, praying to the trees, God is taking shape
My mother’s mother followed me for years in her afterlife
Staring at me on back of some buses, I wake up at night
Loved her dearly, traded in my tears for a Range Rover
Transformation, you ain’t felt grief ’til you felt it sober

Grief is a gun that shoots at you when you’re not looking, the storm that finds you wherever you hide, the response to a question you’re too afraid to ask. Perhaps this is an album you can only hear if you know grief, a piece of art you can only accept when you’re willing to drown in another person’s darkness.

I remember looking in the mirror knowing I was gifted
Only child, me for seven years, everything for Christmas
Family ties, they accused my cousin
“Did he touch you Kendrick?”
Never lied, but no one believed me when I said “He didn’t”
Frozen moments, still holding on it
Hard to trust myself, I started rhyming
Coping mechanisms to lift up myself

Often, my favorite art is the art others avoid — the saddest songs, the epic novels, the dreary films. The sort of stories that remind us that suffering may be optional, but pain truly is inevitable. This song, this album, this artist is a masterpiece, a gift to this world that is ready for you when you’re ready to receive it.

Talked to my lawyer, told me not to be so hard on myself
He has an aura I hope to achieve, if I find some help
Congratulations, made it to be famous, still I feel uneasy
Water watching, live my life in nature, only thing relieves me
Spirit guide whisper in my ear tell me that she sees me
“Did he touch you?” I said “No” again, still they didn’t believe me
Mother’s brother said he got revenge for my mother’s face
Black and blue, the image of my queen that I can’t erase
’Til this day can’t look her in the eyes, pain is taking over
Blame myself, you never felt guilt ’til you felt it sober
I wish I was somebody
Anybody but myself
Ooh, I wish I was somebody
Anybody but myself
I was never high, I was never drunk
Never out my mind, I need control
They handed me some smoke, but still I declined
I did it sober, sitting with myself
I went through all emotions, no dependents
Except for the one, let me bring you closer
Intoxicated, here’s a lustful nature that I failed to mention
Insecurities that I project, sleeping with other women
Whitney’s hurt, the pure soul I know, I found her in the kitchen
Asking God, “Where did I lose myself? And can it be forgiven?”
Broke me down, she looked me in my eyes “Is there an addiction?”
I said “No”, but this time I lied, I knew that I can’t fix it
Pure soul, even in her pain know she cared for me
Gave me a number, said she recommended some therapy
I asked my momma why she didn’t believe me when I told her “No”
I never knew she was violated in Chicago, I’m sympathetic
Told me that she feared it happened to me, for my protection
Though it never happened, she wouldn’t agree
Now I’m affected, twenty years later trauma has resurfaced
Amplified as I write this song, I shiver ’cause I’m nervous
I was five, questioning myself, ‘lone for many years
Nothing’s wrong, just results on how them questions made me feel
I made it home, seven years on tour, chasing manhood
But Whitney’s gone by time you hear this song, she did all she could
All these women gave me super powers, what I thought I lacked
I pray our children don’t inherit me and feelings I attract
A conversation not being addressed in black families
The devastation haunting generations and humanity
They raped our mothers, then they raped our sisters
Then they made us watch, then made us rape each other
Psychotic torture between our lives, we ain’t recovered
Still livin’ as victims in the public eyes who pledge allegiance
Every other brother has been compromised
I know the secrets, every other rapper sexually abused
I see ’em daily burying the pain in chains and tattoos
So listen close before you start to pass judgement on how we move
Learn how we cope, whenever his uncle had to walk him from school
His anger grows deep in misogyny
This is post-traumatic Black families and a sodomy, today is still active
So I set free myself from all the guilt that I thought I made
So I set free my mother all the hurt that she titled shame
So I set free my cousin, chaotic for my mother’s pain
I hope Hykeem made you proud, ’cause you ain’t die in vain
So I set free the power of Whitney, may she heal us all
So I set free our children, may good karma keep them with God
So I set free the hearts filled with hatred, keep our bodies sacred
As I set free all you abusers, this is transformation
I wish I was somebody
Anybody but myself
Ooh, I wish I was somebody
Anybody but myself
You did it, I’m proud of you
You broke a generational curse
Say, “Thank you dad”
Thank you daddy, thank you mommy, thank you brother
Mr. Morale
Before I go in fast asleep
Love me for me
I bare my soul and now we’re free