Making Peace with J. Cole’s ‘Fall Off’

Graphic by Sophie Davis

J. Cole is one of the most frustrating artists to discuss, and it really should’ve never been that way. 

Stylistically, J. Cole makes very agreeable, studied and mature-feeling hip-hop with an eye for technical proficiency and respect for the genre’s history. In essence, mainstream hip-hop for adults – the favorite rapper of your dad who grew up with the genuine article circa mid-90s to early-2000s – and I say that mostly complimentary! Go anywhere near the underground, and you’ll see names like Saba, Quelle Chris, and Open Mike Eagle: all acts who decidedly produce “grown-man hip-hop” that nonetheless can connect with a younger audience (and are all pretty goddamn excellent!) 

However, if you’re a young rapper in the early 2010s who thinks they can take the landscape by storm, why the hell would you want to typecast yourself in that way and limit your larger appeal, especially to more impressionable kids? Wouldn’t it be more profitable to utilize the textures, common flows and general presentation of the ground underground scene, but with the veneer of pop appeal, thoughtfulness and originality that’ll wow those unfamiliar with your influences?

Hell, it’s no surprise that “Cole Miners” will place their favorite on unreasonably high pedestals for his bars, because in a weak 2010’s modern rap field, there weren’t many doing it like Cole. I mean, there were SEVERAL in the indie scene (see my names below), but let’s be real, how many impressionable young rap fans who likely direct the most narrow-minded Rap Twitter/Instagram accounts even KNOW two of those three names, let alone gave an album of theirs a fair shot?

As such, it doesn’t shock me that J. Cole went on to bedazzle a large (mostly younger) audience with flows and production textures indebted to the past and underground, enough so that many would label his breakthrough project, 2014 Forest Hills Drive, a classic. From there, those who bought into Cole’s narrative would praise his ambitious concepts for projects like 4 Your Eyez Only and K.O.D. and marvel at his “legendary” run of features across the late 2010s, a pedigree large enough for certain rap outlets to place him alongside Kendrick Lamar and Drake as the “Big 3 of modern rap”. 

Now, of course, I think such descriptors are incredibly hyperbolic and unfitting of Cole’s output: I’d instead use “broadly fine”. Every moment of competent rapping follows a corny or quietly misogynistic punchline, every nice beat comes alongside a questionable concession to modern trends, and any moment of introspection is often undercut by cowardice and hypocrisy. Hell, it’s the one reason I actually think his best project is 2021’s The Off-Season, just because it allowed for smaller stakes with legitimately sticky hooks which put J. Cole’s talent in comparison with the mainstream more into focus as opposed to imitating underground acts several steps beyond his reach.

Now I think the general listening public finally caught up on J. Cole’s shortcomings after his half-hearted attempts to interject into the Kendrick Lamar/Drake beef and the truly maligned Might Delete Later in 2024. Beyond the thinly disguised meekness in his stabs toward artists he otherwise respects, the project demonstrated a clear disconnect: if your fans love you for your everyday charisma, why are you trying to reach for a crown you can’t wear convincingly?

I think it took that cultural recognition and the collective lowering of expectations that at least had me more charitable toward The Fall Off. I mean, the album is… fine? I guess? Not too dissimilar in quality to his 2010s run, mostly bogged down by its double album structure leading to a truly abhorrently long runtime, but at least “Drum n Bass” and “The Let Out” are great tracks. Sure, I could nitpick all the moments of deflective insecurity and unearned ego that creeps through some lines, but to be honest, that’s too par for the course for Cole that I’m not even fazed. 

I guess as a music critic (as much as I can formally claim that title), I’m just relieved to put J. Cole in the past, free from cycles of frankly exhausting discourse. I’m also relieved on behalf of J. Cole though: it’s clear that the eternally watching eyes of rap media has taken a toll on him, so if he feels content leaving it all behind, I can respect that inner peace.

Now can you do your job of label boss and make sure that next JID album goes global? Please and thank you.