Kendrick Lamar's 'DAMN.' Is Introspective And Unforgiving

Spoiler alert: DAMN. opens with Kendrick Lamar narrating his own shooting death at the hands of a blind assailant. This seems to be a tradition amongst Los Angeles rappers: Lamar's most obvious predecessor, Ice Cube, rapped about dying at least three times on his first two albums. The shared message from both artists is that violent ends can arrive unexpectedly, especially if you're young, black and male.

It's no coincidence that Lamar decided to release on Good Friday, a day meant to mark the is redolent with Biblical references, the temperament is decidedly Old Testament, filled with cold wrath and righteous punishments owing to the wages of sin and the blood of innocents. The tone on is a stark contrast to the funky exuberance on Lamar's much-lauded from 2015: There, he seemed to revel in a torrent of creative intensity that some found exhilarating, others indulgent. If that album was like billiard balls scattering after the break, then wraps its focus inward, tight and layered, like a bundle of rubber bands.