Arguing for J. Cole’s Hip Hop legacy.
They threw the bronze at him.
artwork by Sally North.
On 2021’s “Heavens EP,” North Carolina’s Jermaine Cole lamented: “Some people say that I’m running third, they threw the bronze at me / Behind Drake and Dot, yeah them niggas is superstars to me.” For better or worse, he’s right.
Drake, Kendrick Lamar, and J. Cole are often considered the “big three” of hip hop’s blog era, reflective of their respective star turns in the early 2010s and their parallel ascents to icon status in the years following. In fact, their three debut albums released within fifteen months of each other: Drake’s Thank Me Later arrived in June 2010; Kendrick’s Section.80 in July 2011, and finally Cole’s Cole World: The Sideline Story the following September. Drake has since become the most commercially successful artist of the 2010s across all genres, while Lamar has earned universal recognition as the most critically acclaimed artist of a generation. But J. Cole is awkwardly positioned behind each of them. He has neither the wide ranging pop appeal to contend with Drake numbers-wise nor the grandiose concept albums to compete with Lamar amongst the critics. Hence, his self-admitted “bronze medal” status to the general public. How should hip hop remember J. Cole? It’s hard to call an artist with six platinum albums and over 45 million monthly listeners on Spotify underrated, but his name is not nearly as ubiquitous outside of rap circles as Drake’s or Lamar’s.
Here’s why it should be.
It’s not just a numbers game
“I been playing it back from a lack of promotion
I never was one for the bragging and boasting
I guess I was hoping the music would speak for itself, but the people want everything else.”
J. Cole, “a lot”
For large stretches of J. Cole’s career, he has turned down the spotlight, circumventing the machinations of the music industry. Cole would frequently drop with minimal promotion, asserting clearly that he would rather let the music do the talking. For example, when rolling out 2021’s The Off-Season, Cole chose to drop the record’s interlude as its lead single. The song barely scratches a full minute of rapping, but “Interlude” debuted in the Hot 100’s top ten anyway. And even though Billboard tracks song activity from Friday to Friday, Cole released “MIDDLE CHILD” uneventfully at 9PM on a Wednesday night. The song peaked at #4 the following week, yet with a traditional Friday midnight release, he could’ve captured the #1 spot.
Cole has made similarly unconventional choices in the structuring of his albums. He has famously penned multiple platinum records with no features, a rare achievement in the rap game. The genre is overwhelmingly collaborative, so Cole’s decision to go solo on three consecutive projects—2014 Forest Hills Drive, 4 Your Eyez Only, and KOD—was a bold one. On KOD’s title track, he addressed the choice head on: “The number one question is how? [...] how come you won't get a few features? / I think you should. How bout I don’t!” If you look at KOD’s tracklist and see two appearances from “kiLL edward,” don’t worry: that’s a pitched-down alter-ego who, in the context of the album, is a victim of drug addiction. Whenever Cole has a vision, he also has supreme confidence in his execution of that vision. I’ll walk through this masterful execution on his classic album 2014 Forest Hills Drive.
His magnum opus
“First things first, rest in peace Uncle Phil
For real
You the only father that I ever knew”
J. Cole, “No Role Modelz”
Cole’s music is intensely personal, and is chock full of vignettes of life growing up in Fayetteville, NC. This style is best represented by 2014 Forest Hills Drive. You’ve probably heard “No Role Modelz” at a party or two. His iconic opening bars comically underscore his growing up not only without his birth father, but with an abusive stepfather, making Jermaine look favorably upon Uncle Phil from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, of all places. As the title of the song suggests, Cole spends the majority of it ruminating on the lack of role models in his life and how that, coupled with his newfound fame, has affected his relationships with women. He doubles down on the concept by differentiating between “L.A hoes” and “L.A. sisters,” the former referring to young women who follow reality TV stars with artificial, shallow lives. They also have “No Role Modelz.” The great thing about this track is that you can approach it in two different ways. If you want, you can dive deep into its lyrical content, but you can also turn your brain off and jam to its rallying chorus—the choice is yours.
Most of 2014 Forest Hills Drive follows this blueprint of largely autobiographical songs. The arc of the album follows Cole’s career: he starts in Fayetteville, ends up in Hollywood, and tries to stay true to himself throughout. The first proper track is “January 28th,” named after his birthday. Backed by a Japanese chorus sample and a less-is-more drum pattern that centers his dynamic flows, Cole tackles his public perception, generational trauma, and the portrayal of Black men in the media. On the lighthearted “Wet Dreamz,” Cole approaches the relatable uneasiness from the anticipation of losing your virginity. He continues unpacking his upbringing on “03 Adolescence,” where he places himself back in 2003, the year he graduated high school. “A Tale of 2 Citiez” deals with the haves and the have nots of Fayetteville. The man in the first verse is building toward future success, while the man in the second verse is focused on the here and now. Twin choruses, one from each narrator, eventually reveal that the man of the first verse is the victim of the second. Cole is as confident as ever on the explosive “Fire Squad,” spitting witty lines: “So ahead of my time / Even when I rhyme about the future, I be reminiscing.” He’s finally starting to experience the success he’s been working towards. He then loses himself in his newfound fame on “G.O.M.D,” embodied by its frantic chorus of “Get off my dick!” This unfamiliar posturing eventually gives way to a remorseful concession on the same track: “I want to go back to Jermaine / And I won’t tell nobody.”
