Album Review: J. Cole, Might Delete Later

J. Cole

Might Delete Later (released April 5, 2024)

Just three days ago, I tried (and failed) yet again to put y’all on game.

🗣️🗣️One more time for the Holy Ghost because y'all still aren't getting it:

Numbers, sales, ratings and streams in ANY medium are a measure of success. They are NOT a measure of quality.

— Edward Bowser (@etbowser) April 2, 2024

So allow me to remind y’all one more time:

Rap is a sport.

Want to know why my generation of hip-hop heads are so unimpressed by Grammy wins and Instagram impressions? Because long before rap became a mainstream juggernaut, all we had was the culture. And at the heart of the music – the core element of rap itself – was the battle.

Battles weren’t won in boardrooms. Chart placement and video views were irrelevant when Black artists were denied airplay and video spots. Awards? Playa please. In the early days, those were mainly for the mainstream darlings, not for the MCs who were grinding in the trenches, perfecting their craft. And sure, everyone wanted money and fame but, as I said in my tweet above, that was only a measure of success, not skill.

The ONLY way to gain the respect of your peers, to be celebrated by the masses, to be made a legend, is to prove it in the booth.

You couldn’t buy your way to the throne. You had to fight for it.

Put it like this: You don’t get a ring for bringing in the most ratings on TNT. You get it by outperforming your peers night after night.

That’s rap. That’s Biggie and Pac. That’s Nas and Jay. That’s LL and Canibus. That’s Cube and NWA.

And for a generation hungry for their own clash of titans, it COULD be Kendrick Lamar and J. Cole.

If you’re reading this, you probably know the story by now – Kendrick Lamar hopped on Future and Metro Boomin’s “Like That” to throw a few blistering shots at both Drake and J. Cole. Immediately, Twitter began screaming HIP-HOP CIVIL WAR, salivating for a modern day “Takeover”/”Ether” confrontation.

Everybody, calm down.

I didn’t write about “Like That” because … I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. Eminem’s “Nail In the Coffin” it ain’t. Like Kendrick’s “Control” verse in 2013 that got everyone bent out of shape, “Like That” was more an affirmation of his dominance than a “Hit ‘Em Up” declaration of war.

Simply put, Kendrick was just challenging his peers to meet him on the court, ball in hand.

Aubrey, as expected, scampered into the darkness like a waterbug when your grandma turns on the kitchen lights. But not only did J. Cole set up to Kendrick’s challenge, we got a whole mixtape out of it.

Or album, or … whatever this is, who can tell these days?

Before we get to my “7 Minute Drill” thoughts – the reason reason y’all are here – let’s first break down Might Delete Later, the prelude to J. Cole’s long-teased The Fall Off, his (alleged) final LP.

Longtime readers know that I am a Day One J. Cole stan. While most of y’all reading this didn’t catch up until he was sitting on that roof on Forest Hills Drive, I was burning mixtapes way back in the late 00s, with Friday Night Lights STILL reigning as one of the greatest mixtapes ever made. But the passion of Mixtape Cole and unbridled fury of Rap Feature Cole rarely translates into Album Mode Cole, where results are typically mixed.

This project definitely feels like Album Mode Cole.

That said, no one can deny his bars.

Opening track “Pricey” kicks down the door with the top tier wordplay that has Twitter carving his face on rap’s Rushmore:

Climbed up out the trenches as a shorty with intentions
To switch my whip as much as Rick and Morty switch dimensions
Never really known for dressin’ gaudy, b****, cuz listen
Where I’m from, the bullets feed the ones that’s starvin’ for attention

The mixtape vibe carries into “Ready 24,” which rides the very same Barbara Mason sample that Dipset borrowed for “I’m Ready” 20 years earlier. Cole sounds so energized on the swelling production, and even Cam’ron comes through for a quick cameo. He doesn’t have the same fire as his prime but he’s still an expert at floating over these soul samples. It’s a big win.

But pretty soon after, Might Delete Later falls into the same sleepy traps as some of Cole’s most frustrating releases. Even when the bars are sharp, the atmosphere can be as dull as dishwater.

“Huntin’ Wabbitz” has a few cute moments (“I drove to CVS, copped a Plan B and I watched as she swallowed/I kid you not”) but mostly meanders, as does “Stickz N Stones,” a surprisingly, so-so beat from the usually dependable Alchemist. “Fever” is a huge swing and a miss, thanks to the return of Croonin’ Cole, where he does his worst Certified Lover Boy impression, down to cornball bars and autotuned hooked. Stick to the bars, Jermaine. Thankfully “HYB” gets a nice injection of energy thanks to Bas’ silly but infectious hook, giving the track lots of personality amongst guitar licks and braggadocio.

The second half of the mixtape/album/whatever fares a lot better. “3001” and “Stealth Mode” both are abbreviated but pack a decent amount of punch, especially the latter, with Cole and Bas on extermination mode. Bas, if you couldn’t tell, is the quiet MVP of this project.

However, Might Delete Later‘s biggest win, by FAR, is “Pi.” Y’all know I’m a sucker for a track with a blaxploitation vibe, and Daylyt’s production outshines everything else here. Daylyt tag-teams his verse with TDE veteran Ab-Soul (proving that Cole’s so-called hostility with Kendrick Lamar might not be as hostile as advertised…) and Soulo delivers some of his best bars in ages. But as great as Soulo is, Cole absolutely leaves him in the dust, FINALLY going Super Saiyan on the beat with breathless intensity:

Jermaine monstrous
Like that n**** off Jumanji, they know how he Rock
All these bodies I done caught, I should probably stop
Nah, f*** that, I willingly venture into a den full of lions
On some kill or be sent to a funeral home facility
To test my ability with this thrilling agenda
But it’s hard to meet my match when my raps ain’t really that tender

…though it’s a shame that one of the best verses of the year likely will be derailed by a tone-deaf trans joke. It’s 2024, y’all, we need to do better.

The album ends with the real reason why my texts and mentions were going ballistic at 3 a.m. this morning, “7 Minute Drill,” the official response to Kendrick’s “Like That.” And all things considered, it’s about as mild as grocery store salsa. Calling To Pimp a Butterfly and Mr. Morale and the Big Steppers, two of the best albums of the past decade, boring and tragic, respectively, is QUITE the claim, especially when so many of his own LPs are saturated in NyQuil. But beyond those jabs, there’s not a lot of meat here. Conductor William’s beat change on the second half is a much-needed jolt of energy but there are no real stakes. It feels like a response just for the sake of it, not because Cole had anything meaningful to get off his chest.

And you know what? That’s OK. I know fans are trying to force a blood feud between Kendrick and Cole but, as of now, this “battle” is more of a sparring session between peers than a duel to the death. Cole makes clear several times on “7 Minute Drill” how much he respects Kendrick. There’s no bad blood. Yet.

As a release, Might Delete Later is a solid but rushed drop that mainly serves as an appetizer for Cole’s The Fall Off, which Cole describes on “Crocodile Tearz” as “like Hov dropping Reasonable Doubt last.” If Cole REALLY wants to prove that he’s the best of his generation, The Fall Off is where he needs to make that game winning shot.

This whole thing started because Kendrick Lamar was hungry for competition. If this is the sparks that finally gets Cole motivated to deliver that 5-star classic we know he can, I’m here for it.

In that case, everyone wins when the family feuds.

Best tracks: “Pi,” “Ready ’24,” “HYB”

3.5 stars out of 5