This year, Kendrick Lamar ran away with the title of best rapper alive. Drake may be richer, Young Thug may be bolder and the Migos may better reflect the modern sound of the genre. But since Kanye West cut his show short in Sacramento, no hip-hop artist feels more important than Lamar, a reputation that he earned with Good Kid, M.A.A.D. City, reinforced with To Pimp a Butterfly and cemented with his most recent album, DAMN.

Performing at the SAP Center on Aug 12, Lamar stands apart primarily for his ability to package profound insights in face-melting verses. He rarely uses the electric modulation of his peers, instead relying on his gale-force flow and mastery of poetic meters.

He cranks this skill to 11 during the second half of the album’s second track, “DNA.” Reportedly, Lamar had been so possessed in the booth that he rapped the dizzying, relentless verse a capella. Producer Mike WiLL Made-It finished the track with a gobsmacking beat flip that, combined with Lamar, steamrolls the listener. It’s awesome, in the actual sense of the word.

But crucially, Lamar backs up his verbal gymnastics with substance. And on DAMN., he tackles his personal triumphs, failures and hypocrisies in a way that seems vital to our nation’s understanding of itself in a time that has “the feelin’ of an apocalypse happenin’, but nothin’ is awkward,” as he puts it on “FEEL.”

Still, he knows his listeners don’t want an hour-long lecture. So he gives a few crowd pleasers, primarily “HUMBLE.,” the NBA playoffs’ theme song, and “LOYALTY.,” a complementary collaboration of equals with Rihanna that’s much more interesting than the flirt-sesh most rappers ask her for. Both have music videos with gripping visuals, which combined with Lamar’s Phelps-ian breath control, should make for a well-worth-it live show.

Otherwise, Lamar spends much of DAMN. addressing personal and national depravity. On “XXX.,” he pairs with a nearly unrecognizable U2 and starts by advising a friend to shoot those who killed his son and ends by pointing out that America, from the “back streets” to “Wall Street,” rewards the viciously selfish. By the time he asks, “Is America honest or do we bask in sin?,” the answer is pretty obvious.

He examines this theme more thoroughly on “LUST.,” a song that contains probably his greasiest hook ever, which ends with these two lines: “Let me put the head in, if it’s okay/She said, ‘it’s okay,’” He growl-coos the first part, then follows with a falsetto, making the consent feel deeply ill-advised.

In the verses, he begins by painting portraits of superficial pleasure seekers, including himself. Then he pivots to describing the post-election street-storming that’s faded as we’ve adjusted to our increasingly chaotic and fascist government. Suddenly, the hook’s meaning jumps from highlighting personal weakness to national complacency that’s allowed a truly vile movement to put the head in.

Throughout DAMN., Lamar readily admits fault and reckons with his guilt of falling victim to the same evils he decries. Over indie guitar strums on “PRIDE.,” he cops to his emotional unavailability and admits, “in a perfect world, I’d choose faith over riches…work over bitches…” And these moral failures have consequences for Lamar, who samples a phone call from his “cousin Carl” that describes the continuing influence of a curse prophesied in Deuteronomy.

Unlike the happy-go-lucky New Testament gospel of Chance the Rapper, Lamar possesses a more Old Testament view of a God—a deity that punishes wickedness and rewards good deeds. And in this a-religious era, the sermons land because of Lamar’s ability to extrapolate from his personal experience at every strata of life to wrangle with our unprecedented state of affairs.

On the album-closer “DUCKWORTH.,” Lamar unfurls a twist-laden story of how his father, Ducky, worked at a KFC and hooked up Anthony Tiffith—the drug dealer turned head of Lamar’s record label—with extra biscuits and chicken, prompting Tiffith to decide against robbing the store and potentially killing Ducky. The rapper muses that this choice may have ultimately allowed Lamar to avoid a life of crime.

Laid over a soul sample that sounds like a game of duck, duck, goose, the intricate track points out how, in difficult circumstances, seemingly meaningless acts of kindness can produce unimaginable rewards—divine advice in these damned times.

Kendrick Lamar
Aug 12, 7:30pm, $47+
SAP Center, San Jose

In a sense, Los Angeles-based jazz saxophonist Kamasi Washington had it all. At just 19, he began touring with Snoop Dogg, which led to gigs backing up greats like the “Queen of Funk” Chaka Khan and jazz fusion bassist Stanley Clarke. More recently, his resume landed him a credit on Kendrick Lamar’s latest LP, To Pimp a Butterfly.

As a virtuoso, he could have easily carved out a career of steady work as a session player and hired gun on the road. But Washington and his friends, a loose collection of musicians known as the West Coast Get Down, knew they didn’t want to settle for in-demand support gigs, as their fathers had. They wanted the world to hear what they had to say.

