Between finals week and the various musical projects seemingly dropping around the same time, this week has been a busy one. Thursday night at midnight was no different, especially with the consideration of the fact that J. Cole had announced the previous week that his new project would be released around then. Sure enough, one quick look on Spotify, and there it was, along with another hidden gem from TDE that nobody was ready for, but more on that later.

Between Friday Night Lights, The Warm Up, his signing with Jay-Z and the subsequent release of Cole World: A Sideline Story, and the time in between then and 2014 Forest Hills Drive, the sounds of J. Cole’s music have progressively changed, as has the subject matter from project to project. Cole World, the North Carolina native’s first album under Roc Nation, showcased all of the general themes of a young, hungry rapper, including a wide, but shallow palate of subject matter, an equally diverse palate of sounds, and validation of a younger rapper through a diversity of features, with contributing artists such as Jay-Z, Missy Elliot, Drake, and Trey Songz involved in the album.

While the song structure and lyricism on the first album was a good start, Born Sinner easily surpassed it, both sonically, and with its content. Much more self-contained than the first Born Sinner more easily fell into the category of a concept album, addressing a few different themes throughout the entirety of the album, including duality, loss of faith, both in oneself and in institutions, and the effects of money on the psyche of both society and the individual.

While Born Sinner was a concise project that solidified Cole’s place among the pantheon of new-age rappers within the Hip-hop community, it wasn’t until 2014 Forest Hills Drive that Cole received the props he’d always deserved from the general public. Producing no singles and having no features, the album, which would go on to be certified double Platinum, presented Cole from a drastically different perspective than the narratives of his previous projects, addressing themes such as the dynamics of leaving home to follow one’s dreams, blind to the struggles of those left behind, returning home to see the drought in juxtaposition to one’s success, and the general status of being famous, in all of its gilded nature.

2014 Forest Hills Drive was not only Cole’s best project in terms of sounds, lyricism, and subject matter, but it also set the bar for any future projects from the rapper, who has since become known for his brutally honest brand of storytelling, and his themes of pain, angst, and irony. With this new album, titled 4 Your Eyez Only, I adhered to my usual 1-Listen rules (straight through, with no playbacks) to see if J. Cole delivered with the same triumph as his previous work.

1. For Whom The Bell Tolls

The production of the first track comes in relatively mellow, almost something one would listen to in the car on a rainy day, and I can tell instantly that this track is going to be a favorite. It’s very jazzy, and almost sounds like something from Flying Lotus or Thundercat. Cole comes in with his usual raspy, half-rapping-half-singing flow to deliver a message of angst and existential pain characteristic of Cole’s music. The cuts on this track, the horns, the flow, and the background vocals are crazy.

“Do I want to die? I don’t know!”

First impressions usually set the tone, and as far as first impressions go, Cole comes in strong. On to the next one.

2. Immortal

With the loop and the hard-hitting snare, I can already tell that this song is going to be the “Tale of 2 Citiez” of this album. And just like that song, Cole raps over the beat with his trademark simple flow and ironic, sometimes duplicitous lyrics to tell an upbeat story of hood antics, reminding the audience that “Real n*ggas don’t die.”

That hook, that bass, and those background vocals, though. Like he often does, it seems like Cole isn’t necessarily himself, but is instead channeling somebody else’s perspective in this song, telling a story of law-breaking and willful ignorance that is usually criticized from the outside, but instead from the perspective of the perpetrator, explaining the conditions of misrepresentation and economic hardship (or opportunity) that led him to this lifestyle.

“Have you ever seen a friend cook crack on a spoon?

Have you ever seen a n*gga that was black on the moon?

Have you ever seen your brother go to prison as you cry?

Have you ever seen a mothaf*ckin’ ribbon in the sky?

Nope.

All I see is that C.R.E.A.M…”

Also, Cole touches on the subject of whether it’s more meaningful to burn bright and die young, or to live a long, unfulfilled life, drawing parallels with many of the late great rappers whom never got the recognition they deserved until after the fact.

3. Déjà vu

Oh, snap, this is over the Bryson Tiller “Exchange” beat (which is actually just a slowed-down loop from whatever sample used in like the only song Charles Hamilton ever dropped). And just like “Exchange,” this song seems like banger, not because of a lack of depth, but because of the simple flow, head-knocking beat and hook, and heavy base. Cole (or whoever his persona is for this album) seems to be narrating a story in which he tries to get next to a girl that isn’t single, claiming that he’s more suited for her because he has “bigger dreams.”

4. Ville Mentality

This album is definitely meant to be played in its entirety during the car ride on a gloomy day. Over the jazzy piano and bass, Cole, aided by his usual multiple layers of background vocals, sings about another existential crisis, wondering how long he can survive with his mentality. He also exhibits thoughts of ambition, wanting to move to a different location where he can be more productive, and a generally better person. However, lack of a way out encourages him to continue in his current actions and mentality, even to his detriment. He’ll change later.

Cole’s singing voice isn’t great, but as usual, if fits song well, with his painful vocals being a perfect compliment to the instruments and subject matter of the song. The second half of the song feature a little girl narrating her father’s death as she understands it, with him falling victim to the “Ville Mentality” being set up by his friend in the pursuit of illegal activities. At this point, it’s safe to say that this person’s is the perspective from which J. Cole has been rapping about.

5. She’s Mine Pt. 1

Once again, Cole sings over a sleepy beat about “his” first time falling in love, saying that “he” doesn’t want to die anymore, presumably because of the reason to live “she” represents. However, the speaker also explains that the same factors that have caused him to operate with his previously discussed mentality are now making it hard to open up to the subject of the song and fully accept her love in all of his vulnerability.

