Every work of art is, among other things, a systematic approach to the description and representation of reality. While this representation sometimes employs effects of alienation, it always constitutes an abstraction. Elements of the real shimmer through the symbolic form. Even in fictional works, there lies, beyond the fiction of reality, “the reality of the fiction.”1
A work of art that explicitly does both – depicting as well as unveiling reality through fiction and artistic style – is the subject of this chapter. Kendrick Lamar’s DAMN. received a Pulitzer Prize in 2018, with the Pulitzer committee praising its complexity. The manifold themes in the album have led to different interpretations by reviewers, some addressing Lamar’s artistic engagement with human sinfulness2 and religion3, others emphasize its engagement with the expectations toward Lamar as a black artist.4 As noted in one review, DAMN. is “filled with contradictions.”5 This ambiguity the critic alludes to is not an accident, brought about by sloppiness, but a conscious stylistic device used to further a larger project which is part of DAMN.
Kendrick Lamar’s album is an aesthetic genealogy, which scrutinizes his subjectivity, its preconditions and history. In this chapter, I will describe how DAMN.’s structure and content resemble the structure and content of critical genealogies and through which devices the album expresses Lamar’s subjectivity. I will emphasize a discussion of the song “DNA,” which, in the larger context of the album, serves as one junction that binds together its themes.
Genealogies are used both in the sciences and the humanities to identify the development of phenomena through their heritage. Biological genealogies aim at explaining the development of organisms through evolutionary processes. Historical genealogies explore the history of institutions and phenomena through their concrete origins. Genealogy as its’ own discipline traces an individual’s heritage, using historical documents, and drawing from (as well as sometimes expanding) pedigrees.
In the humanities and the social sciences, genealogies frequently take the form of descriptive or affirmative genealogies. They historically localize and contextualize ideas or institutions. Another well-known form is the critical genealogy. It follows the impetus to de-universalize or de-essentialize phenomena by pointing to the contingent historical circumstances of their emergence. One prominent example for critical genealogies is Nietzsche’s Genealogy of Morals in which the philosopher argues that the Christian morals of his day were not the product of the revelation of eternal truth, but rather are developed as the result of a “slave revolt in morals.” This slave revolt initiates a reevaluation of values that Nietzsche points to in order to explain the origin of Christian morality. In Nietzsche’s reading, this morality is used as a device employed by the weak to control the strong. By historically explaining the functionality of morality, Nietzsche questions the objective character of Christian values. For him, the specific history of morality thus gives us grounds for criticizing morality on a naturalistic basis. As French philosopher Michel Foucault points out, Nietzsche was not interested in tracing a definitive origin6, but rather in shining a light on the overlooked contingent circumstances of the phenomenon he researched. Foucault himself, drawing from Nietzsche, employed critical genealogies in his work as well.
While critical genealogies in the tradition of Nietzsche and Foucault are widely used in the social sciences and humanities, there is little consensus over their strict methodology and concrete scope: “Genealogy is a vague and general concept, and a theory of genealogy should recognize this generality by leaving room for debate about the themes it highlights.”7
However, according to German Philosopher Martin Saar, this vagueness is not a weakness of genealogical critique, but closely connected to its’ form:
Saar defines three components of every genealogical critique: Its’ theory of the subject, its’ analysis of power and the specific form of its’ account.9 According to Saar, critical genealogies aim at questioning forms of subjectivity and subject formation through a critical account of history and an analysis of power relations that emphasize historicity and contingency. With this, genealogies want to highlight the possibility of alternative ways of subject formation. While Kendrick Lamar is an artist and not a Foucauldian philosopher, I claim, that what his album DAMN. offers is a genealogical work both in its form and in its accomplishment. Through its aesthetic expression of Lamar’s observations and experiences, DAMN. offers insights on an intellectual as well as on a sensual level. The composition of the individual tracks on DAMN., as well as of the structure and assembly of the album as a composition, resemble the formal structure of genealogical works in philosophy and the social sciences. The individual tracks, much like book chapters, investigate the origin and development of specific phenomena that occupy Lamar’s mind and lead to his pessimistic outlook. They are connected and woven into the larger concept of the album through samples, lyrical nods and references. Like Nietzsche’s Genealogy of Morals, DAMN. does not consist of aphorisms, but of systematically ordered treatises.