And so Washington came out swinging. His debut full-length is a sprawling, no-holds-barred, three-disc opus, fittingly titled The Epic. With it, Washington has announced himself as one of the most talented and visionary figures on the burgeoning Los Angeles jazz scene.

This weekend, local audiences will have two opportunities to see Washington. He is scheduled to open San Jose Jazz Summer Fest’s Kaiser Permanente Main Stage at noon on Sunday with his band, The Next Step. Sunday night, he’ll close the California Theatre Stage with the West Coast Get Down collective.

To understand The Epic, it’s important to grasp Kamasi Washington’s musical past. As a teen in South Central Los Angeles, he formed the Young Jazz Giants with pianist Cameron Graves, drummer Ronald Bruner and Ronald’s brother, Stephen—better known as the Kendrick Lamar collaborator and producer, Thundercat—on bass.

“We were really focused,” Washington says, reflecting on that period. “We knew what we wanted to do in life. We were playing all day long, all night, going to jam sessions, sneaking into concerts, driving all over the city.”

Washington and his crew formed a “creative core” and found support in the greater L.A. area. The trick was pushing their ideas beyond the region.

The decades-long struggle among L.A.’s jazz community to step out from under the shadow of the New York scene may help explain the powerful tension that exists on Washington’s nearly three-hour outing, with its domineering, maximalist approach.

The album features hard-driving solos and a double rhythm section, composed of two drummers, two bassists and two keyboard players. String orchestra and choir arrangements float in and out of the mix, adding musical density to the already massive sound.

Ten seconds into the opening track, “Change of the Guard,” Kamasi and company live up to the album’s lofty title, unleashing a wall of sound that pushes the record to its limit. Eight minutes in, Washington’s tenor sax screams while pianos stab out sharp chords; the supporting strings slather on a layer of unruly tension that doesn’t let up over the track’s 12-minutes.

“Re Run Home,” the 14-minute opus that opens Epic’s third disc, simmers with urgency from start to finish, firmly grounded by the dual drum work of Ronald Bruner Jr. and Tony Austin. Ryan Porter and Igmar Thomas trade trombone and trumpet licks until their solos weave into one another, creating a musical synergy at once competitive and supportive. This open interplay is a hallmark of the album, and a testament not only to Washington but the world-class talent surrounding him on this project.

The Epic wasn’t created in a vacuum. It’s the latest work in a continuation of the sound Washington and his friends have collectively been creating for years—all with the steadfast support of Brainfeeder boss Steven Ellison, better known as Flying Lotus. The L.A.-based producer and leading voice in L.A.’s wide-open, forward-thinking, jazz-inflected music scene gave Washington the space and support to create whatever he wanted. For this, Washington is grateful.

“So often, the music has to struggle with the business,” Washington says. “It’s really cool when the business is just down and cool to let you do what you want to do.”

As Washington tells it, his father’s development was halted by the “pitfall of not believing in yourself enough to push your own music.” Washington doesn’t suffer from the same self-doubt about his musical ability. The way he sees it, the only real challenge is the clock. Washington is racing to get all his creativity out while he still can.

“In the end, time will run out,” Washington says. “There’s a time limit to how long you’ll have this gift at the highest level that you have it.” And so he will continue to play—as if his life depends on it.

Kamasi Washington plays San Jose Jazz Summer Fest on Aug. 9 at 12pm on the Kaiser Main Stage and at 7pm at the California Theatre Stage.

When B. Lewis isn’t busy producing best instrumental hip-hip/electro tracks in the Bay Area or DJing at local parties, he’s also producing bands. Just this year, he produced Boston indie-funk band Bad Rabbit’s latest record, American Love, which earned a 7.5 rating on Pitchfork.

Here, B. Lewis shares some of his favorite tracks in in 2013:

Chance the Rapper – “Everybody’s Something”
This track embodies everything you need to kick off your shoes and relax. I’m usually against using a Slum village sample, especially “Fall in Love,” but in this case, all the elements are placed just right.

Thousands of hip hop fans showed up to Shoreline Amphitheatre for two days of Rock the Bells music festival, headlined by Wu-Tang Clan and Bone Thugs-N-Harmony performing alongside holograms of deceased rappers Ol’ Dirty Bastard and Eazy-E, respectively.

A$AP Mob, KRS One, Kid Cudi, Rakim, Common and Kendrick Lamar were among other highlights at the festival. Metro photographer Orrian Willis was there to capture the action.

One of the biggest hip-hop shows of the weekend arrived at an unlikely venue yesterday as Bay Area rap legend E-40 headlined Stanford’s BlackFest with one of L.A.’s hottest new MCs, Kendrick Lamar.

