Fighter: J. Cole
Trainer (Gym): Mark Pitts (Dreamville, Roc Nation, Columbia)
Cut Men: J. Cole, !llmind, Phonix Beats, Vinylz, Willie B, Pop Wansel, Ron Gilmore, Jproof, Nick Paradise, Dre Charles, Cardiak, CritaCal
Weight Class: Rap Superstar, Lyrical Heavyweight
Notable Fire: January 28th, No Role Modelz, Intro
Notable Trash: None
Tale of the Tape: How do you know you’ve reached “the next level”?
In hip-hop, there’s many ways gauge the plateau a rapper has attained. Radio spins is one way; record sales/app steams/iTunes purchases is another. Peer recognition, awards/accolades are others, and these days, just releasing three albums on a major means you’ve had quite the successful tenure as an emcee.
By just about any measure, J. Cole has reached “the next level”. It’s time he be judged as such.
Cole even dropped his latest project, 2014 Forest Hill Dr. Drive, with just two weeks notice with no promotion, lead singles or marketing— a bold move for an artist who was undoubtedly popular, but not necessarily of A-list stature (Cole even refers to himself as a “B-list celebrity” on the album). The bold move paid immediate dividends for the 30-year-old, who not only set Spotify records, but also notched the third #1 album of his career (the second to debut at #1).
Interestingly, the success of Cole World: The Sideline Story and Born Sinner set the stage for sky high expectations for FHD, yet the lack of build-up, or even as much as a single, left fans in the dark about what type of album to expect. All we knew was the title was the address for a home he purchased and the cover art showed an afro’ed Cole sitting atop (ostensibly) said home. While Cole World depicted a struggling artist yearning for his breakthrough and Born Sinner unveiled a man grappling with fame and his commitment to women, Forest Hill Drive illustrates Cole’s quest for freedom and fulfillment.
Sidebar: Fun fact: Googling “2014 Forrest Hill Drive” actually takes you to that address via Google Maps. And if you click on the map, you can see the street view of the home with a dude walking across the front who may or may not be J. Cole himself.
The record beings with J. Cole singing — scratchy voice in full effect — over a piano melody. “Do you wanna, do you wanna be…happy? Do you wanna, do you wanna be…free?” These lyrics, while effortless, summarize the emotion of this album. Trapped between the spectrum of small-town kid and stardom, Cole encapsulates the dichotomy of being atop his field, while reaching back to his adolescence and again attempting to mend his unresolved feelings with women he repeatedly addressed on his last project.
The gift and the curse (word to Jermaine’s mentor): Cole’s vulnerability is front and center on this LP. Songs like “’03 Adolescence”, “Wet Dreamz”, “No Role Modelz” and “Hello” show Cole’s willingness to bare his true feelings and emotions regarding love, sex and romance (or lack thereof). However, only “No Role Modelz” carries a noticeably above average melody, making it difficult for long-time Cole fans to enjoy the recycled subject matter.
Sidebar: Vulnerability is imperative for any successful artist. Therefore, Cole’s is not taken for granted. It actually puts the objective listener in a tough spot of gauging a person’s work based them expressing what’s truly in their heart. Finding a happy medium is still a necessity to avoid Tim Duncan comparisons.
Conversely, Cole uses FHD to firmly state his opinion on various debates within hip-hop, most notably, claiming what he believes is his rightful place as the genre’s forefront. “January 28th”, one of the album’s flagship tracks, shows a boastful J. Cole not mincing words: “You niggas might be L or you might be Kane/ Or you might be Slick Rick, with 19 chains/ Or you might be Drizzy Drake or Kendrick Lamar/ But check your birth date nigga, you ain’t the God/ Nah you ain’t the God/ Nigga, Cole the God”. This is uncharted territory for the emcee with humble beginnings from Fayetteville, NC. The same feelings are conveyed on “Fire Squad”, as Cole remarked, “Ain’t a way around it no more, I am the greatest/ A lotta niggas sat on the throne, I am the latest/ I am the bravest, go toe to toe with the giants/ I ain’t afraid of you niggas, I’ll end up fading you niggas”.
J. Cole is a convoluted individual and his music reflects that. While attempting to get back to the basics, Cole may have actually sparked more questions than provided answers with 2014 Forest Hill Drive than even he may realize.
Cole was in these streets with protestors after the Eric Garner non-indictment announcement.
Fight Night: Winner By Split Decision
In a recent interview with Complex Magazine, Cole stated, “It’s crazy that I chose to record it in Hollywood because it’s such a ‘fuck Hollywood’ album. Being out there maybe contributed to [me thinking], ‘I’m bugging. There’s some shit that’s way more important than how many albums I sell and if I’m the best.’” In spite of this, Jermaine still felt the need to take jabs at his contemporaries like Drake and Kendrick. Furthermore, while throwing shots at basically everyone on “Fire Squad“, he still couldn’t resist the temptation of addressing relationship issues with women on its chorus.
Sidebar: This was a statement song, Cole! C’mon man! Leave the soft stuff for another record! And he still clearly has some issue with people sharing files of his work, so it’s hard to buy into the notion he’s above caring about record sales at least on some level.
Having said that, and understanding he could’ve selected a better beat to make a statement with, Cole did author up this gem on “Fire Squad”: “You see how I maneuver this game, I ain’t stupid/ I recognize that life is a dream, and I dream lucid.” In other words, Cole astutely recognizes he has the ability to control his future— this is possibly the realest line on the album.
Cole’s “fuck Hollywood” mentality highlights a frustration with his personal correlation of success and happiness, thus serving as the impetus for him “going back home” on this project. Given Kevin Durant’s recent lashing out against the media, perhaps he’s more KD than Tim Duncan these days— after all, he did compare himself to Durant on this record.
In the future, Cole must decide what type of artist he wishes to be. Does he fit more into the “easy listening hip-hop” category that he seems to have mastered with tracks like “Love Yourz”, “Apparently” and “St. Tropez”? Or does he wish to come with the aggression displayed on “January 28th” to which traditional hip-hop heads are accustomed? Is he up to the tall task of carrying the burden of the socially-conscience lyricist that ALSO has mainstream relevance (he was extremely vocal during the Michael Brown protests and made news by calling attention to the disproportionate success of white artists on the album— these rappers are like unicorns, by the way) or does he want to continue to follow in Jay Z’s footsteps and master the rap game both as an artist and as an executive, having now landed a distribution deal for his Dreamville imprint via Interscope?
Or, does he want to do it all? No laws against that, but fans have always tended to appreciate the direct assertiveness of a Kobe Bryant over the simplistic beauty of Duncan, or the perpetual selflessness of a Steve Nash.
There are no weak links on Forest Hill Drive. Cole is largely responsible for broadening the sound of hip-hop, as the live instrumentation stole the show at various points. A few weak beats aside though — it would be nice if Cole let go of the production reigns just a bit more — the LP was solid effort. There still seems to be another level for him to reach, as FHD was even less entertaining than Born Sinner. This nasty downward trend must be halted immediately.
In short, we need more.
Since our Born Sinner review, we’ve elevated J. Cole from “Rising Star” to “Rap Superstar” status (one of the first rapper we’ve done this for), and his grade on his latest work reflects that. Between the rapping, production and his new exec role, J. Cole appears to be a triple threat. He has the ball in his hands now— does he dribble, pass or shoot?