Just as style and form of expression are an integral part of genealogical methodology in philosophical works, the structure of DAMN. is integral to what the album sets out to do. In Lamar’s words:
The album is structured as a narrative that stays intact, regardless of whether the tracks are played from the beginning to the end, or vice versa. This structural ambiguity was, as pointed out by Lamar, a conscious decision during the recording of DAMN. and was furthered in the album’s special edition, where the tracks are put in reverse order. Foregoing a linear structure in favor of a stronger emphasis on the duality that Lamar recognizes in his subjectivity is a stylistic device that makes a substantial point. The composition of the artwork breaks up a hierarchical structure and thus de-essentializes the process of Lamar’s subject formation. As in critical genealogies, the stylistic form of the narrative contributes to the inquiry.
In its accomplishment, DAMN. mirrors philosophical genealogies, because it analyzes Lamar’s traits and character through their heritage. Through telling about his experiences and impressions on DAMN., Lamar accomplishes his stated goal: “Exposing who I really am.” To better understand how Lamar achieves this, it is necessary to look at the connection of the tracks, and of course, to take a closer look at the individual songs.
On “FEAR.,” for example, Lamar describes his fears at ages 7, 17, and 27, respectively. At age 7, he was afraid of his mother, who threatened to beat him in case he did not abide by her rules. The repeated use of the line “I beat your ass,” when Lamar recites his mother, immediately creates a threatening scenario that makes the fears of her threats evoked in the young Lamar all the more understandable. The verse ends with the words “you gon’ fear me if you don’t fear no one else.” Yet this verse is not designed to make the rapper’s mother look like a villain. It becomes clear, that disciplining her son through fear is a way for Lamar’s mother to subjectivize objectively bleak circumstances. Having to deal with government housing and social workers spying on families, trying to find ways to cut their welfare, as mentioned in the verse, it is essential for her, to make sure Lamar tells nobody that his dad is living with them. The threats of violence against her son, aiming to induce fear, seem very much driven by her own fears. What is more, Lamar’s mother is under the pressure to save her child from violence. Thus, the effort to confine and restrict curiosity through fear can be interpreted as a parenting strategy to keep young Kendrick Lamar out of harm’s way.
In the second verse, Lamar employs the same pattern of repetition, starting his lines with the words “I’ll prolly die” and then listing several ways he might be killed. He expresses his 17-year-old self’s worries about being killed by the police, gang members who mistake him for the member of a rival gang, being killed when getting robbed, or while trying to deescalate a fight. The verse ends with “I’ll prolly die cause that’s what you do, when you’re seventeen, all worries in a hurry, I wish I controlled things.” With the threat of death looming over the artist’s head at all times, his everyday life is dominated by fear, a fear that is not an expression of paranoia, but a reaction to Lamar’s experiences.11
In the third verse of the song, Lamar describes his fear at 27 of losing all his money and having to move back to government housing. This fear, he notes, leads him to shy away from expenses and never feeling safe financially despite his success. Lamar does not trust his success, fearing that god is joking with him and that he will be worse off than at the beginning. Another fear at 27 is his fear of being judged. He raps, that his fears have “accumulated ten times over throughout the years.”