Metro photograph Aron Cooperman was at the university’s Frost Amphitheater to catch the action, which also included dance performances, vendors and a 3-on-3 basketball tournament.

Stanford is known for their labs, clinics, sports teams and ubiquitous sweatshirts—not hip-hop.  And certainly not two huge West Coast rappers, the legendary E-40 and rookie-of-the-year lyricist, Kendrick Lamar. Bother perform at the university Sunday, May 20.  

This year’s Stanford’s BlackFest Music Festival will be the largest yet, capping a long history that began as a family style picnic that started 20 years ago with activities that were centered around music, a  3-on-3 basketball tournaments, kids’ activities, dominoes and the like. It was fun and safe and simply grew as attendance multiplied. Through the years, it began fostering local acts and campus organizations as word spread beyond the campus.

In 2009, Day 26, an R&B group from Diddy’s reality show, Making the Band 4, headlined.  The following year, rapper Wale headlined and both events drew crowds of approximately 1,500, respectively.  Last year, Southern drawls and slumpy, keyboard beats boomed from the event as Big Sean and  Travis Porter headlined.  It was huge and, by then, a different monster.

The upcoming event, held at the Frost Amphitheater, features a balance of acts; veteran taste-maker and Vallejo icon E-40, known for verbose lyrics and his own lexicon of street slang is matched with Kendrick Lamar, Compton’s newest prodigal son; an MC with raps that skew more conscious than gangster. Both are heralded with huge followings. Local acts Black Greeks and Catch A Fyah will provide additional entertainment. Check out the newest (and most timely) collab between Kendrick and E-40 and Droop E (40’s son) “Catch A Fade”.

BlackFest is at Stanford University’s Frost Amphitheater on May 20. Tickets are $20 and doors open at 1:30pm.

On November 10, 1891, Arthur Rimbaud died. On November 10, 2011, on the 130th anniversary of the hapless French poet’s death, Drake’s album “Take Care” was leaked. And for the last four months, he’s unknowingly embarked on a tour to resurrect Rimbaud’s central thesis of maddening love – in packed arenas across the country. And Friday at the San Jose State Event Center, the audience will respond.

A lofty premise, to be sure. We know the rapper is sensitive. The evening will see Drake speak, or rather sing, interspersed with moments of rapping. He’ll do it with some discomfort. Though a loner at heart, he so badly wants to be an accomplished showman, to command the world’s attention in a way that bigger icons like Jay-Z now seem born to do. The high paranoia and introspective dint of “Take Care” would seem to jibe better in an intimate setting—not a college stadium. And so, fortunate for him, the album’s true message is padded with hip-hop cliches like a spoonful of sugar, so you’ll better digest the emotional medicine.

In “Tale,” one of Rimbaud’s most famous poems from his collection Illuminations, he spoke of a monarch’s driving motivation – perfection in love:

“A Prince was annoyed at always being occupied with perfecting vulgar generosities. He foresaw amazing revolutions in love, and suspected that his wives could come up with something better than complacency adorned with sky and luxury. He wished to see the truth, the hour of essential desire and satiIsfaction. Whether or not this was an aberration of piety, he wanted it. He possessed at the very least a rather broad human power.

Drake thinks much about “vulgar generosities,” “revolutions in love,”, “something better than complacency adorned with sky and luxury” – and has tried to convince us to celebrate them.

None of his accomplices can know about this. The evening will begin with Harlem’s resident ‘it’ kid, A$AP Rocky, who, in the cyclical nature of popular culture is refreshing because he’s a nostalgic. As is Compton’s Kendrick Lamar, who once saw Tupac Shakur in a dream, and sometimes displays Pac’s ability to inhabit misguided spirits so he can better understand them (on the subject of dates, their birthdays are a day apart).

Drake will have to breathe life into some dispiriting material, and relive bravura highs and bravura lows in the span of a less than two hours set. If not heard in the appropriate order, “Take Care” is manic. The emoting can get intense, and the cagey, expected machismo he proffers in return might ring untrue to less sympathetic ears.

Just how he’ll distribute the story of his relationships will prove interesting—how will the narrative unfold? Will the saga of his recklessness, with confident and knowingly brash tracks, like 2010’s “Money to Blow,” or his verse on DJ Khaled’s posse cut “I’m On One” be paired next to the superficial idol worship of “Best I Ever Had” and “Make Me Proud”?

What he does best is pay homage—to women, to his family and sometimes unconvincingly, to himself. Strange as it is to ask a rapper to be further self-aggrandizing, it’s just as much in Drake’s interest, as it is in ours, that he celebrate himself.

Drake performs at San Jose State Events Center on March 10 with Kendrick Lamar and A$AP Rocky. Tickets are sold out.