All of these themes come to a head on the record’s emotional cornerstone “Love Yourz,” which sees Cole realize that true value is in what he does possess, not what he doesn’t. The track is much warmer than the rest of the album, with a somber violin and piano keys leading into two verses full of inspirational quotables. This song directly addresses his audience, and he wants us to know that “there’s beauty in the struggle, ugliness in the success” and that “the good news is, nigga, you came a long way / The bad news is, nigga you went the wrong way / Think being broke was better.” Humans chase the nicest clothes, cars, houses, and partners, but even though the grass might look greener somewhere else, Cole cautions: “You ain't never gone be happy ‘til you love yours.” These are the lessons he learned in the arc of his own career: we all know we should appreciate what we’ve got, but that’s much easier said than done. “Love Yourz” is a beautifully simple reminder to do so. The song hits me every time, and I doubt I’ll ever get tired of it.
The biggest task of a generation-defining rapper is to release a classic album. With its anthems, consistency, and message, 2014 Forest Hills Drive qualifies.
He isn’t afraid of change…or other artists
“Okay, no problem, I’ll show up on everyone album
You know what the outcome will be
I'm batting a thousand
It’s got to the point that these rappers don't even like rappin' with me.”
J. Cole, “a lot”
As I mentioned earlier, the whole “platinum with no features” thing is truly a rare achievement. After 2014 Forest Hills Drive, Cole accomplished it twice more, and his fans—me included—rallied around his independent ethos. But Cole got tired of being celebrated for it. In a 2019 interview with GQ, he admitted: "I've been so secluded within myself that people think I don't like anybody, that I won't work with anybody [...] All right, man, y'all gonna make me put a feature on the album just so this shit can stop.” This newly collaborative spirit manifested itself in three big ways: his recent feature run; 2021’s The Off-Season; and the exponential growth of his record label, Dreamville.
Cole worked with everyone under the sun during this era. You’ve got R&B crooners like 6LACK and Ty Dolla $ign, hip hop veterans like Royce Da 5’9’’ and Jeezy, and even new age trap rappers like Moneybagg Yo and Young Thug. Cole’s presence on a song immediately elevates it. He perfectly complements whichever act he appears next to, but never leaves a track without delivering its best verse. On “Heavens EP,” he’s confident that “saying yes to a feature just means I’m ‘bout to eat lunch” and on “Johnny P’s Caddy,” Cole boasts: “[If a] nigga want me on a song, he gon' see the wrath of the reaper / I'm prolly gon' go to Hell if Jesus ask for a feature.” How’s that for a quotable?! On features, relative to his own material, Cole’s much more willing to, for lack of a better phrase, talk his shit. My top five are: the heartfelt “Pretty Little Fears” with 6LACK; the bouncy “My Boy” with Wale; the grimy “Johnny P’s Caddy” with Benny the Butcher; the earnest “a lot” with 21 Savage; and the dizzying “Off Deez” with JID. There’s so many more gems. I even have a playlist that is entirely songs on which he’s a guest.
I can’t think of a single Cole feature verse where he doesn’t outshine the rapper next to him. And yes, that includes appearances on Drake’s “First Person Shooter” and “American Dream” with Kendrick.
Less is more
“I be stayin’ out the way, but if the beef do come around
Could put an M right on your head, you Luigi brother now.”
J. Cole, “95 south”
Carolina’s finest evolved yet again with 2021’s The Off-Season. Cole dropped the conceptual weight that somewhat burdens 4 Your Eyez Only and KOD so that, across The Off-Season’s twelve tracks, he could just rap his ass off. The result is a dynamic showcase of his talent from front to back. The opener “95 south” is a bombastic introduction to the album. Between supporting fanfare from Cam’ron and Lil Jon and an explosive beat that features a horn section and live strings, “95 south” finds Cole in rare form. He stays in command across tracks like “Amari” and “100 mil,” both of which feature auto tuned vocals over slick trap beats. He also connects with some of trap’s biggest young stars: he rekindles the soulful ethos of “a lot” by bringing 21 Savage and Morray onto “My Life,” and follows that up with some great vocal chemistry with Lil Baby on “Pride Is The Devil.” The latter features an awesome transition between the two in the second verse, and Baby brings his A game. Having previously been critical of the new wave of rap, Cole is now adapting to the landscape.
