J. Cole’s Beach Is Better
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For the last month-plus, as the two biggest rappers in the game have gone to the mattresses, embroiled in a beef that’s only intensified (sometimes by the day, some days by the hour), social media has been speculating endlessly on one unanswered question: What the hell is J. Cole doing amidst all this? Hip-hop’s biggest superstars are hunkered down in hiding, family vans are being crushed, ugly allegations and accusations tucked in gorgeous flows over incredible beats are flying left and right, loved ones (mostly women and children) are collateral damage, and there’s a possibility actual shots are being exchanged. It looks like the back half of The Wire season 3 out there.
Does that make J. Cole Cutty? Faced by the prospect of having to pull a real trigger on his brother, Jermaine instead released the clip, ejected the round in the chamber and threw the burner into the ocean—and was roundly mocked for seemingly ethering himself (or at least his image as the fearsome rap reaper who no one wants lyrical smoke with.)
But the further this whole saga’s strayed away from mere lyrical sparring, the more J. Cole’s decision has come to be perceived as increasingly sound—starting around the time Drake invoked the robotic essences of 2Pac and Snoop Dogg to goad Kendrick to drop his diss track at a quicker pace. Things have only gotten more outlandish from there. And all the while, a recurring gag has been wondering how Cole might be enjoying his free time, as it were, at any given moment. Is the one-time pro-basketball hopeful particularly engaged in round 1 of the NBA playoffs? Biking around Manhattan as spring weather finally blooms? I keep coming back to this one bizarre Jack Nicholson line delivery as the Joker in Batman that I loved as a kid: He’s at home! Washing his tights! (Cole does love him some laundry.)
So imagine the internet’s collective chuckle when the first photo of J. Cole that turns up since the week of his concession speech—courtesy of a fan who posted the image to her Instagram—is the most J. Cole Shit ever: He's on a beach, bulky music nerd over-ear headphones on, dressed like he just got back from or is about to go hoop, with a laptop (?) that he’s working out of from an open suitcase (??). It just does not get more J. Cole—the rapper who since his third album has come to exude a consistent state of banal Zen, one of the only multi-platinum millionaires you can almost always catch doing “regular shit"—than this.
He might be vibing out to some Ari Lennox, he might be listening to the ninth version of his Fall Off album that he’s completely re-tooled since he bowed out from the smoke. He probably had a lovely conversation with that young lady and engaged her in a long dialog about the merits of protecting peace. He looks happy, and I’m happy for him. As Drake glowers in his Toronto estate, tossing and turning to the BPM of Mustard beats and Kendrick remains tensed in war mode— hunkered down in a studio until he’s sure it’s safe to come out—there’s likely no one as free and unburdened as Jermaine Cole. Now, let’s all get back to running “Not Like Us” and “Family Matters” on loop.
Originally Appeared on GQ
