7 Ways Kendrick Lamar's "good Kid, m.A.A.d. City" Has Changed the Rap Game In the Year Since It Came Out

A look at the album's impact on its one-year anniversary.

Complex Original

Image via Complex Original

It's hard to believe that it's already been a year.

When good Kid, m.A.A.d. City dropped on October 22, 2012, there was definitely a buzz surrounding it. Since Section.80, it had become apparent that Kendrick Lamar was on an upward trajectory.

But even the most excited fans probably didn't anticipate just how good the record turned out to be. Conceptually ambitious, thoughtful, accessible, and smart, it transformed a good kid into a superstar. It shifted the balance of power in hip-hop. And it sparked new debates about the state of the art form.

Kendrick Lamar has become, in many ways, a bulletproof figure in hip-hop since that time. Many people out there are no doubt hoping Drake will respond more explicitly to "Control" if only to create a real competition. Beloved both within and without hip-hop, by critics and populist supporters alike, Kendrick Lamar's lyrically-oriented style has inspired a lot of people.

But we want to cut through the hyperbole and puncture the excess. To this writer, it isn't so much innovative as it is a refinement of other styles. Its originality is more abstract, more thematic.

We know good Kid shifted the discussion. But which specific ways did it really have an impact? These are 7 Ways Kendrick Lamar's "good Kid, m.A.A.d. City" Has Changed the Rap Game.

It set a new standard for the art of the album.

30-odd years deep into the creation of the art form, I think we can accept some hard facts: No. 1, concept albums are not always fire. They're more likely to earn you credibility with the "tasteful" music snob, or the guy who won't admit to knowing any 2 Chainz bars. But that doesn't mean that they're going to be fun to listen to. Sometimes you don't need to hear skits in between every damn song. Sometimes you don't need an 8-minute "conceptual" track that would never in a million years get radio play, but that your homie tells you is dope just because it's fulfilling some abstract duty to the narrative. And sometimes, trying to tell some complicated story through a series of songs doesn't actually access some wellspring of deeper meaning. It's just a cheap way to show "depth." Where are the bangers?

Then, once in awhile, along comes a record that doesn't just salvage the "concept record," but executes the style so flawlessly (and without losing listenability), that you'll forget you ever complained about skits. Everything about good Kid, m.A.A.d. City, from the interludes with his (actual!) parents, to the elongated concept song "Sing About Me, I'm Dying of Thirst," feels like an essential part of the record. You don't have to think good Kid is flawless, even, to recognize how much life it pumped into an older formula. There are plenty of songs on the record that work when removed from the conceptual cage: "Money Trees," "Backseat Freestyle," "Swimming Pools."

Being ambitious is a risk for any artist. Nine times out of ten, going out on a limb is more likely to put you on your face than deliver. But on good Kid, Kendrick threaded the needle with ease.

It turned Kendrick Lamar into a star.

Kendrick Lamar was big, and the buzz was real, one year ago. But at this point, his singles hadn't really had too big of an impact on radio ("Swimming Pools" wouldn't peak until after the album came out). He was selling out larger and larger venues; I watched him perform in the 3,500 capacity Congress Theater in Chicago in September, 2012, to a packed house.

But he needed something to put him over the edge, and good Kid, m.A.A.d. City was just that release. One year later, and he's guesting on songs by artists like Robin Thicke, and in direct competition with the genre's best selling rapper, Drake. good Kid enabled Kendrick to release "Control," to call out virtually every rapper in his lane. It was the moment that transformed an unlikely introvert into one of the genre's biggest success stories, at a time with true hip-hop stars—on the Drake, Nicki Minaj, Macklemore level—are few and far between. (In fact, he was only the fourth new rap artist—alongside those three—to go platinum since 2006.)

Along with the releases of albums by Ab-Soul and Schoolboy Q, it made TDE the new hot label.

A rising tide lifts all boats, and rise, good Kid, m.A.A.d. City did.

The success of Kendrick Lamar as an unlikely mainstream hero suggested that even mystical weirdos like Ab-Soul, or gangster eccentrics like Schoolboy Q, might have a shot at—at the very least—substantial national popularity, if not outright stardom themselves. Each member of TDE has a unique approach. Ironically, Jay Rock—whose gangster rap style would have made him the most likely star in the group a decade earlier—has perhaps the lowest profile in the crew. But with his scene-stealing verse on "Money Trees," Jay Rock muscled his way back into the spotlight, too. good Kid, m.A.A.d. City grabbed a spotlight not just for the group's introverted intellectual, but his extended musical family as well.

It sparked a discussion about how soon an album can be declared a "classic."

Reasonable Doubt is often held up as a prime example of the lag between an album's release and its eventual acclaim as a "classic." Jay Z's debut was not nearly as celebrated upon its release as it would be years later. But even going back to seemingly etched-in-stone classics like Illmatic, you will find that—upon initial release—there was definite dissent.

A classic isn't determined by some objective truth, but rather a consensus of fans, and an aggregation of trends. The "test of time" is something of a myth. What really happens is that a lot of opinions begin to aggregate. Certain narratives form, and begin to win over converts. Every few years, someone will shout "Wait!" And point to a record that, although initially ignored—say, Reasonable Doubt—was, in fact, much better than had been initially remembered. Or perhaps an album held up as a classic (not going to pick on anyone here) wasn't really all that.

But what's happened in hip-hop is that the hip-hop audience has become a lot more cognizent of "classic" status. As a thing to aspire to. As an overarching goal for every rapper, from the lowbrow to the avant garde. Although there are always people calling new records "classics" on a daily basis, as a whole, consensus is considerably more divided than it has been in the past. It's a lot harder to win over the hip-hop nation, because the hip-hop nation is so diverse. Classics are more rare than ever.

The big exception was good Kid, m.A.A.d. City, which spawned a whole new set of arguments, simply because it was the record everyone seemed to agree upon. (This was ours.)

It established a crowning achievement for the West Coast's new class.

The West Coast has gone through something of a resurgence in the past few years. Between the club sound of producers like DJ Mustard (Tyga's "Rack City") and Iamsu! to the lyrical prowess of Kendrick's TDE crew, from the laconic beachfront raps of Dom Kennedy to G rappers like YG and Nipsey Hussle, from the oddball Odd Future clique to the lecherous rap&b of Ty Dolla $ign and the manic personality of Roach Gigz, the Left Coast has experienced a lowkey renaissance. But it was good Kid, m.A.A.d. City that, more than any other record, qualifies as the movement's crowning moment.

Other artists have released great records. A gang of new talent has emerged. But Kendrick managed to make a record that was not only shaped by his hometown, but helped draw attention to its diversity and range.

Inspired nonstop "ya bish" tweets.

Top 5 "Bish" song titles:

"Bish Better Have My Money"
"Ryde or Die Bish"
"Bish Please II"
"Life's a Bish"
"A Bish Iz a Bish"

It propelled an accessible, conscientious P.O.V. that helped bridge current rifts within hip-hop.

Kendrick's success is due to many factors, not the least of which is his ability to appeal to a wide breadth of hip-hop fans. He tackles subjects that have popular appeal—drinking, macho bravado—but complicates his relationship with these attitudes, giving them a real dimension. He creates a world on good Kid in which actions have consequences, a realistic response to a genre that oftentimes plays with exaggerated, intoxicated fantasies. He bridged a divide between the streets and the fully-emerged middle class hip-hop fanbase. He managed to please "lyrical" heads while remaining accessible and creating worthwhile songs.

In essence, he managed to pull together a lot of impulses within hip-hop that seemed at odds, and make them fit in a natural way on his debut album.