
Lamar's tale of ducking Compton's rougher corners to find himself artistically." Pitchfork 's Jayson Greene feels that they reinforce the album's theme of "the grounding power of family", interpreting "family and faith" to be "the fraying tethers holding Lamar back from the chasm of gang violence that threatens to consume him." Jon Caramanica of The New York Times finds them to be a part of the album's "narrative strategy", with "prayers and conversations and different voices and recollections and interludes, all in service of one overarching story: Mr. The album features naturalistic, vérité-like skits that dramatize the characters' limitations. Cowie of Exclaim! observes a "transformation" by Lamar's character "from a boisterous, impressionable, girl-craving teenager to more spiritual, hard-fought adulthood, irrevocably shaped by the neighbourhood and familial bonds of his precarious environment." Slant Magazine 's Mark Collett writes that Lamar executes the character's transition by "tempering the hedonistic urges of West Coast hip hop with the self-reflective impulses of the East Coast." David Amidon of PopMatters views that the album provides a "sort of semi-autobiographical character arc", while MSN Music 's Robert Christgau writes that Lamar "softspokenly" enacts a "rap-versus-real dichotomy". Lamar introduces various characters and internal conflicts, including the contrast of his homesickness and love for Compton with the city's plagued condition. The songs address issues such as economic disenfranchisement, retributive gang violence and downtrodden women, while analyzing their residual effects on individuals and families. Lyrically, the album chronicles Lamar's experiences in his native Compton and its harsh realities, in a nonlinear narrative. whose various dreamy styles have very little to do with the legacy of the West." Okayplayer's Marcus Moore writes that its "expansive and brooding" instrumentals eschew "California's glossy West Coast funk" for a " Dungeon Family aesthetic." Dre's G-funk during the early 1990s, but adds that "Lamar often sounds like Drake. Andrew Nosnitsky of Spin cites the music's "closest point of reference" as "the cold spaciousness of ATLiens-era Outkast, but as the record progresses, that sound sinks slowly into the fusionist mud of those sprawling and solemn mid-2000s Roots albums." Sasha Frere-Jones of The New Yorker finds its use of "smooth" music as a backdrop for "rough" scenarios to be analogous to Dr. Writers draw comparisons of the music to Outkast's 1998 album Aquemini. It eschews contemporary hip hop tastes and generally features tight bass measures, subtle background vocals, and light piano. Good Kid, M.A.A.D City has a low-key, downbeat production, with atmospheric beats and subtle, indistinct hooks. Nobody is heroic here, including Lamar-from Christian strivers to default sociopaths, all the players are confused, weary, bored, ill-informed." "The accuracy of its intimate autobiographical details is irrelevant-what matters is that this album helps you feel the internal struggles of a good kid who may not be good enough as he risks derailing his life by succumbing to the kneejerk loyalty, petty criminality, and gang warfare of the hood he calls home.
