For certain people, The NBA Restart has been all about seeing potential match-ups for the playoffs. While that’s true and I am definitely excited to see teams like The Houston Rockets and The Dallas Mavericks go hard, I have found myself more entertained by games featuring the last-place teams.
Okay, that’s a bit facetious. I don’t mean last as in the worst teams who weren’t even good enough to make the cut. I’m not talking about how The Charlotte Hornets currently outranks The Washington Wizards despite not even being invited. To me, there are bad teams that deservingly shouldn’t be at “the bubble” right now. For me, the last-place team is the one who is vying for the 8th seed. To put it simply, it’s the final spot you can get before the playoffs kick into gear. If you’re not somebody like The Milwaukee Bucks, there is a hunger that has to drive you and push you to get that spot. It’s like a cartoon cloud of several teams fighting with limbs poking out every few hours, doing what they can to justify staying in Orlando, FL for another few weeks.
Among the teams you can’t help but feel some compassion for is The Portland Trailblazers. They may not be having the most immaculate track record, but their drive is clearly there. The more that you watch Damian Lillard play, the more you understand how badly he wants to be in the playoffs. He drives the ball home with such urgency that you begin to wonder why the team is so far down the ranking. How could a team of this caliber, who may actually give the 1st and 2nd seed teams a challenge, be fighting for the last place?
I honestly think that Lillard took the quarantine time to adjust his priorities. Sure, The Trailblazers lost almost everyone of note during the 2019 off-season, but he’s still there. He’s gotten Carmello Anthony out of retirement and… up until the past few weeks I’d say they were a fine team. I wish that I could say I had any enthusiasm for my neighbors to the north, but it wasn’t until I saw Lillard get hungry that I began to realize that more than The New Orleans Pelicans or even The Memphis Grizzlies, I want to see The Trailblazers in there.
Maybe it’s because in that time I’ve been caught up in the hype around another facet of Lillard’s career. He isn’t just a player who unanimously won Rookie of the Year. He’s been praised for his skills on the mic.
To be totally honest, I am very new to the world of NBA rappers. I have been putting it off because I perceive it as a major trainwreck. People who spend their entire time in the gym probably don’t pick up rhyming dictionaries and go through with a red marker, picking out words that sound good next to each other. Even when I listened to the fun “Shaq Diesel,” I was more taken by the energy that Shaquille O’Neal embodied than anything that he said. Looking at everyone else, I’m still nervous to commit to it, because I think the standards are greatly lowered. I love Lou Williams the basketball player, but will I lose respect for him as a rapper? That’s a Pandora’s Box I’m nervous to open.
But how do you pass up Lillard? Almost everyone in The NBA has felt contractually obligated to admit that he’s a genuine talent. He’s often been said that he’s not just a good NBA rapper. He’s a great rapper PERIOD. In a recent interview with The Pelicans’ J.J. Redick on The Old Man and The Three Podcast, he was still touted as this mastermind who released bars on Instagram every week. Somewhere in his endless training and watching basketball games (he really comes off as a Generation X kid in the interview), he’s been able to be a genuine hit as a rapper. He’s rapped at NBA All-Star games. He’s teamed up with big-name rappers like Lil Wayne and Jeremih.
To say the least, he’s got credentials.
I decided to start with Lillard on his most recent work. As a rapper, he’s known as Dame D.O.L.L.A. (Different On Levels the Lord Allows), and this Oakland, CA resident clearly has some fire in his belly. As I pressed play on “Big D.O.L.L.A.,” I discovered just what everyone was talking about. I may have lapsed on the modern definition of “great rapper,” but I was able to recognize his talent in broad strokes. Was it entertaining? Yes. Was it memorable? Yes. It could arguably still be seen as party music, but Dame D.O.L.L.A. as an entity feels like he understands exactly what he’s doing.
On the one hand, it’s hard to not compare to my feelings on Shaquille O’Neal as a rapper. Both are reflective of where the bigger genre was at the time. Shaq never wanted to be a masterful lyricist, just someone you enjoyed hanging around. The sound was also less personal, giving into gimmicks and dated catchphrases just to make the listener smile. Lillard meanwhile sounds like he believes every note in his soul. It feels more autobiographical, mixing the familiar boasts with these details that are probably pulled from his NBA career. He mentions his son, touring, and even has a number about his childhood that references Dr. Seuss. Unlike Shaq, it feels more emotionally rich and meaningful.
Even at a half-hour, “Big D.O.L.L.A.” feels like the work of somebody with a lot to say. They aren’t just using rap because it’s a fun way to pass the time. While I still don’t believe that he’s one of those “best in the game” candidates, he’s definitely doing something that matters. Nothing he does is embarrassing, and I can imagine that he sits in the studio not only trying to figure out how to write a memorable line but also to make the hook work better. Everything about this album feels meticulous, meant to get you dancing as quick as possible. The repetition is going to be stuck in your head. And the best part? He’s not showboating. Every song exists as long as it needs to, which is often three minutes or less.
