- I've always felt it's unfortunate when an artist's early work ends up being their most critically acclaimed. Sure, the attention can be nice, but it more often than not ends up limiting their growth, marring creativity with expectation. Mick Jenkins has fallen prey to this his whole career, after breakout 2014 mixtape The Waters presented a fresh take on Chicago's modern conscious sound, overflowing with aquatic analogies which prompted early comparisons to Chance and Kendrick. Since then, Mick's projects have repeatedly failed to reach this high watermark, with shortcomings most evident on 2016's The Healing Component, or THC.
Mick's ambition on Pieces of a Man is immediately evident, borrowing a title from soul legend Gil Scott Heron's debut of the same name. The intimate spoken word which opens Heron Flow sets both tone and expectations as Mick outlines his intentions atop an animated jazz instrumental. It's a bold move from a conscious rapper, given Gil-Scott's revolutionary bent and reputation for political poetry.
But before I get to what Mick has to say here, let's look at what he says it over Leading up to this album, Mick released the dual or more; the anxious and frustration mixtapes, which saw him embracing lo-fi cloud rap, as well as abstract styles. These tapes were a deconstruction of Mick's sound, fragmenting song structure and favouring complex verses.
Pieces of a Man instead returns to the signature atmospheric and jazzy boom-bap prevalent throughout much of Jenkins' discography. Going back to this straightforward style should theoretically allow Mick to flex his lyrical muscle, but instead ends up homogenizing the record, each track becoming a blur of standard conscious fare delivered at medium tempo. Even Kaytranada and BadBadNotGood's production contributions feel more revisionist than anything else.
Which brings me back to lyrical content. Despite bold ambitions on the opening track, I could not for the life of me find a coherent concept here. Allegedly each cut examines a different aspect of modern black manhood, but Mick rarely ever hones in on a specific subject or theme. What results is simply a character portrait, which is nothing we haven't got from Jenkins before. When every song's content boils down to blackness, respecting women, weed, humility, more weed, and a smattering of vague social commentary, it all starts to wash over you after a while.
Now don't get me wrong, Jenkins is far from your run of the mill conscious rapper, and maybe that's why I'm so disappointed. He's proven his skill time and time again, yet his concepts consistently fail in amounting to more than their individual parts. THC might have been a bit heavy handed with its message, but at least most songs had a point. It almost feels like Mick is painting himself further into a thematic corner with each release.
Saying that, Mick's technical skill holds Pieces of a Man together. He's clearly been hard at work honing his flows, and as such the record's best moments consist of lengthy lyrical avalanches in which constantly evolving rhyme schemes keep me continually guessing as to where he's going next. I'll also admit Mick's wordplay is a cut above most contemporaries, though I just wish these witty and sharp punchlines coalesced into something greater.
To say I was let down by Pieces of a Man would be an understatement, but that's only because I know Mick is capable of better. The track list has so few standout moments, and even the Ghostface feature failed to hold my attention. This record is 17 good songs, nothing more, nothing less, and it truly saddens me to say that. However, if you're a fan of the Chicago scene there are far worse options, and I can't see hardcore fans being too disappointed. For a more experimental side of Mick, check out his aforementioned or more mixtapes, and for a sharper concept there's always The Waters. Still, I try keep faith in Mick's potential, and hold hope he'll produce something truly spectacular in the future, Kendrick comparisons be damned.
- Boddhi Farmer.