Simply put J. Cole‘s newest album KOD is about relationships: relationships with family, friends, fans, business associates, god and most importantly himself. He analyzes each with a critical mind, and the necessity behind catering to all of them equally is pushing him to his edge. His point-of-view is divided like a prism, and the reflective light is the ensuing raps; sometimes humble and apologetic other times rabid and thirsty for blood.

The production per usual utilizes a mellow arrangement of pristine boom-baps and introspective jazz loops, nothing too far from his comfort zone. The silkiness of the beats creates a solid foundation for his candid approach to lyricism; narratives rooted in mental health and well-being. On paper, it sounds abstract, but it’s delivered in a straight-laced package that has come to make J. Cole a dynamic, cross-generational lyricist.

Intro (KOD)

A silky beat ushers in a whirlwind of emotions and memories. His consciousness is flooded with stimuli and he’s looking for respite. In order to preserve his sanity, his subconscious is triggered and is releasing all the uncertainty and anxiety that has been pent up inside of him. The knowledge discovered is a refreshing reminder that often times the most meaningful answers come from within: [LISTEN]

KOD

J. Cole draws heavily from Kendrick Lamar, but flips it with a narrative unique to his upbringing. In the first verse, he’s pushing back on the masses who can’t help but assault him with dumb questions; ones he’s not particularly interested in answering. In the follow-up verse, he hits the eardrum with a little bit of background on where he’s from, and how love has been a guiding force in his life: [LISTEN]

Photograph

Over a mellow beat, Cole examines love in the digital age. He’s smitten by a woman he’s never met before, and the only connection he has to her is a photograph. She apparently has everything he’s ever wanted in a woman, and his heart is yearning for her in ways he’s never felt before. When it dawns on him that he’s never felt her touch he gets sick with grief; unsure if what he’s feeling is real: [LISTEN]

The Cut Off

A steady and swift boom-bap has Cole hitting his stride. The melancholy melodies, however, are a reminder to not overexert himself and let the narrative unfold naturally. At this point in his life, he’s had to distance himself from acquaintances because their demands were too much. His success has brought out the heathen in them, and the thought is making him feel isolated and lonely: [LISTEN]

ATM

The pace picks up, and Cole analyzes the intoxicating effects of money. He can’t help himself, and it’s almost as if he’s a totally different person. The satire captures, not only the current state of mainstream rap, but the prevailing thought of most of the world. Greed is a sickness that has reached pandemic levels, and Cole is hoping that a little self-reflection can heal his scarred psyche: [LISTEN]

Motiv8

The broken beat has Cole careening in and out of verbal traffic. He’s searching for motivation in a world where authenticity is scarce, as rare as gold. He wants those to know that nothing will get in his way, and that rap is his saving grace. It’s a constant struggle and his pursuit of greatness is an insatiable thirst. The hunt is on and he’s as focused and determined as ever: [LISTEN]

Kevin’s Heart

Cole speaks from the point of view of a drug addict. He’s on fire, and the addiction has set his life ablaze. The pain is so overwhelming that all he can do to remedy it is delve deeper into drugs. It’s a vicious cycle that many people find themselves in, and the hope is that love will quench the inferno before it’s too late. He’s looking for someone, anyone to save him from himself: [LISTEN]

Brackets

Money and taxes take center stage. Cole is unhappy about how his dollars are being spent, particularly in the school system. Too many in the black community have fallen through the cracks and he’s demanding accountability. The education of today’s youth is in flux, and teachers need to stop adhering to an archaic curriculum. Cole has worked hard for his money and wants it to be spent wisely: [LISTEN]

Once an Addict (Interlude)

J. Cole once again shines a spotlight on addiction, this time focusing on people close to home. Alcoholism has touched numerous family members, and he isn’t afraid to include himself in the equation. Mental health is another concern, and the demons who are haunting him never seem to relent. The recovery process is long and arduous, but he knows that he has to try otherwise tragedy awaits: [LISTEN]

Friends

Cole stages an intervention for all the homies who are struggling with addiction. He knows the message isn’t cool and the beat isn’t a banger per se, but it doesn’t matter; he’s not doing it for himself, but for his loved ones who need some encouraging words. He’s not being judgemental either, but rather offering himself as a friend who his tortured comrades can lean on when they lack strength: [LISTEN]

Window Pain (Outro)

After walking through hell, Cole raises his hands to the sky and thanks the lord for seeing him through. Life’s many challenges have taken its toll, but his pure heart helped protect him during his darkest moments. Family is a top priority and he wants to care for them the way they have for him. He’s returning the love and fortifying the relationships that matter most. A moment of pure clarity: [LISTEN]

1985 (Intro to the “Fall Off”)

Cole walks away with a few choice words. He’s keeping it 100% real, admonishing the new wave of rappers while still offering his support and understanding. It sounds contradictory, but he’s simply stating his opinions with no hate attached. He wants everyone to succeed, but for him rap is a sacred art and the young bucks out there don’t seem to understand that. Class is in session: [LISTEN]