An early standout is “Check,” which mixes the familiar braggadocio with the story of somebody’s made it. The chorus chimes “All about that check, no Nike.” What sounds like catchy nonsense at first becomes more interesting when you realize that Lillard has an Adidas partnership that’s gotten him three lines of shoes. As a basketball player, it’s one of those symbolic things of becoming an icon. In this world, it works at proving that the clout that he speaks of isn’t just empty statements. He’s a genuine success and the fact that he’s able to do it with lyrical dexterity should make you jealous to the point that your fist clenches.
Take this passage from “Baggage Claim” for example, which not only captures his lyrical skills but interweaves his gift of analogies and personal details. It reflects just why people who like him will defend his skills:
I came a long way, boy, I was curb service (Serve 'em)
Pray for all these blessings after church sermons (Amen)
Now my name so big I live in third person
And I don't know which one of me was in your bird cervix (Hmm)
Ay, I keep a section lit 'cause I'm a lifeline (I'm a lifeline)
I'm twenty-eight and rich, I'm in Mike prime (In my prime)
I'm all about a function when it's nighttime (Haa)
But don't get it twisted when I'm in my right mind
As far as lines go, that’s an impenetrable passage. It’s an ego-boosting riff that makes you think highly of Lillard. The fact that he can rhyme service with sermon, person, and cervix takes someone working extra hard to make his lyrics matter. I don’t know that it all makes sense, but he definitely takes you on a journey that is satisfying, making you understand why he attracts professional rappers to collaborate with him. It helps that it’s backed by a beat that gets you moving, making your shoulders shake as he gets further into things.
I’ll admit that I’m not as much a fan of the contemporary trend of call and response, where every line is echoed in a background vocalist. Dame D.O.L.L.A. does that a lot throughout this album, and it manages to work as this downbeat, a piece of punctuation that seems to be commenting on every line as if it was a joke or statement worthy of a citation. It works, though I also feel it’s a novelty approach that gets a bit redundant. It doesn’t derail things too much, but again, I’m not a rap critic. I’m just a guy who wants to expand his taste in music.
That may be why certain corners of this album go completely over my head. “Cupid” is a rather bland track that does little for me. While I love the idea of goofing on pop culture with “Ricky Bobby,” it’s another bragging song that sounds like every other song on the album (same goes for “Money Ball”). While he manages to cram in these personal details into every few lines, it’s also reflective of a culture that is about excess and proving your worth. As much as he clearly loves his son, there are also occasional shout-outs to extramarital relationships that are a bit confusing and maybe don’t speak well of Lillard. He’s not explicit about it (nor are they necessarily erotic), but it’s a clashing of the subject and personal that sometimes is confusing.
That is where I am with Dame D.O.L.L.A. as a rapper. If I’m judging him over these 10 songs, I’m a bit perplexed. When he hits his stride, I understand the praise full-heartedly. He isn’t just doing this as a side hustle. There’s genuine effort to give his fans an extension of his personality, and I love how he mixes basketball metaphors with typical bragging rhetoric. Whereas my existing relationship with Shaq made it easy to buy into “Shaq Diesel,” I am sure that I could anonymously put this on and feel like this guy knows what he’s doing. I don’t love it, but I definitely want to hear more from him.
This isn’t just a party record. Sure it will make you dance (and maybe laugh), but there’s also room to notice that there’s an actual artist underneath. As a tool of myth-making, this is solid enough. It may never mention his stats by name nor how he’s the poster child of The Trailblazers right now. In some ways, it feels separate, that he’s this underdog all over again trying to make his rap career successful without using basketball as a crutch. I don’t know how to describe it, but you almost feel like this is a peek into an alternate dimension where rap came first and basketball was second. In some ways, ironically, it feels that way when watching The NBA Restart.
The most successful tool of “Big D.O.L.L.A.” is that it makes me want to go further into this side of his career, where he’s practicing every week to better himself as a performer. I’ve heard that he has diss tracks. What is that like? Am I just writing off this current generation of NBA rappers because Shaq is a hokey dude by nature?
Lillard is making me see this whole side of things differently. I’ll admit that I’m more likely to appreciate him as a player than a rapper, but neither suffers. He gives them equal attention and you feel like he’s fighting for that last place spot in both. He wants to be in that level of respect that gets you further, and he’s just out of reach. All you can do is rely on the support of others to bring out your best self. For instance, I probably wouldn’t have listened to him if enough people didn’t convince me I had to. I’m glad that I did, even if I’m waiting for something more before I consider him worthy of top-tier greatness.
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