The Norm Report - Volume 2
On Kendrick Lamar, "Luther," and flared jeans
Hello and welcome back to The Norm Report, a new N.E.H. series in which I learn what normal people in this godforsaken country are seeing, hearing, reading, and feeling. For today’s installment, we’re talking about the number one song in America and the people who made it. Let’s go.
“Luther” by Kendrick Lamar ft. SZA
I love this song. I especially love when duets top the Billboard Hot 100. “Islands in the Stream,” “The Boy Is Mine,” “Easy Lover…”
The key to a good duet, of course, is chemistry, and Kendrick Lamar and SZA have it. They’ve got the rizz, baby. Kendrick locates his delivery somewhere between rapping and singing to match SZA. They both sound sorta tired and/or bored, but in a good way. SZA executes melodically rich vocal runs (“I’d give you everything”) with minimal effort (and melisma, look it up), and you can’t help but fall in love with her. Which is to say I can’t help but fall in love with her. Luv, u SZA.
I admit I’ve never encountered “Luther” in the real world. I haven’t heard it on pop radio or in line at the CVS. I don’t listen to pop radio. The idea of listening to pop radio doesn’t necessarily make me want to gouge out the ol’ eardrums with a pencil á la Butthole Surfers, but the practice most certainly does. In other words, I do not want to hear Lady Gaga, Bruno Mars, Drake, or (checks notes) Teddy Swims.
I only listen to two Chicagoland radio stations: 93.9 LITE FM (Relaxing Favorites) and the ultimate champion of local radio, 87.7 MeTV FM (Timeless and Memorable). They’re oldies stations, okay. While listening to them, I get to hear certified slammers such as “Papa Was a Rollin’ Stone” and “It Must Have Been Love” alongside audiogloop such as “Just When I Needed You Most” and “She’s Like the Wind.” This has the effect of making me feel good and nourished and suspended in the nostalgic placenta of America’s aural mistakes.
Pat, what are you talking about?
I love listening to bad music, but only if it’s from, say, 1974 (I’m looking at you, “Please Come to Boston”), and I hate listening to bad music from 2025 (I’m looking at you, “A Bar Song (Tipsy)”). Why? Inert bygone hits can be educational. They can inform my music taste and even the music I make. A little tinkle on the triangle may tickle my pleasure centers, and then I can borrow that trick for some project I’m working on. Current hits are never inert. They’re toxic, poisoning otherwise neutral experiences at the aforementioned CVS. I’ve noticed Lady Gaga’s album cover on the margins of my internet for weeks now, and it bothers me. I don’t like Lady Gaga. I’ve never liked Lady Gaga. Why do I have to look at her/her album cover?
Circling back to “Luther,” is this song popular in the old way? Meaning, does its footprint extend beyond the confines of streaming? Do people who actually partake in mass media hear this song organically in the car, on the Bose while making dinner, etc.? Does that world even exist anymore?
And more importantly, what was up with Kendrick’s jeans at the Super Bowl?
After Kendrick’s Super Bowl halftime performance, I received a number of texts, DMs, and in-person queries about his jeans. What did I think of them? Did they signal the arrival of a new (that is, old) silhouette? And [strokes chin] what does it all mean?
Thanks to all who queried! At the risk of beating a dead horse (SB LIX happened over a month ago) I would like to share my thoughts now.
And my thoughts are… I like them! They look good to me. They’re from the French fashion house Celine, a brand I think about approx. twice per year, usually when I’m thinking about Hedi Slimane (wish I didn’t have to). I assume normals think about Celine in terms of handbags. That’s about as far as most normals go when it comes to luxury goods, and I will save my thoughts on that phenomenon for some other day.
Listen, I think a guy can have different kinds of pants in his wardrobe. Different cuts, different colors. Dark jeans, baggy fatigues, tapered chinos. And a pair of washed out flares. Why not? The ideas of uniform dressing and/or capsule wardrobes and/or timeless style bore the heck out of me. Put on a costume. Look like an undergrad circa 2006. Who cares.
Speaking of 2006! Most of the pushback, I noticed, came from women aged 35-45. Kendrick’s jeans seemed to trigger some unpleasant memory of traipsing from the dorm to the bar in wet conditions. Frayed and wet hems, a going out top, a digital camera around the wrist, five straws in a fishbowl. You know the vibe. I lived that life, too. In time we course corrected (enter skinny jeans) but the memory persists.
And lest we forget, hardcore kids rocked men’s flares before they hit the mainstream.
Which brings me to my next (and hopefully final) point: You can sit this trend out. Maybe it goes without saying, but Kendrick wearing $1300 flares doesn’t mean you have to, too. Definitely don’t buy flares from SHEIN (JFC). The denim brands I wear and love have been making flares for awhile now, sometimes via the tamer bootcut silhouette and sometimes with no restraint at all (Kapital’s). I don’t own a pair of flares. Yet.
Alternatives
Music: Cotton Crown by The Tubs
Book: Wellness by Nathan Hill
Interview: Donald J. Trump and the End of America