6. Change

Immediately, this next track contrasts the last, not so much in tone, but in tempo. Cole raps over an upbeat, yet still sleepy beat, as he narrates a renewal of hope, but also acknowledges the fact that mistakes will still be made, as is the nature of humanity. He claims that God, if there is such a thing, will understand his intentions, and that his reason for his sinning isn’t for the sake of fulfilling his vices, but with the intention of creating a better life for the people who now depend on him.

“My chosen religion/

Jesus piece, frozen from sinnin’/

Doing dirt, hoping to God he knows my intentions/

To see a million before I see a casket.

I got a baby on the way. Know he gon’ be a bastard…”

However, with all of the unapologetic nature of the first verse, the second verse sees Cole’s character making an attempt to live life through more sustainable means, trading his gun in for a basketball and beginning to make an attempt to discard his old demons. Maybe the hook explains the change in tone the best:

“The only real change comes from inside.”

Also, another gem:

“I call it poison; You call it real...”

The identity of the narrator is also revealed as Jermaine’s friend James, who died at 22 years old from reasons previously explained in “Ville Mentality.” One can’t help but ponder the irony, as another black man was taken victim by the streets and will probably be remembered with a mentality of negativity, even as he tried to change his ways toward the end of his life. Now that we’ve seen the human side of this person, is it as easy to see him as simply another statistic?

7. Neighbors

The next track opens with another head-banger, as Cole uses and almost Kendrick-like flow to explain his (or his character’s) relocation to a nicer part of town. However, he once again humanizes those usually vilified by the media, saying that he doesn’t necessarily want to be famous as much as he wants to give a voice to the person that has no way out but to sell drugs, and even the other people that have fallen victim to the streets.

“F*ck the fame and the fortune.

…well, maybe not the fortune.”

He also discusses the usual stigma attached to people in his position that have been made able to move to the more wealthy side of town, claiming that he lives where singers and entrepreneurs go, and that the people he lives around, with their racist mentalities, assume negative action on his part, but ironically, well...

“Okay the neighbors think I’m selling dope.

Hmm… (Don’t follow me).

Well, muthaf*cka, I am.”

8. Foldin Clothes

This track, sonically speaking, stands out the most in respect to the other songs on the album so far. While the other songs generally have a mellow, sleepy vibe to them, this one comes out hard, with a heavily distorted bass and electric guitar to produce an almost rock-sounding beat. Cole must’ve been listening to “Awaken, My Love.” Cole’s character goes on to explain how he wants to do the right thing, using the metaphor of “folding clothes” as an analogy to explain how he wants to serve his family and be present.

“This is a meditation for me.

I’m practicing being present; there’s nowhere I need to be/

Except right here with you,

Folding clothes…”

He also uses his current disposition of “softening up” for his family to explain his newfound recognition of the fact that people from the ‘hood are the best actors, in that they have to act “hard” in order to keep from being swallowed up by their environment. After years of that, they just learn to operate that way in every aspect of life.

9. She’s Mine Pt. 2

Once again, the mellow vibe returns as soft organ and keys play over the muffled sounds of a baby crying. The same chant from “She’s Mine Pt. 1” is sung as the narrator once again conveys a story of love, though this time in respect to the baby that has just been born. In contrast to a world that has rendered the main character mostly invisible, the baby, in her need for him, represents his true importance.

In his desire to create a better world for the child, the narrator also uses the verse to add in some subtle social commentary, speaking on the backwards consumer mentality of this country, as well as the financial irresponsibility of many black people, due to their history of not having enough money to know how to be fiscally responsible to begin with.

He imagines his future with this child, questioning if he’s even worthy of having such a gift, given all of the negative things he’s done. Much in contrast to the first song of the album, the narrator wants to live, if only for her. And in looking at her, he realizes that there must be a God.

10. 4 Your Eyez Only

Still channeling the persona of “James,” Cole raps a verse in which the narrator, who wants to go straight, explains how hard it is to become a law-abiding citizen and still make a living, given his legal record. He explains that while he’s trying his best, he understands that anything can go wrong, and that if something happens, to record his narrative in order for his daughter to hear his take on how the world is when she’s old enough to understand. Now it’s evident that “4 Your Eyez Only” is in respect to the daughter, whom is being addressed throughout the album by her father from beyond the grave. We just happen to be listening to a message that was intended for her. Cole is only the messenger.

Final Thoughts

There’s something compelling about the fact that J. Cole waited until the last verse of the whole album to rap from his perspective, especially given the subject matter. It can’t be known whether he did this on purpose, but J. Cole’s explanations of the trials and tribulations of living a life on the street, of the cycle of violence that bleeds into one’s own upbringing, of the economic causations of the cycle of violence, an almost direct result of the environments created by white supremacy and past (and present) oppression, and of the categorization and misrepresentation of people from that environment, he forced James, the personification of all of these factors, to become a human in the listeners’ eyes. While the media often portrays these people as thugs, antagonists, or simply statistics, Cole was able to paint the picture of a human being, who, however fallible, had made some mistakes for which he was seeking redemption, even as it came to little, too late. There was also something poetic in the fact that as such a popular rapper, people are more open to hearing Cole out than the real James (if he were still around), even though Cole is telling James’ story. Being that they grew up together, James represents Cole could have been, given different choices.

The chronological order of the story being told isn’t by coincidence either. Much like Kendrick Lamar’s “good kid m.A.A.d. city,” this album’s chronology is out of order, with James’ death occurring near the middle of the album, but with the remainder of the album still being told through his eyes. There are a few reasons for this. The first is to showcase his different mentalities throughout different periods of his life, with the album going through several “phases” in terms of the emotions that are presented. Also, James’ continued presence, even after the moment of his death, is used to secure his immortality (along with others like James), because as Cole put himself early into the album, “real n*ggas don’t die.”