Warning: This article mentions homophobia and SA.

Ever since Bowser Jr. and the Koopalings first appeared, they have largely followed in their father/father figure Bowser’s footsteps. In effect, this has meant watching a certain plumber’s feet become imprinted on the top of their heads. The younger Koopas have been pummeled alongside their father over many games, including as recently as 2023’s Super Mario Bros. Wonder. 

For a while now, I’ve been wondering: what was that conversation like between Bowser and those kids, the one that put them in fights against Mario? Was there even a conversation? Or did they simply do what many children, for better and worse, often do and repeat what they saw? Is the King Koopa’s family just another example of generational trauma being passed down? Naturally, this made me wonder if Bowser should listen to rap megastar Kendrick Lamar’s 2022 album Mr. Morale and The Big Steppers (MMTBS).  

Okay, not naturally. TikTok is partially responsible for this inquiry. The first song of the album in question, United In Grief (and specifically its “I grieve different” line), was having a viral moment in the way many sounds on TikTok do — few videos are actually about the content of the song in comparison to those that are using a catchy beat, relatable mood, or general aesthetic to get across the creator’s own jokes, stories, or ideas. This isn’t an indictment of those users, as this type of engagement with music and media at large is the short-form video platform’s bread and butter. In fact, I jumped on the trend myself to celebrate the $500 milestone for my Trans Journalists Association fundraiser during Pride Month. 

But if I hear a song enough times, especially one I already like, listening to the whole album is inevitable. Add this to the flood of Mario Kart World videos that bombarded my feed throughout June and eventually my head became a cocktail of Bowser’s RAAAAGHS mixed with Kendrick Lamar’s lines like “I got daddy issues, that’s on me/Lookin’ for, “I love you”, rarely empathizin’ for my relief/A child that grew accustomed, jumping up when I scraped my knee/’Cause if I cried about it, he’d surely tell me not to be weak.” Which brings me back to the question: should Bowser listen to Mr. Morale and The Big Steppers? 

Father Time alone, a song that features the lyrics above and shares Kendrick’s confontrations with generational daddy issues, makes me want to say yes. Given how hard-shelled Bowser is, I think Kendrick’s dissection of tough love, diagnosed as a hardened shield to protect one’s own emotions that often becomes a sword that pierces another’s, could connect with King Koopa. While I’ve never doubted that Bowser loves his child (and considering that Nintendo made Bowser the face of parental controls twice, I think the company would agree), Father Time might help him realize that it’s also important how he loves his child. Maybe find a method that doesn’t allow space for getting stomped out by a grown-ass man. 

In addition, I think We Cry Together, a song that captures a couple’s argument so brutal that most would leave the room 3 seconds in if it were real, could give Bowser a reality check about a potential life with Princess Peach. I fear for a future where the Mushroom Kingdom’s walls can’t hold in Princess Peach’s screams about Bowser’s performance in bed or egotistical behavior. As Kendrick Lamar and Taylour Paige demonstrate, people with a history of toxicity (see: decades of kidnapping) and a tendency to trigger one another may be better off separated. Or at least, should take time away from each other long enough to become different people and break the cycle of abuse. 

Despite these examples, Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers has a few hiccups that make it hard to recommend to Bowser — and at times, anyone. For example, Auntie Diaries, Kendrick’s tale of his trans family members and the way his love for them sparked serious interrogation of matters like religion and family, notoriously features rapid-fire flashbangs of a homophobic slur that would make Bowser cover his kid’s ears. This isn’t to say the song was a complete misstep. I had more conversations with my family about sexuality and gender than ever as a result of it. While we did discuss the song’s content, it became a launchpad to meaningful conversations about the trans community, trans rights, and language around both, which I believe was part of the intent.

However, the world is more than conversations and intent. There are people who have been tormented by that slur, watched it prelude harassment and violence against them and their loved ones, and are thrown right back into those horrible situations when they hear it unexpectedly or from someone who has no business saying it. This, on top of frequently using rapper and sexual abuser Kodak Black in an incredibly misguided and borderline ignorant attempt to epitomize the culture’s more negative aspects, can make suggesting this album require a couple of disclaimers. Despite Kendrick’s reputation as being one of the most clever and thoughtful rappers alive, MMTBS at times comes close to making him feel like that girl he bought on stage. 

It’s not entirely surprising that Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers hosts these specific imperfections and contradictions given this album is Kendrick’s “I went to therapy” work. Therapy is for many things, so I hesitate to tell anyone what they should expect from such a personal process, but I’ve never heard someone say they went to become politically correct. It’s a messy affair that arguably gets its best results when people come in with loose tongues and intentional rawness. With that in mind, it’s clear his approach to this album was not entirely about telling people how to be better (a point made most explicitly during the song Savior where he belts the line “The cat is out the bag, I am not your savior”), but more getting a lot off his chest that might encourage others to action in the process. 

However, this is not an excuse. While the intentions don’t feel malicious, they had mixed impact. Recognizing that his method of delivery leaves a bit to be desired does not make what’s missing any less desirable (or what’s there any more wanted). As many people who’ve been to therapy can tell you, being able to point out and identify the problem doesn’t mean you’ve addressed every part of it, or can’t continue any harm stemming from it. So Kendrick, at least as the rapper he was in 2022, created a few pitfalls that battle for space with the insightful fruits of his therapy.

But overall, I lean most toward recommending Bowser give the album a listen. He won’t, not just because he’s a fictional character but also I have little confidence Nintendo would allow him to. After all, what if a therapeutic journey upends one of their biggest franchises, given its dependence on Bowser’s destructive habits? But I wish he could. Getting one of gaming’s most popular single fathers to engage with a flawed, but honest and sincere interrogation of repeating harmful family dynamics might prevent a few concussions for Bowser Jr.