Kendrick Lamar is the star hip hop has been waiting for, the most urgent, dextrous and purposeful rap lyricist of his generation and perhaps any. This is his second masterpiece in a row. To Pimp A Butterfly was widely hailed as the album of 2015, boasting a widescreen musicality encompassing jazz, soul and psychedelia as backdrop to a fierce, funny, emotionally committed state-of-the-(divided)-nation address. In scope, purpose and flamboyance, it connected hip hop back to the socially and politically aware soul of the Seventies, drawing comparison to Stevie Wonder, Marvin Gaye and Curtis Mayfield. DAMN is a leaner, more minimalistic work but so intensely focussed, lyrically audacious, conceptually inventive and swaggeringly delivered that it more than matches its acclaimed predecessor.

The cover (a scowling close up), bold all caps typography and single word titles (BLOOD, PRIDE, LUST, LOVE, FEAR, GOD) declare Lamar’s stripped-back intent. The feel of the album is a world away from the dazzling, sprawling cornucopia of Pimp. Yet, crucially, there has been no sacrifice of the musicality that helps make Lamar so accessible. Grooves remain fluid, funky and jazzy, melodies glide with a limber sweetness facilitated by Lamar’s masterful flow and sweet singing voice, and delicate touches throughout create a subtly layered sound that peels back with every listen, revealing new sonic dimensions to match the depths of meaning to be uncovered in the lyrics. From DNA’s punchy electro mantra about identity to LOVE’s tender sing-song reggae pop meditation on fickle emotions, DAMN is an album of surface sheen and hidden depths, where words and music operate in beautiful synchronicity, a constantly unfolding dance that lends each new approach a sense of investigation and revelation. It is dazzling.