In the fourth verse, Lamar discusses his current fears, which include losing his creativity, loyalty, love, humility, and his fear of weakness. This last verse also serves as a site of connection to the album and to the other songs on it. It is fear that guides the “troublesome heart” the artist raps about on “DNA.” And it is fear of the evil inside his DNA, which he laments on “FEAR.” Through weaving in the titles of the other songs, “DNA.,” “HUMBLE.,” “PRIDE.,” “LOVE.,” “GOD.,” and by mentioning his hope that these feelings disperse through the album’s songs, he locates “FEAR.” within his work. In the last line of this verse, “Wondering if I am living through fear or living through rap,” he also locates fear within his work, presenting it as a characteristic on par with his creative expression. “FEAR.” is framed by the voicemail from Carl Duckworth, in which Duckworth talks about a curse that, according to Hebrew Israelite Theology, is cast upon Black people, Hispanics and Native Americans as a punishment for turning away from God’s commandments and will be upon them until they return to these commandments. This curse is for Duckworth an explanation for the hardships these groups endure. Including the sample by Carl Duckworth suggests, that Kendrick Lamar’s fear is also influenced by this curse, which he references throughout the album. When describing his fears and their development over time, Lamar does not try to trace a definitive origin, but describes the environments in which his fears emerged and grew. Through this contextualization, and through highlighting the pathways of his accumulated fears, he describes the role of fear in the formation of his subjectivity. This makes “FEAR.” a smaller genealogy within the larger genealogical project, which is DAMN. The insights the song offers are not only expressed in the text; they are also enhanced through the stylistic devices used.
Another song that highlights contingency in Kendrick Lamar’s personal history is “DUCKWORTH.” The song references an instance, where the curse mentioned by Lamar’s cousin is broken, which, however, does not lead to lasting salvation. It tells the story of how his father, then an employee at KFC, crossed paths with Lamar’s label boss, Anthony Tiffith, then a gangster. Lamar’s father, Ducky, feared that Tiffith wanted to rob the place (which Tiffith indeed planned, as we learn in the song) and tried to get on his good side by adding free extras to Tiffith’s order. Tiffith decides not to rob the KFC, which is a crucial decision influencing his own life, the life of Ducky and the life of Kendrick Lamar. Had Tiffith committed the robbery, Lamar contemplates, his father might have died, he might have grown up without a father and died in a gun fight and Tiffith might have gone to jail instead of founding Top Dawg Entertainment, the record label Lamar is signed on. However, through his decision, Tiffith had broken the curse, as Lamar points out, and changed their destinies. Mentioning the curse and how Tiffith overcame it through his decision provides a deeper understanding of the curse itself. It is not, how we already learn through Carl Duckworth’s voice message on “FEAR,” inevitable, but something that can be lifted by turning back to God’s commandments. The last line of “DUCKWORTH.” is the first line of “BLOOD.,” the album’s first song: “So I was taking a walk the other day.” The story that “BLOOD.” tells ends in Lamar being shot. The repetition of lines serves as a reminder that, after escaping this fate, as told in “DUCKWORTH.,” violent death never ceased being a possibility. Regardless of any effort.
Highlighting the contingency of his own becoming, in “DUCKWORTH.,” Lamar asks, “Whoever thought the greatest rapper would be from coincidence?” Emphasizing coincidence and personal decisions, Lamar does not merely point to personal agency and responsibility. He shines a light on the social context that amplifies the negative effects individual decisions can have. This is not only confined to crimes: If Lamar as a child would have said a wrong word to a social worker, his mother would have lost the means necessary to feed them both. If, as a 17-year old, he tried to break up a fight, he could have died. As an adult, his fear of losing his money is still shaping his behavior. It is through the medium of his personal story, that Kendrick Lamar’s art furthers the understanding of structural conditions. Many of his individual experiences and fears reflect those of members of poor, black, and brown communities in the United States: fear of the police and gang violence, a constant material insecurity and the possibility that any coincidence can ruin ones’ existence. Structural racism and material inequality have here created a situation in which contingent factors become crucial.
Throughout DAMN., Lamar offers insight into broader social phenomena through personal stories. These individual stories he tells are fragments of a larger narrative. Songs like “FEAR.” and “DNA.” act as a junction that combines and synthesizes the threads of this narrative. In “FEAR.,” Lamar identifies fear as the hermeneutical key to the understanding of his work and personality. In “DNA.,” he highlights the ambiguity in his character, assessing his strengths and weaknesses. It is this track that Lamar mentions specifically in connection with the aim of exposing who he really is. Indeed, DNA is of great importance for the genealogical project of the album, as it highlights all the traits that Lamar epitomizes as well as the ambiguity within those traits.
