Mr. Morale

Kendrick Lamar's Mr. Morale and The Big Steppers hit me hard. 

Lin and I were eagerly awaiting the release of this album so when it was released, 

even though we had a listening party planned with family and friends for that same evening we couldn't help but blast it first thing in the morning.  

Ocean took it in with us.  

As all of Kendrick's albums do, Mr. Morale had a narrative arc to it.  Each track has it's own story and then there's the meta-commentary, narrative, and statement they are making together as a mosaic.  It quickly became apparent that this album was not just shining light on the stories of others in order to paint a picture of life in his community, as he has done masterfully in previous albums, and also not only making a critique of the ills of society as he experiences them.  This album turned all the way inward and Kendrick filleted himself in a way, that at least I, couldn't have predicted.  I had no idea what to expect from the album, except greatness, but Kendrick opened himself up in a way that only an artist who know's the most impactful and important art doesn't come from analysis of the world around but through telling a truth that only they can tell.  Kendrick did this, and it was healing. 

I have found myself brought to tears on several occasions while listening and relistening, by myself, in the presence of others, and most memorably for myself, with my father. 

This last Saturday while taking Tux out on a walk with my dad I showed him the tracks "Father Time" and "Mother I Sober", sharing with him what I think of the album.  He's never listened to much hip-hop, but he was tuned fully in since he could see that it was meaningful to me.  After giving him the cliff notes about Kendrick's story of being on a healing journey, healing from the wounds of sex addiction, grief, "daddy issues" we listened to the portion of "Mother I Sober" where Whitney, Kendrick's partner's voice chimes in to say "You did it, I'm proud of you, You broke a generational curse, Say "Thank you, dad" and then Kendrick's daughter's voice chimes in too "Thank you, daddy, thank you, mommy, thank you, brother"

I stopped and said thank you to my dad, thank you for breaking the generational curses of physical, mental, and emotional abuse, toxic masculinity, and chauvinism in our family line.  We shared one of the longer hugs we've ever had.  These moments don't create themselves, something often creates the space for the connection and healing to flow.  

In this instance, it was this beautiful offering from King Kendrick. 

Thank you Oklama!