Lecrae has come a long way since his sophomore album “After The Music Stops.” At 27, he had just founded his label, Reach Records, and was breaking into the Christian Hip Hop sub-genre. Having recently converted to Christianity from a life of drug dealing and gang violence, Lecrae made his early music in an effort to offer people like himself a way to adopt the Christian faith without entirely abandoning their previous culture.
While this music undoubtedly has helped many towards belief, his early project of Hip Hop–Christian synthesis led to a handful of awkward artistic moments. Some of these songs resemble their mainstream counterparts so perfectly–sans Christianity–that they sound like the Hip Hop doppelganger of the Christian rock band Cartman made by singing 80s love songs with the name of the beloved replaced with Jesus. The song “Jesus Muzik” is an almost comic attempt to insert Christianity into the Hip Hop car stereo trope, and “Prayin’ For You” sounds so much like a sultry R&B love ballad that I can hardly listen to it without feeling uncomfortable.
But Lecrae is 35 now, and as he’s matured in faith and life, his music has moved away from theological delivery system towards legitimate art-object. The cover of “After The Music Stops” is an image of Lecrae dressed up vaguely as a gangster, his hat turned backwards and his mouth covered by red tape. The album artwork of “Anomaly,” however, features a totally unadorned bust of Lecrae’s head with light emanating from his eyes.
The juxtaposition of these two images illustrates the essential difference between the two albums. Whereas Lecrae’s early music is saddled by the Christian Hip Hop genre, “Anomaly” gives us a glimpse of the unique light of Lecrae’s soul. He tells us about God not through trite Christian-speak, but through at times uncomfortably close looks at his own journey of faith. While I found my eyes rolling a few times, most of his songs are raw and beautiful; or, failing that, at least honest and unsentimental.
Perhaps the most striking feature of “Anomaly” is the breadth of topics which it addresses. In the course of one album, Lecrae covers the plight of immigrants in America, the insubstantial and derogatory aspects of contemporary Hip Hop culture, the temptation of both physical and mental adultery, his own childhood molestation, and of course, his Christian faith. He even points out latent racism and hypocrisy in the church on “Dirty Water,” saying “I just dug a well in West Africa, but how many of my friends is African?”
Musically, Lecrae’s album measures up to almost anything going on in either Christian music or mainstream Hip Hop. His production possesses a lush vitality absent from his earlier releases, and the emphasis on melody and texture within his songs even takes the trend towards such heightened musicality pioneered by artists like Drake and Kanye West a step further. “Anomaly” is beautiful, from the haunting Soprano siren at the beginning of “Outsiders” to the majestic choruses of “Messengers” at the end. Very rarely have delicate violin swells and hefty rap verses coexisted so well.
Lecrae’s rapping does not disappoint the high expectations created by the beats. Since his early records, rhythm and delivery have been among his strongest attributes, and “Anomaly” showcases his best flows yet. He does not have any particularly stand out verses (Andy Mineo wins that prize for his guest verse on “Say I Won’t”), but this even, quality presentation only further highlights Lecrae’s lyrics. They all feel so loved by their creator that I imagine Lecrae reigned in his speed and vocal theatrics to ensure that his listeners hear every word.
“Anomaly” is by no means a perfect album, and Lecrae has certainly not reached the apex of his artistic trajectory. It does, however, challenge the rigid genre boundaries between Christian and mainstream, simultaneously redefining what it means to be in either. Rather than hoping that Lecrae will rehabilitate Hip Hop, with its misogyny and culture of no consequences, I find myself most excited for what this album means for the rather stale Christian genre. A great deal of contemporary Christian music tries and fails to create a genuine feeling of majesty, but at the final choruses of “Messengers,” having walked through the light and darkness of Lecrae’s heart, the listener feels that he has experienced something truly majestic.