Through his song “DNA.,” the music video for which was released in April 2017, Kendrick Lamar tackles the subject of biological, historical, and cultural heritage. The artist offers an account of the open, as well as the latent qualities and traits that shape his character. In the first part of the song, Lamar describes the formative influences on his own identity formation – loyalty, royalty, and realness, as well as, evil and a troublesome heart. This naming is employed by, and rhetorically filtered through, genetics, as he describes these significant attributes as being “in his DNA,” and part of his “pedigree.” Lamar also introduces direct juxtapositions of opposing characteristics like “war and peace,” “pain and joy,” and “power, poison.” Aiming at opponents, Lamar speculates that they have inherited a tendency toward denunciation. He also muses that they are likely descendants of the jellyfish, as they, too, lack a spine.
At first glance, “DNA.” seems in line with the conventional wisdom that some qualities are simply inborn, such as the oft-repeated reference to certain things being ‘natural.’ In this way, some people might be thought to possess “natural talents” for certain subjects, or proclaim, that specific skills are “in their blood.” One could argue, that Lamar’s use of genetic vocabulary in the song follows this widespread colloquial use of DNA as a proxy for unalterable character traits. And the positive affirmation of his heritage could simply be an expression of self-confidence and self-consciousness. For one, the positive affirmation of seemingly inborn character traits negates the narrative of black genetic inferiority. Lamar describes universally desired traits he claims to possess, and, more than that, he points to these traits as being part of his DNA. In a common conception, such an inscription of traits into the innermost parts of one’s biology supposes that said traits are not mutable, or at least not as mutable, to the extent that traits acquired through upbringing or social circumstance would be. The unspoken assumption, that biological influences, following the laws of nature, possess higher import and stasis than the malleable, social influences informs much of the everyday understanding of genetics and could very well guide one possible reading of this song.
One indicator for the general, social prevalence of such an understanding of DNA as a determining factor is, that it has played a large role in the growing popularity of DNA-analysis products – and particularly their marketing. This applies to products involving forensic DNA-testing (including virtual police sketches) as well as personality tests. DNA-testing is commercially used to determine parenthood, match flatmates or lovers based on genetic traits and to provide information used for nutrition and workout routines for soccer-players. While some forms of genetic analysis can point to a solid basis for their approach (e.g., parenthood testing), others are racially biased and inaccurate like virtual police sketches12 or ‘molecular photo-fitting.’13 Others again are deeply superstitious (like the service offering to pair you with a genetically compatible roommate). Given, how many personal qualities and personality traits are projected into human genes, it appears that genetic testing has occupied the place that Theodor W. Adorno ascribed to horoscopes in his text Stars Down to Earth – an expression of irrational superstition that nonetheless integrates perfectly into the seemingly empiricist, rational reality of contemporary capitalism. While the process of genetic testing is a rather normal scientific procedure (e.g., in the case of ancestry testing, individual genetic information is compared to larger samples and correlations are measured), the significance and meaning ascribed to the results leaves the realm of scientific scrutiny. Breaking down the results of genetic ancestry tests into percentages of, e.g., ethnicities, is not only inaccurate, because the sample size for whole parts of the world is insufficiently big, or because the ethnic categories seem arbitrary (even though, both these points play an important role). Translating the culturally laden idea of ethnical makeup into biologically grounded numbers means ascribing genes with cultural value, a process akin to ascribing meaning to stellar constellations and zodiac signs. In both cases, unaffiliated phenomena are connected. And, in both cases, the predictions are so vague, that any reader can create around them a meaning that structures and seemingly explains his everyday experience. As Adorno concludes in his study:
However, as Adorno continues on the same page, astrology is not merely an explanation, it offers more:
Given that the surface, onto which dependency is projected, is secondary and given, that the ideological function of said surface, justifying social conditions, is primary, one can see, how ascribing a wide variety of values and social functions to genes can function as a structural equivalent to Adorno’s analysis of astrology as an explanatory model.
