J. Cole - The Meaning of Greatness
In a career spanning 19 years, beginning with a dollar and a dream, J. Cole came up, warmed up, got sidelined, ascended, and got sidelined again. Could we see his final ascent following the release of his final album, The Fall Off?
The Fall Off has long been in the works, indeed it was first referenced in his music on KOD’s last track ‘1985’, the title of which indicated it would be the intro for The Fall Off. It is now eight years on from that album, and even longer that Cole began working on the project, and today, here we are:
“For the past 10 years, this album has been hand crafted with one intention: a personal challenge to myself to create my best work. To do on my last what I was unable to do on my first. I had no way of knowing how much time, focus and energy it would eventually take to achieve this, but despite the countless challenges along the way, I know in my heart I would one day get to the finish line. I owed it first and foremost to myself. And secondly, I owed it to hip hop” – J.Cole
One of Cole’s most consistent lyrical tropes is about being ‘ahead of his time’, or forward thinking beyond a future which the listener is yet to become aware of, so it’s only fitting that the opening single for his final album, went through his memories backwards but linked these in a forward-looking chronology. No doubt, he’s likely thinking of a future that we will now never know as an audience, so it is up to us to analyse what has been.
I first came across J. Cole around the time Friday Night Lights dropped in 2010. The first song of his that truly enchanted me was the perfectly foreshadowing named ‘Before I’m Gone’, the chorus of which interpolates the passionate chorus of the legendary Tupac’s ‘Hail Mary’ and now, here we are on the last album of a formative career, Cole, as always looking to attain legend status.
This is the first time I’ve ever been struck, or truly saddened, by any artist ‘retirement’. Whether this album will truly prove to be his last is another thing entirely, but this moment is, without question, a hiatus. Analysing J Cole’s career is somewhat confusing. He has broadly reached what almost any other artist would consider the ultimate heights of hip-hop stardom, however he is almost always cast as second place, to someone, or something; never quite crowned as the king, but always part of conversation.
As a producer, he’s created beautiful songs for many greats; Kendrick Lamar, Mac Miller, Pusha T, and labelmate J.I.D have all created powerful writing in harmony with his instrumentals. And yet, despite this, Cole is rarely mentioned alongside other great producer-rappers like Tyler, The Creator. This may be in part to Cole’s greatest strength, and some may say weakness: his easygoing approach to creating, which is not particularly flamboyant, and is largely egoless.
As a storyteller, Cole has crafted stunning, intelligent stories that rival any of his contemporaries, such as ‘Lost ones’ – detailing the argument over a potential abortion between girlfriend and boyfriend, reflecting his well-honed awareness and empathy as a storyteller. His most well-regarded album 2014 Forest Hills Drive, connects seamlessly as a musical memoir for his born day ‘January 28th’ to finding himself in adolescence, to competing against his contemporaries, to his happiest realisation, learning to ‘Love Yourz’. And yet, when compared next to Kendrick Lamar’s mammoth concepts – particularly ‘To Pimp a Butterfly’, considered by some to be the greatest hip hop album of all time, Cole is regularly considered the weaker writer, and at times, mocked for it. Kendrick becomes the Saviour, Cole becomes the narrator.
As a singer, Cole has a passionate bassy voice with a mellifluous tone, sometimes limited ability to hit the high notes, but leans into this for an intense heartfelt feeling as a listener, most notably on his track ‘be free’; there are few songs out there that encapsulate what freedom is to me more than that track. And yet, his voice rarely dominates a particular track, and it does bring chart toppers with it in the same way Drake does within the hip-hop realm. However, as a singer, he is uncompromising, powerful and emotional.
As a label head: Dreamville has proved influential, and has incredible signees, reflecting Cole’s own values: J.I.D, possibly the most lyrically gifted architect of the current generation of hip-hop, the soulfulness of Ari Lennox, as well as Cozz and Omen remaining criminally underrated; never overselling themselves. And yet, when compared to LA label Top Dawg Entertainment with a behemoth roster including Kendrick Lamar, SZA and Schoolboy Q, Dreamville’s influence does not deliver the same cultural impact; however, it does impact many lives and emotions which connect to it.
Upon the curtain closing, it is safe to say Cole excels in so many lanes, but does not truly lead as the number one in any, but is among the best in all of them. I suppose the audience’s obsession, with the hip-hop artists who must be the very best, the ultimate leader, the number one at any cost, makes a lot of sense. One wants to know what the pinnacle looks like, but so many perspectives are missing from the peak, so many emotional connections. Cole connects with feet on a lower part of the mountain, but connect he does, at one with the foundations of hip-hop. In this era of extremity and loud moments, Cole has been a sustaining force of hip-hop and its listeners. Cole is happy to be merely great. And great he is.