The Off-Season

The album is a varied selection with solid performances and production throughout. Much like the title suggests, The Off-Season feels like Cole running through different exercises as he gets in shape for something bigger.

On “The Off-Season,” he is burnishing a reputation as a lingering titan. If “The Off-Season” is Cole’s first record of The Fall Off Era, he appears far from ready to bow out, nor should he be.

The Off-Season — an earnest return to blood, sweat and ink — doesn't need much more to hit like swish.

Despite the casualness of everything, The Off-Season still earns buckets from the level of microphone craftsmanship he’s developed for himself and the melodies it brings.

There’s a very real, dare I say relatable feel to Cole’s music that “The Off Season” continues to highlight. Unfortunately, it’s a few songs short of being a great album as Cole experiments with some different styles of production that aren’t always successful. Cole’s nearly-man mentality produces a nearly-great album.

His performance on The Off-Season will have hip-hop oldheads smiling, nodding, reminiscing on days of old. ... The lack of any poignant through-line either sonically or thematically will have bespectacled journalists shaking their heads and talking about how Kendrick does it better.

Over a tight twelve tracks of nimble songwriting and outstanding composition, J. Cole continues to muse on the themes weaved throughout his discography: life and death, success and lack thereof, the divine and the mortal. He does this with personal and interpersonal anecdotes that are interesting but safe, as he leans into his passion for rap and sport and away from his predilection for social commentary.

He pulls back slightly from the narrative form of writing (sorry, to the “Wet Dreamz” heads but no virginity tales on this one) in favor of more punchlines and wordplay. This switch doesn’t suddenly turn him into a Flint rapper, but it does sound like he’s having fun for once.