Poet, preacher Kendrick Lamar calls for unity in stunning ‘ACL’ set

“We are going to make history tonight,” executive producer Terry Lickona said in his introduction of Kendrick Lamar for Friday night’s taping of “Austin City Limits.” “There’s no other album like ‘To Pimp a Butterfly.’”

He’s not wrong. The evening did feel historic. A daylong deluge had tapered to a drizzle by the time Lamar’s set began, shortly after 8 p.m., and there was a real sense in the club that the storms swept out the casual listeners and the curious. Die-hard fans stood in a standby line in the rain for over an hour and made it through the door shortly before Lamar hit the stage. It was one of the youngest, livest crowds I’ve even seen at an “ACL” taping. They showed up ready to break it down and get lifted up, and the 28-year-old emcee was ready to take them where they needed to go.

On his current tour, Lamar has chosen to forgo playing the arenas he could fill for more intimate settings and he warmly invited the audience into “the magical world of ‘To Pimp a Butterfly.’” He played with a tight four-piece band but sadly, no backup singers, and his set was broken into three movements. He entered to a smooth, funky Earth, Wind & Fire groove and stepped into the spoken word piece “For Free?” setting a tone that was more free jazz cafe than the turnt up hip-hop club he’d take us to a few minutes later with a soulful version of “Backseat Freestyle.” (He allowed the audience to carry the inappropriate for public television verse and chorus sections.)

Lamar easily transitioned through multiple roles throughout the night — poet, street preacher, party rocker — as he wove together tracks from “To Pimp a Butterfly” with songs from his equally stunning 2012 album “Good Kidd/M.a.a.d City.” He was riveting throughout. More than any hip-hop artist of his generation, Lamar effectively coaxes the crucially political out of the painfully personal in a way that resonates universally, and he performed with a rawness and urgency that matches the madness of our times.

He paused on several occasions to thank the audience for allowing him to explore “ideas so much bigger than where I come from” while also allowing him great leeway to experiment sonically. His set boldly fused hip-hop with jazz, funk and blues and it was structured beautifully to move through emotional swells. The brilliant transition out of “Money Trees” through a jazzy interlude to an explosive rendition of “M.a.a.d City” was broken at ACL Live by a 25-minute technical delay, but the energy came back so hard no one will notice when it plays on TV.

Lamar described his music as therapy, the songs he needed to write in order to survive. As an intro to “Alright,” the crowd broke into a chant: “We gon’ be alright,” “We gon’ be alright,” “We gon’ be alright.” It started small, front and center, but rippled through a crowd of well over a thousand until everyone was chanting like we believed it, deep in our hearts, deep in our souls. These are the songs we need, too.

At multiple points in the night, Lamar called for unity, reminding us our spirits transcend race, age and gender. We are all human. We are all one.

The message was received, loud and clear.

This article originally appeared on Austin American-Statesman: Poet, preacher Kendrick Lamar calls for unity in stunning ‘ACL’ set