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By the time I had arrived home at about 8:30 on June 18th, I was among the last people on the planet to hear Kanye West’s sixth solo LP Yeezus. Before ripping open the reddish-orange tape piecing the clear jewel case together, I had read nearly every readily available opinion on the Internet. And as I had expected after watching his SNL performances, Mr. West had divided America more than the Presidential debates last November. Many people applauded West for reinventing his sound and experimenting with “black new wave,” house, acid house, reggae and basically any sort of genre that I had never heard of before. Detractors kept their critiques of Yeezus more simplistic – it’s un-listenable and is simply not an enjoyable experience enduring forty minutes of this “music.” Both of these opinions are both absolutely correct and totally wrong.

Like many tweets had forewarned me, the opening seconds of album opener “On Sight” was instantaneous confusion. Like the man himself, the song is loud, brash, brutal and alienating. The first track is one of the most rough-around-the-edges cuts on Yeezus, but it serves as an appropriate introductory track because it fully warns the listener as to what is about to follow. The album hits its stride with the sequence that follows and runs from “Black Skinhead” and lasts until “Hold My Liquor.” These tracks reinforce the ‘Kanye is a genius’ belief that was undoubtedly started by Mr. West himself.

On Yeezus’ brightest moments (not literally of course as there is no light to be found on this bleak affair, except for “Bound 2” maybe), he blends together juxtaposing samples that have no business being in the same section of a record store, let alone on the same song. “Black Skinhead” made me crack a smile as he lifts the recognizable drum pattern from Gary Glitter’s “Rock and Roll (Part 1)” and blends it with stark synthesizers and menacing voices and howls. My personal favorite track “Hold My Liquor” finds West combining the angelic vocals of Bon Iver‘s Justin Vernon with Chief Keef’s autotuned mumblings, and the results are bafflingly awesome. On the record’s centerpiece “Blood on the Leaves,” Yeezy meshes a classic Nina Simone sample with a furious horn pulled from TNGHT’s “R U Ready,” while he croons in autotune over a piano sample, which is a rare organic sound on the record.

On Yeezus’ harshest, most un-listenable moments, he walks a fine line of minimalism and sloppy carelessness. As an unabashed Kanye Stan, I can say confidently that “Send It Up” is the worst piece of music Kanye has ever assembled and put his name on. Oddly enough, this is the only track that presents itself as getting any sort of radio/club play. The off-beat, blow-horn sounding synthesizer is the most jarring musical element on the album, other than arguably the first six seconds of “On Sight.” The jury might as well remain up in the air regarding the overtly sexual “I’m In It.” West’s fascination with reggae mixed with drill/trap production on Yeezus isn’t quite as effective as the demonic sounds on “Mercy” and “The Morning.” The erratic reggae bit is pretty off-putting, but admittedly, it fits better than Beanie Man‘s “Memories” at the end of “Send It Up.”

Lyrically, Yeezus is probably on par with Graduation as his worst rapping efforts. In fairness, however, Kanye doesn’t need to be Rakim on this record; his words are less important than the emotions he evokes. His autotune rambling on “Blood on the Leaves” is one of the album’s most powerful moments. His overly simplistic “A’yo we made it to Thanksgiving” is one of his most sincere lines he’s ever put on record. His humor has always been one of his best assets, and he brings it (perhaps unintentionally) on “I Am A God” (which hysterically features ‘God,’ as listed in the credits). There are few who can deadpan lines like:

“I just talked to Jesus/
He said ‘whattup Yeezus’”

and

“In a French-ass restaurant/
Hurry up with my damn croissants!”

If you don’t find those lines amusing, I have doubts that you and I could ever be friends.

What makes Yeezus so compelling is also what makes Kanye so interesting and fascinating – it’s wholeheartedly conflicted. It wants to be political, but it has songs about fucking bitches on a sink. It’s loud, but sparse. It’s high art, but it’s lowbrow. Like many have already stated, it is everything My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is not. It’s rushed, heavily flawed and very rough around the edges – as intended. It’s difficult to give an album like this a numerical score because I think it definitely accomplishes what it sets out to do, but at the same time, as a piece of music and art, there are pieces of Yeezus that are just not very good. Overall, however, this album is somewhere in the middle of his phenomenal catalog, and while it is not as great as critics are saying it is, it is also not as stomach churning-ly terrible as your Facebook friends are saying. Judge for yourself.

8.5/10

Tags : GOOD MusicKanye WestKid CudiRick Rubin
Goose

The author Goose

Goose is a talented writer who loves hip hop and writes for RapReviews and Okayplayer. Goose brings a fresh, new dimension to The Hip Hop Speakeasy and loves any opportunity he has to share the love of hip-hop that he knows so many people have.