For The Dead Homies — a critical analysis of Kendrick Lamar’s “Alright” music video
The dark and ominous sight of the Oakland-Bay bridge in the distance, shrouded by dark clouds and the city skyline is beautiful yet horrifying. Something about the deep contrast in the frame is rather discomfiting and, perhaps, speaks to the meaning of the shot itself, such that it delineates the contrast between the two endpoints of the bridge — San Francisco and Oakland.
In this music video, Lamar uses the establishing shot of the Oakland-Bay bridge as a framework for the subsequent visuals — entirely in monochrome, to contrast “black” and “white” — and messages; he also uses the establishing shot as a microcosm for the American society as we explore the meaning of what it is to be black in America — contextualized by Lamar’s narrative — and how he copes with his reality, amidst his depression and angst.
For approximately the next minute-and-a-half, images of an apocalyptic Oakland are presented to the viewer in a fashion that would suggest the end is near — a belief that Kendrick Lamar subscribes to entirely. Among these images, a shot of three people standing atop a police vehicle in front of the Oakland-Bay Bridge (perhaps a tribute to NWA and “fuck the police”), with a young boy — whose facial features resemble Trayvon Martin’s, but are not completely visible due to his hood — mouthing the word “alright” in the foreground.
The following scene abruptly cuts from the slow, ethereal nature of the shots that preceded it with a quicker series of shots with a more sporadic and chaotic mood. This is the apocalypse, or what might even be Kendrick Lamar’s take on the future for America — a brutal, dystopian reality in which some people are consumed by their vices and cause chaos while others must fear for their lives…within the black community, that is.
The final scene of the “introduction” of the music video signifies the ongoing police brutality against the black community as a black man is slammed against what appears to be the ground, but is later revealed to be a wall as he is manhandled by an aggressive white police officer. Before he can put the handcuffs on him, the man makes a run for it. The officer immediately pulls out his gun and mouths the word “freeze” just seconds before pulling the trigger.
These events occur as Lamar narrates:
“While my loved ones was fighting a continuous war back in the city…I was entering a new one — a war that was based on apartheid and discrimination.”
Before we can see what happened after the cop pulled the trigger, the video cuts to a shot of a lamp post, with a wide and unmoving glimpse of the city in the background, similar to the opening shot of the bridge at the beginning of the video.
It is worth noting that the choice to shoot the entire introduction in Oakland holds great significance. Historically, Oakland is a location recognized for its resistance and oppression; it is the birthplace of the Black Panther Party, but also holds an extensive history of police brutality — the most fitting location for a video with this theme. According to Rap, Race, and Politics by Clarence Lusane,
“…black music has been shaped by the material conditions of black life. Contextually, today’s black youth culture flows out of the changes that affected the political economy of US capitalism over the last two decades.”
Rap/Hip-Hop is black music — shaped by the conditions of the black experience in America. It is a form of societal protest and rebellion against it, catalyzed by the hyperawareness that the artist has of their vulnerability and marginality in post-industrial America.
Lamar uses the medium to criticize the status quo, empower black people, and to “influence change among young people”. He does just that as the next scene transitions in with the core members of Top Dawg Entertainment (TDE) — Kendrick Lamar, Schoolboy Q, Ab-Soul, and Jay Rock — bouncing to the rhythm of the song in a car (a tribute to Busta Rhymes’ “Woo Hah!!”) which is soon revealed to be carried by four police officers (read: litter slaves).
This is a clear protest to police brutality against black people in America, such that oppressors have become the servants to the oppressed.
Another aspect of the rap/hip-hop genre is its deep-seated homosociality and “brotherly love”. This is juxtaposed with frequent misogyny, hyper-masculinity, and violence often found in gangster rap, specifically, but this dichotomy also exists in this moment of Lamar’s video. He exclaims:
“On my momma, nigga — I’ma be the greatest to ever do this shit…on my momma, though, like…on the dead homies”
…just before the instrumental begins and he raps:
“Tell me who the bitch nigga hatin’ on me. Jumpin’ on my dick, but this dick ain’t free. To Pimp A Butterfly — another classic CD. Ghetto lullaby for everyone that emcee (sounds of gun shots). Nigga, now R.I.P., my diligence is only meant to write your eulogy.”
Kendrick pushes his masculinity forward as he proclaims he is the greatest rapper ever. He swears to this on his mother and the “dead homies” — most likely a tribute to his deceased comrades. In his rap, he suggests that his newest project, To Pimp A Butterfly, is a “ghetto lullaby” — that is, a death sentence — to everyone that emcees.
As Lamar raps this lyric, fellow TDE member Jay Rock “pours one” out of the backseat window — this is symbolic of respect for a fallen friend. It is perhaps noteworthy to mention that Lamar includes everyone that emcees in this line, seemingly including himself.
The song “Alright” finally begins around the 2:40 mark in the video — this is by design. The message of the song and the visuals presented during it are a reaction to the events in the beginning scenes of the video up to this point.
Throughout the video, Lamar’s feet rarely touch the ground — for most of it, he is flying over the streets like a guardian angel. However, this is not to signify that Lamar is above his friends, he is simply keeping watch. In fact, when Lamar is in shot with his friends, he is among the crowd. The only time he is ever above them physically, he is hanging upside down, around the 4:12 mark in the video — an allusion to the titular butterfly’s metamorphosis.
By the end of the video, Lamar stands atop the same lamp post scene earlier in the video. As a police car pulls up, Kendrick continues to dance on the lamp post, oblivious of his situation. Meanwhile, the police officer exits the vehicle with a heavy rifle in hand, however, sets it aside and uses his two fingers to “shoot” Kendrick from atop the light post. This, perhaps, signifies that murder by weapon isn’t the only way police officers are killing black people.
The message of the video denotes that everything will be alright despite the hardships and injustices that Kendrick — and, in this case, black people — struggle with as Americans due to institutionalized racism and prejudice, even in the face of protest.
This music video is a form of protest itself, however, it was still confronted with unnecessary criticism and censure by the likes of Fox News’ Geraldo Rivera, who made the inane claim that Kendrick Lamar “has done more damage to young African-Americans than racism”.
By default, mainstream media perceives rap music as violent and deviant which, as a consequence, diminishes cultural value and derails the message of the artist.
Clearly, Lamar’s “Alright” music video is no exception.
Lusane, C. (1993). “Rap, Race, and Politics”. Race & Class, 35, Pg. 1, 8.