Indeed, in 2013 some geneticists went as far as to describe one branch of DNA-analysis as “genetic astrology.”16 In a BBC article published on the BBC’s homepage concerning the aforementioned genetic ancestry testing, one scientist suggests “the genetic ancestry business uses a phenomenon well-known in other areas such as horoscopes, where general information is interpreted as being more personal than it really is.”17
And yet, services like “Ancestry.com” or “23andMe,” which offer the analysis of genetic samples, aiming at tracing the genetic and ethnic makeup of an individual, have been commercially successful. The services use genetic information on population groups and offer an assessment to which percentage a persons’ DNA consists of chromosomes associated with distinct populations.
The results of the tests, however methodologically flawed and questionable they may be18, fulfill an important function: They offer a genetic genealogy – an origin story. Given that Lamar lives in a society where DNA is laden with cultural meaning, it would not be far-fetched to assume that he shares the widespread notions of this meaning in his song. It could easily be argued that Lamar artistically employs DNA in the same way users of ancestry tests do: as a source that explains a whole host of influences and personal history.
However, Lamar’s song “DNA.” is more nuanced and layered and does not lend itself to such an easy interpretation. It is precisely through using the language of genetics that Lamar creates these layers. While the traits Lamar names as part of his DNA are certainly described by him as essential, they are nonetheless not deterministic. With the naming of diametrically opposed traits as part of his DNA, Lamar creates a constant ambiguity: war and peace, power and poison, pain and joy, are all part of his DNA, no trait rules supreme. Thus, instead of determining behavior, these and other traits mentioned in the song are mere potentialities, given, that traits always express themselves in an interplay with the organisms’ environment. To give one example, whether Lamar feels pain or joy, both characteristics he identifies as part of his DNA, is dependent on the situation and the circumstances he is under. This ambiguity is consistent with a pattern in Kendrick Lamar’s self-presentation on DAMN. and in his work in general. While Lamar tells others as well as himself to be humble, he also refers to himself as “the greatest rapper” in “DUCKWORTH.” It is also at the beginning of “DUCKWORTH.,” where, through a sample, Lamar declares “it was always me versus the world, until I found it’s me vs me.”
Some traits that Lamar mentions are referring not to individual characteristics but point to broader historical narratives. For example, the mention of royalty likely points to historical examples of black royalty, echoing the mention of Ethiopian royalty on “i” on Lamar’s 2015 album To Pimp a Butterfly. Royalty could also refer to Black Hebrew theology as shared by the artist’s cousin. Given that Lamar refers to himself as an Israelite on “YAH.,” pointing out the historical connection to biblical Hebrew Kings suggests itself. With this, he also refers to the subject of an ongoing political controversy. The question of the racial makeup of Egyptian royalty, for example, has not only been the subject of historic and later genetic research, it was also a topic of discussion at the beginnings of scientific racism. In this context, nineteenth-century anthropologists like Georges Cuvier and Samuel George Morton argued that Egyptians are to be classified as a subset of the Caucasian race. This classification was not only an expression of their scientific views, but it was also an argument with important political, ideological, and economic implications. In the first half of the nineteenth century, when their texts were published, scientific methods and anthropological theories were used to justify slavery. In order to achieve this, anthropologists presented a historical narrative that paralleled modern and ancient slavery aiming at the naturalization of the oppression of black people. One example for this is the race theorists George Gliddon and Josiah C. Nott, both students of Morton, who employed Morton’s writing:
In this context, the pointing to black royalty throughout history is not only a claim over historic facts, it is also a narrative that counters an argument used to justify racism and slavery. In the United States, the sheer notion of black royalty still sparks outrage and mockery, as exemplified by a tweet by conservative pundit Ben Shapiro, who felt compelled to point out: “Wakanda does not exist,”20 following the positive reception of Marvel superhero movie Black Panther. By claiming a ‘royal’ heritage, Lamar does not necessarily claim direct genetical descendance from kings and queens, rather, he refers to an empowering narrative.
