I’ll throw out that I’m not particularly into hip hop. Still, I’m personally tired of hip hop epics of misunderstood cult heroes from a relentlessly bleak hood life. That’s not to say it’s illegitimate or not a story worth telling—just that I feel like I’ve heard it before. A cringe white boi I may be, but I feel like I’ve heard all of good kid, m.A.A.d city from an equal or greater voice. Equally unsurprising is that album’s success, as the style of late ’90s conscious rap seems to be the most critically popular. I’m not philosophically opposed to it; I think Ready to Die is a fantastic album.

To Pimp a Butterfly (TPaB) follows the cultural chronology of its forbears. Lamar incorporates a familiar tapestry of jazz, funk, and soul, but even this chimerical cross-section feels like an established blueprint for a magnum opus. Heck, Black Messiah released the year before TPaB, and it follows a similar genre-hopping trajectory, just with a different ratio of genre presence. Maybe we just love a decent take on old favorites.

I find Kendrick’s persona doesn’t reach the level of other hip hop legends, which affects the music. None of To Pimp a Butterfly really stuck with me, even if I can recognize the raw effort that went into its creation. I think Lamar does better with future album’s pop sensibilities. Give me Tetsuo & Youth any day.