The five worst songs by J Cole
J Cole has flown under the radar a little bit in recent months after gracefully bowing out of the ‘Big 3’ beef that would engulf his two other contemporaries. Wisely pulling out of the conflict before it turned into a full-blown war, the Fayetteville rapper managed to escape with only a bruised ego after publicly apologising to Kendrick for releasing ‘7-minute drill’.
Seeing as he was spared (mostly) from the crossfire of the war between Compton and Toronto, we thought we’d bring him back into the spotlight with a look into some of the worst work that he has produced in his career. Be warned, there are a couple of tracks in here that you might be shocked that Cole signed off on.
Initially, the task at hand seemed simple. With over a decade’s worth of music to dig into, there were sure to be some misses. As I pored over his discography, though, I came to appreciate that this would be no easy feat. Every track that the German-born rapper has produced to date has some redeemable qualities. As such, some of the selections may be a little nit-picky, but needs must.
Please note that the following is highly subjective. The facets of the music that I dislike might just be what you admire. So before you light your torches and sharpen your pitchforks, just remember that we’re all J Cole fans here.
J Cole’s five worst songs:
5. ‘Foldin Clothes’
Coming in at number five is ‘Foldin Clothes’ from Cole’s 2016 album 4 Your Eyez Only. Amassing the fewest streams on Spotify of any track on the album, it serves as a love letter to his wife, Melissa, during the time of her pregnancy.
The bass line is pleasant, akin to funk-inspired arrangements one would hear in a 1990s hip-hop track, and the electric guitar adds a nice bounce to the beat. However, the lyrics in this track appear to be written by ChatGPT. It’s almost as if this was a track written in jest and someone dared Jermaine to put it on the album. The concept is appreciated. The execution, not so much.
4. ‘100 mil’
In hindsight, The Off Season was a strong album. ‘Pride is the devil,’ with its janky piano tune, has a powerful message, and ‘My life’ blends Cole’s louder rapping with vocalist Morray’s smooth R&B sounds.
In comparison to these headline tracks, ‘100 mil’ is, dare I say it, lazy. Of course, there is value in repetition, ask any fan of techno music. But when that repetition takes up roughly 30% of the song, especially from an artist so precise as J Cole, questions over its quality are raised.
3. ‘Bitchez’
J Cole’s collaboration with Bas and Omen on ‘Bitchez’ starts off well. The combination of the brass horn and the snare drum makes for an enticing intro, and Cole’s verse after his fellow collaborators have their time on the mic is fluent in its execution.
The key element which makes this track one of the worst that Cole has produced is the chorus. There are whispers of what is to come at the beginning of the track, but not much could prepare you for a whiny version of Cole, who appears to have had multiple alcoholic drinks before recording. The tone is reminiscent of a bunch of frat guys who are full of braggadocio when, in reality, they don’t have much to show off. The high potential of this track is what disappoints me the most. It was one chorus away from being great.
2. ‘Neverland’
Combining some of the pitfalls that have hindered the success of other tracks in this list, ‘Neverland’ appears to have been made in order to fill a quota. The chorus is just a repetition of the title, and when Cole rounds it off with an extended “No” with a fluctuating pitch, there’s nothing to suggest to the listener that his heart was in it.
The flow is tentative, and the second verse is backed by some strange instrumental choices, almost as if there were two large ships slowly crashing into one another. Something as disastrous as this is just completely unexpected from someone with Cole’s calibre.
1. ‘Cheer Up’
This is the second “nice” track on this list, but that is not the reason for its inclusion. Despite the uplifting piano, in a style that can be characterised as Cole’s attempt to inspire the young girls from fucked-up families, the track lacks just that: inspiration. Cole’s delivery is flat, most notably during the chorus, when he appears to wish to be anywhere other than the studio recording the track.
The composition of the track is also questionable, with the inclusion of a post-chorus usually reserved for pop music. In ‘Cheer Up’, its inclusion is strange as it doesn’t appear to add any value. Cole’s delivery of the line, “Don’t let them lil’ boy come but do some when they try push up,” is so unpolished that it’s hard to believe that it’s actually him rapping.
The track ends with 90 seconds of instrumental, which, for some musical pieces, allows the listener to take in what they’ve just heard. Here it seems they couldn’t be bothered to write any more lyrics but needed to fill some airtime to fulfil some contractual obligations.
Digging deeper into how Cole could have put his name to something which falls so far below the standard that he has set for himself, it became apparent that this track was never mixed or mastered. Perhaps we can give him a pass this time as he has provided so much joy over the years. But we are begging you, please don’t play us like this again.