Significant parts of the song “DNA.” are dedicated to describing Lamar’s often tragic personal experiences. He does so before mentioning his “soldier’s DNA,” leaving it open to interpretation, whether the former contributed to the latter, or the latter gave Lamar the resilience to cope with the former. In conjunction with Lamar’s personal experiences, DNA becomes a metaphor for influences on his character in general, be they genetic or social. Yet another layer of meaning becomes apparent when the music video is included into the interpretation of the song. In the video, actor Don Cheadle is prepared to interrogate Lamar, starting it off with the threatening and deterministic claim saying to the rapper, “you know what DNA stands for? Dead Nigga Association.” This line, menacingly uttered by the government official Cheadle plays, points to the persistence of racism in the United States. While contemporary racism in the United States and throughout the West has mostly adapted to cultural arguments, the underlying biological assumptions almost cyclically re-surface. When culture is barely more than a cover for an underlying biological determinist reasoning, it can be discarded for its latent message whenever it is economically and politically opportune. Be it the opposition to policies like Affirmative Action or the affirmation of white identity as a political platform, DNA more generally and black DNA in particular repeatedly become a political battleground. Thus, Lamar’s proud identification through DNA is a response against the racist claims of black genetic inferiority. In this vein, “DNA.” also addresses Fox News host Geraldo Rivera, whose statement “this is why I say that hip-hop has done more damage to young African Americans than racism in recent years.” Lamar is sampling. With this claim, Rivera argues in line with a cultural racism that shifts the blame for the problems of black communities from racism to black culture. Consequences of power relations and structures in society at large through such rhetoric then become consequences of cultural peculiarities or individual choice. The sound bite is taken from a discussion between Rivera and other Fox News hosts on the topic of Lamar’s performance of his song “Alright” at the BET Awards. Lamar uses samples from this Fox News segment throughout the album and has already in 2015 asked in an interview: “How can you take a song that’s about hope and turn it into hatred?”21 On “DNA.,” Lamar responds through an affirmation of his self and raps, aimed at Rivera et al. “You motherfuckers can’t tell me nothing/I’d rather die than listen to you/My DNA not for imitation/Your DNA an abomination.” Symbolically, an empowered affirmation of his DNA is also represented in Lamar overpowering and possessing Cheadle’s character in the “DNA.” music video. However, Lamar sets out to do way more than to merely counter the stereotypes peddled by scientific racism. He presents via “DNA.” a description of himself that withstands any attempt of a simplifying explanation through its ambiguity.
The primary information transported in “DNA.” within the scope of DAMN.’s larger context is not the presentation of a clear foundation for Lamar’s character, or even an identification of factors which shape this behavior, but the expression of an inner tension of the artist in the face of the curse he sees looming. This tension in “DNA.” ’s connotation is even expressed through the differences between the album track and the video: the track on the album closes with the line “Sex, money, murder, our DNA,” while the last line in the video is “Ain’t no ho inside my DNA.” The first being the pessimistic predicament, the second being a rhetorical display of power. His worries, expressed on “FEAR.,” that the wickedness in his DNA – pars pro toto for his mistakes and weaknesses – will prevent him from seeing god’s light stand in contrast to the positive affirmation of his traits and pedigree: the overarching insecurity remains. The constant ambiguity, which Lamar creates in his self-description, coupled with the emphasis on contingency throughout the album serves as a mechanism to de-essentialize the individual traits defining him. It is not in spite of, but through this very mechanism, that he tells us who he really is. Among other things, DAMN. is an aesthetic genealogy of Kendrick Lamar. In this context, Lamar uses “DNA.” precisely in the opposite way bio-determinists use DNA: not as a firm foundation but as a conflictive, volatile matter.