The notion of the hero has long been a key hip-hop subplot. Rappers tend to paint themselves as flawless geniuses with bottomless bank accounts, award-winning genitals, and anything else that suggests everlasting bestness. In essence, these hyperbolic personas are built to demand attention and to deter aspiring MCs from stepping on the stage.

The culture that built this formula is a past generation but a lot of these standards still stand in slightly different incarnations. There is a school of thought that began shortly after the ‘96/’97 murders of 2Pac and The Notorious B.I.G. that suggests rap needs some sort of a saviour to recover from the tragedy of losing two of its brightest stars at the peaks of their careers. There’ve been numerous candidates but time and time again, they prove unworthy of their pre-exaltation. With his auspicious 2012 record, good kid, m.A.A.d city, Kendrick Lamar has grabbed some of these ideas and evolved them for a modern audience. The chronicle he’s put together for this narrative (apparently based on real life events) shares key parallels with Joseph Campbell’s monomyth, which declares that the hero’s journey is unified across all cultures, just with different details. good kid, m.A.A.d city explains not only why Kendrick Lamar thinks he’s the hero, it explains how he’s earned it.

The calling
“Kendrick have a dream!” – “Backseat Freestyle”

In relation to the album’s plotline, “Backseat Freestyle” (track three) is where the story starts. The preceding skit involves one of Kendrick’s friends inviting him to join a cypher in his car. This introduction states the desires and aspirations of the young, brash Kendrick (he wants money!). While it might be misdirected, this song gives a glimpse of the talent and potential of our hero. Hip-hop itself can also be viewed as a supernatural aid to the young hero’s journey; it’s what gives him his powers.

Alienation of family
“We’re trying to conquer the city with disobedience” – “The Art of Peer Pressure”

A quick glance at the liner notes hints that Kendrick’s parents play a major role in the album’s foundation. The record is scattered with voicemails from mom and dad, symbolizing Kendrick’s adolescent distance, not unlike his mother’s minivan, representing the understated influence his parents have on him and his music. While his mother isn’t with him, it’s her van that he drives to Sherane’s house. His father, in one voicemail, wants to know where his dominoes are, blaming Kendrick for misplacing them. This comical detail explains a key aspect of Kendrick’s upbringing. In a 2011 interview with AUX, describing why he was able to be a good kid growing up in a mad city, Kendrick said, “Sometimes, I felt like I was the only kid in Compton, probably the only kid in America, with a real active father in his life.” Though the ignorance of youth is causing him to alienate himself from them in this story, his loving parents are major factors in defining the artist he’s become.

Loss of innocence
“Halle Berry or hallelujah” – “Money Trees”

With his ambition misdirected, an impressionable Kendrick joins his friends in a series of immoral activities that he justifies by the happiness, albeit false, he gets from them. As much as he knows better, he chooses to go this route to fit in.

Temptation
“I hope you ain’t out there messing with them hoodrats out there” – “Sherane aka Master Splinter’s Daughter” (skit)

The album begins with the flash forward “Sherane aka Master Splinter’s Daughter,” detailing Kendrick meeting the temptress Sherane, and a description of the anticipating drive over to her house in his parents’ Dodge Caravan. The song is sandwiched between a pair of skits: the first, Kendrick praying, and the second, the first of his parents’ voicemails. The skits hint at a possible guilt for his urges—the urges that lead him to a part of town that he doesn’t belong in.

Betrayal and defeat
“I live inside the belly of the rough/ Compton, USA made me an angel on angel dust.” – “m.A.A.d City”

When Kendrick goes to see Sherane, he’s cut off, interrogated, and eventually assaulted by her cousin and his friends, mostly because he’s from another part of town. This is when Kendrick reflects on what a nightmare growing up in his hometown was. He feels like the evils of Compton have consumed him and there’s no way he’ll be able to escape them.

Descent into the abyss
“Pour up, drank / Head shot, drank / Sit down, drank / Stand up, drank / Pass out, drank” – “Swimming Pools (Drank)”

When K-Dot meets up with his friends after getting his ass kicked over at Sherane’s place, they turn to alcohol to cheer him up. The understated depression associated with the hit “Swimming Pools (Drank)” represents the lowest part of Kendrick’s journey. There’s a certain amount of ambivalence on the first half of the record that is the popular viewpoint of the majority of his hip-hop predecessors. But this time, Kendrick’s conscience kicks in. This is what makes Kendrick a special rapper. Unlike some other preacher-rapper types, Kendrick seems to personally get involved before he starts giving advice on something. The message on “Swimming Pools” isn’t “don’t drink,” it’s “I’ve done it before and I’m not sure if binge drinking is the best thing for my life.” The skit at the end of this track steps even further into the darkness as one of his friends is murdered during their drunken retaliation against Sherane’s cousin and his people.

Realization
“What would happen if I ain’t continued rapping and steady been distracted by money, drugs, and 4-5s” – “Sing About Me”

After the murder, K-Dot sobers up, literally and figuratively. On “Sing About Me” he puts himself in the shoes of a pair of tragic individuals from his neighbourhood. Kendrick faces his own fears of failure and death while confirming that his music is his attempt to escape this fate and eventually attain some form of immortality. He also shares that, through his trials as a young man growing up in Compton, he has the insight to not only speak for himself but also speak for the gangbangers and the prostitutes that don’t have a voice.

Rebirth and Return
“Now everybody serenade the new faith of King Kendrick Lamar” – “Compton”

Leading out of “I’m Dying of Thirst,” the skit involves the homies getting confronted by an elder on the street. In their conversation, she convinces them to pray with her to accept Jesus in their lives and become born-again Christians. While this might come off a bit evangelical, this experience (which he’s confirmed in interviews) is a representation of a rebirth for Kendrick. A recalibration and refocusing of priorities, elaborated on “Real.” This is the ultimate Kendrick Lamar, the one we hear today, reflective and wise but completely willing and able to spit that hot fire. When the VHS tape rewinds before “Compton”, it suggests a new beginning rather than an ending. The victory lap “Compton” features undeniable hometown hero Dr. Dre. This is where our hero Kendrick takes the baton from Dre as the new champion of this storied hip-hop city. To emphasize the aforementioned new beginning, the album ends with a flashback clip of Kendrick asking his mom if he could borrow her minivan as he would’ve at very start of this story. Here we go again.