Kanye West is an artist from South Shore, Chicago. He is the son of an English teacher and a journalistic photographer (later a Christian counselor). His new release is the album "The Life of Pablo," and it’s pretty cool.
"The Life Of Pablo" is an overblown, long-winded and wonderful piece of art that makes me feel like not only the picture above, but also like West has found something old that had been lost. The oversized head of Pablo Picasso is the best representation of this album I could find. It craves legacy and confesses publicly through art the darkest thoughts and most brilliant poetics. It calls for attention, and doesn’t know how to handle it. It inspires creation.
“I Love Kanye”
I will be doing this song at every open mic I can for the rest of my life.
“Fade”
People don’t talk enough about how much West pays homage to his musical roots in his own work. This song bleeds Chicago house. The bass line is the work of O.G. Chicago house legend Mr. Finger’s song "Mystery of Love." The “Deep Inside” sample also speaks volumes to the aesthetic framework West is working from: fashion like augmentation of classical art in transformative, but recognizable forms. It’s a classic sample; it’s the memory jog switch in everyone who’s studied or lived electronic music history that says, "Yeah, this guy knows what this genre’s about," but it is slowed down almost uncomfortably.
West might just be an ass in the news to most people, but he’s still a musician who knows his 20th century music history.
Many of the individual songs are growing on me as stand alone pieces, but the album as a whole seems less and less cohesive the more I listen to it. But like most of my favorite things, I didn’t like them very much when I first met them.
The parts that breezed by without notice have grown on me tremendously (“Wolves,” “FML,” the end of “Famous" and “High Lights”). The parts that I adored at first have settled into a moderate enjoyment (“Ultralight Beam,” beginning of “Father... Pt. 1,” “Low Lights”, “I Love Kanye,” “No More Parties In L.A.” and “Fade”). The parts that I hated at first I can only laugh off now (“Famous” and “Facts”). It has become nomenclature for at least a few extremely cringey lines seem to be considered attempts at confessionalism, a technique that has given us some of Kanye's most personal moments. It generates moments of a lonely king on his throne surrounded by wolves, in my mind. These are the kinds of things that sell recent Kanye to me.
I think this album would have benefitted a great deal from the same minimalist approach that Rick Rubin took to Yeezus. Though he did have a hand in a lot of the better tracks on this album, neither he nor anyone else successfully focused West’s wild and messy creativity. That’s not to say I disliked this album, but rather that I think it could have benefited from a bit more focus on the bigger picture.
The track list released originally on his Twitter highlights the darkest moments on the album, ending in “Wolves.” I wonder if this would have garnered a similar reception that Yeezus had in tone if it were to have been released in that state. The current tracklist seems haphazardly ordered and lacks the good album flow present in 808s — Yeezus. But maybe that’s the point, that he’s not just focusing on some gratuitos project; he’s trying to express himself in an honest and as-flawed-as-himself kind of way. He’s just putting out songs he’s happy with.
West seems like he’s back near a headspace we haven’t seen since “Graduation” or even “Late Registration.” He sounds youthful and specifically-young-West on “The Mind Is Powerful” and “Momma’s Boyfriend.” It seems like he’s picking up from where he left off. But now, having learned from his past, he can apply those experimental elements under the newfound old style. This does not hold true for most of the album, but for anyone with experience listening to early West, you’ll recognize the delivery. West reaches a lot for different ambitious things on this album. Sometimes he grabs the gold and takes it home, but sometimes he falls flat on his face. I’m glad that someone out there in this vicious, almost puritan world of hip-hop is willing to be so unabashedly experimental. This album comes off as a very personal passion project. It lacks the polish and sheen of Yeezus, but it doesn’t need it. Yes, it’s long winded. Yes, the mixing sometimes sucks. Yes, there’s cringe-worthy lyrics. But the ideas, when they come through, are worth exploring and learning from.