But lest you think Cole is skewing too modern, “Applying Pressure” and “Close” are both pure instances of lyrical exercise where his flows and rhyme schemes take center stage. The song I come back to the most on this album, though, is the outro “Hunger On Hillside,” on which Dreamville’s Bas offers an incredible sung performance. Cole waxes existentially on this cut, pleading “I wanna know if they understand me / I put it all on A, ain't no plan B / Hopin' all this weight ain't gon' drown me / Fucked around, got gray hairs already.” The way his voice peaks on these lines makes you feel like you’re sitting right there with him. Reinforced by swelling instrumentation, the duo closes the album out by trading motivational lines as Cole raps and Bas sings: “Shit gon' get hard, keep your head strong / Just keep your head strong / The money might fade, but respect don't / The ultimate price is regret now.” I love playing this song at night because it’s so self-assuring. Gotta stay strong.
Overall, The Off-Season showcases Cole’s ability to adapt to an evolving zeitgeist over a decade into his career. The best rappers in the game have longevity, which Cole demonstrates in spades across this record. He didn’t try to bite off more than he can chew, and that’s why I think it’s aging as his second best album.
The dreamvillians
“Listen, even back when we was broke, my team ill
Martin Luther King would’ve been on Dreamville.”
J. Cole, “No Role Modelz”
Even with six platinum records, the most enduring aspect of Cole’s legacy might lie outside of his own music. He co-founded the “Dreamville” record label with Ibrahim Hamad in 2007. They’ve since developed a roster that includes: the R&B songstress Ari Lennox; the eclectic duo EARTHGANG; the ever-versatile Bas; traditional spitters like Cozz, Lute, and Omen; and JID, whose acrobatic flows keep you on your toes. JID especially is one to watch: his The Forever Story was my favorite album of last year, and it comfortably made the top ten of our annual staff rankings. Cole’s co-sign has proven to be a significant boon for all of his artists. The most popular song in each of their respective catalogs features Dreamville’s head honcho—JID appearing on “Enemy” with Imagine Dragons makes his the lone exception—and you can especially hear Cole’s artistic influence in the cadence and production choices of artists like Lute and Omen.
Dreamville’s profile dramatically improved in 2019 with the rollout and release of the compilation Revenge of the Dreamers III. The label announced a ten day recording session at a “rap camp” in Atlanta, with studios being used around the clock to create what became the album. Tons of artists were invited, many of whom posted “golden tickets” to tell their fans they’d be part of the sessions. 342 artists and producers were invited, and Hamad said that “at least 124” songs were finished in those ten days. 18 of them were released in July of 2019, with 12 more attached to the “Director’s Cut” in January 2020. Outside of the Dreamville roster, guests on the official release included Kendrick Lamar, Smino, Saba, Vince Staples, Dreezy, Young Nudy, Ty Dolla $ign, and 6LACK. Make no mistake, Cole was a huge reason that all of this came together. A fascinating mix of traditional hip hop, trap, and soul, Revenge Of the Dreamers III sold 115,000 in its first week, signifying the biggest first week any Dreamville signee has ever been a part of. The record was also nominated for Best Rap Album at the 2020 Grammys, which was the first time nearly everyone involved earned that distinction. If you only listen to a few songs from the compilation, try either the pensive “Sacrifices” or the frenetic “Down Bad,” both of which have standout performances from Cole.
The label has since released D-Day: A Gangsta Grillz Mixtape and soundtracked Creed III in 2023. Additionally, the 2023 edition of the annual “Dreamville Fest” brought an astonishing 100,000 people to Raleigh. Economic activity in the area spiked while stars like Drake, Usher, Lil Wayne, and 21 Savage—and of course Cole himself—performed. Dreamville belongs on a very short list of the most exciting collectives in the game right now, and J. Cole deserves credit as its ringleader.
J. Cole has earned his place among the genre’s elite. His storytelling and vocal presence are both exceptional. He doesn’t shy away from important topics in his music, often impressively delving into them at length while maintaining musical accessibility. He has his magnum opus in 2014 Forest Hills Drive. He has longevity, stamped by reaching new commercial heights with every release, even though he’s nearly ten projects into his career. Honestly, if The Off-Season is any indication, right now Cole is rapping as well as he ever has. He might still have his best album in him, and you can’t say that about almost any of his peers. (I’m certain we’ve already heard both Drake’s and Kendrick’s best material.) The Fayetteville MC sounds as hungry as he was before he made it out of there, and he keeps adapting to an ever-changing hip hop landscape. On top of that, through Dreamville Records, Cole has laid the groundwork for an imprint that will live on far after he puts down his own mic.
He does not have Drake’s Billboard hegemony or Kendrick Lamar’s Pulitzer Prize. But I’ll be damned if we don’t give J. Cole his flowers too. Featuring on Drake’s “First Person Shooter,” Cole himself asserts his place among this big three, taking exception to his so-called bronze medal status: “Love when they argue the hardest MC / Is it K. Dot, is it Aubrey, or me? / We the big three like we started a league / But right now I feel like Muhammad Ali.”
And he should.
edited by Alexander Oder.
artwork by Sally North.
