J. Cole: A Case for G.O.A.T and Next Steps
Jermain Cole’s The Off Season released in May to almost unanimous praise. The day I listened to the album and then listened again, and again, and again, I wondered if this was how niggas felt when Jay Z was on top. Like “wow, this dude is really a cut above everyone.”
I was only ten years old in 2002 by the time Jay was on the throne, but even then, ignoring the reverence other rappers held for him was impossible. When it’s 2006 and Lil Wayne considers you his greatest rival, that’s your hint that you hold G.O.A.T. status.
And right now, Cole is that dude to beat.
Intro
What prompted me to write an entire article about J. Cole’s position in life now and in the future was a discussion on the Very Smart Brothas (VSB) podcast (please check out their other content as well, it’s great). The conversation was between VSB’s Panama Jackson, his brother, and the brother’s friend. Panama’s age is presumably mid-to-late 30’s, while the brother is 18.
Panama’s stated purpose for asking the young man onto the show was to gain insight as to why youth consider J Cole to be the greatest. As the episode plays out, however, it turns into “Why J. Cole is wack and why my little brother thinks he’s not”. Panama openly admits his disdain for the rapper, and at times feigns understanding with the ole “I get what you saying, but nah” rebuttal.
While I commend the intention behind the episode, I believe it would have achieved Panama’s aim of enlightenment had he featured someone who had experienced Hov; who rapped Eminem’s albums days on end; who lived the heights of the crunk and auto-tune eras. Basically, anyone that wasn’t still a child essentially and had some perspective.
Cole is the G.O.A.T.
Indeed, if you haven’t guessed it already, my opinion is that J. Cole is the goat of rap. “Goat” is thrown around lackadaisically these days; I’m talking the best ever to do it, period. That’s my opinion. My objective stance is that music largely subjective and so no one person can be the greatest of them all. This article could get analytical and start comparing stats, sales, fanbase, technical skills, etc. That would be a big waste of time, because the reason we love music in the first place is the feeling it gives us.
I’m here to describe the feeling, the impact J Cole’s music has on fans and then speculate as to what that could mean in the future.
Why is he the goat?
For all intents and purposes, hip hop culture is Black American culture. It is the driving representation of Black people and guides our aesthetics, language, and attitudes. To simplify the art form, prevailing rap culture can be categorized by gangsta/trap and conscious rap. Before you ask, “what about lo-fi indigenous chillhop rap?”, take a listen to a large, random selection of rap, and notice that the general attitude of the rapper tends to fall towards either of these sides.
Great emcees (e.g., Tupac and Jay Z) have been able to successfully straddle both lines, making their music suitable for both clubs and private listens. Cole has done this to a great extent, as have Drake and Kendrick Lamar. Songs like “Kevin’s Heart” and “Déjà vu” are deceptively tempting jams that have you vibing to sinful intents. “No Role Modelz” is an often-cited favorite that paints both the allure and futility of bad bitches. And these are just songs that have gotten significant airplay.
Where Cole really comes ahead of the others is that not only can he float both sides, he doesn’t pretend to be a thug to do it. And unlike your favorite underground conscious rapper, or white rapper that raps ironically in order to avoid having to stand behind what he says (Macklemore), Cole speaks his truth 100% of the time. Being the goat requires a self-awareness of one’s image and impact on the culture, embracing that relevance, and stepping into it fully. Even Drake, a great in his own right, dabbles in gangsta personas every now and again (remember “Stay Schemin”? *shudder*) and the amount of songs he himself has penned is a mystery. Cole has managed to remain true to himself in his raps outside of obvious role-playing.
The reason his impact cannot be understated is precisely because he is always himself and the music still slaps. He rarely plays a role. When Sideline Story came out, it was obvious Cole wanted to be seen as a big stepper and the heir to Jigga’s throne, via “Mr. Nice Watch” and meandering piano crescendos throughout the album. Those were admittedly pretty lame (though other hits and extremely thoughtful gems such as “Nobody’s Perfect” and “Lost Ones”, one of my favorite songs, balanced it out). Through Born Sinner, 2014 Forest Hills Drive, and subsequent albums, he regained form.
This is a man that has always rapped about being a normal human being, a regular nigga with ambitions, desires, conflicts and flaws. Someone who tries to do good overall, but runs into bumps along the way like the rest of us. As a result, his music is extremely relatable. At this point I disagree wholeheartedly with VSB’s Panama who claims that Cole is boring. I can see myself in too many of Cole’s raps, see friends that kept going down the wrong path until they fell off a cliff, that it’s impossible not to feel something. “Adolescence”, “2Face”, 4 Your Eyez Only in its entirety . . . I have to think that any black child of urban upbringing has lived these experiences.
For the uninitiated, J. Cole released three LPs (basically albums, but mixtapes) before his first album. The first captured the essence of his school/college experience; the two that followed built on the hunger of chasing a rap deal while dealing with real life. Even at that point in his career, niggas were hearing Cole and changing their lives around. In “Too Deep for the Intro” he raps about how he’s “got gangsta niggas lining up in admissions office”. Never shying away from his real life credentials, he constantly raps about how college — though expensive — is a transformative experience and affordable if you play your cards right.
I was one of those guys: I dropped out of high school at age 17 and joined the military. After hearing The Come Up, I began to take my intellectual curiosity more seriously, and when the chance to deploy to Afghanistan slipped through my hands, I decided to give college a try. It was everything the homie said it was and definitely changed my life for the better.
Next steps
Obviously Jermaine himself has hinted at three albums to be released during the so-called “Fall-Off Era” before he retires from rap. So, what might come next?
He entered the Basketball Africa League on a contract for six games with the Rwanda Patriots. Regardless of how you may feel about dreams being stolen from other pro-ball hopefuls, this was a major symbolic move. Black boys are often taught (or figure for themselves) that their best chances for making good money are by selling drugs, rapping, or playing professional sports. Too many of them get trapped in the first option, oftentimes after failing at the latter two.
How many black men can say they achieved two of every boy’s dreams in one lifetime and NEVER sold drugs? Don’t worry, I’ll wait. In fact, I’m going to go out on a limb and say that Cole’s next big foray outside of managing his Dreamville roster should be politics.
We all know that politics can be a dirty game and have seen how putting faith in one man can lead to disappointment. However, if anyone could advocate for the black community and actually get something done (reparations finally?), it would be him. He has a clean record, a solid reputation for pushing for healthy change, and the ambition to go for it in the first place.
Will he want to give it a shot? Who knows. But for someone that’s goated as a positive voice in an industry otherwise known for celebrating negative activity, it’s well within reach.
