Review: With "Ye," Kanye Finds New Ways to Complicate Matters Further
Remember simpler times?
The year was 2016 and The Life of Pablo, Kanye’s 7th studio album, had just dropped. Madness surrounded that album in the months before it released, and became infamous for having the worst roll-out in hip-hop history. The album was barely accessible upon release and was illegally downloaded more than 500,00 times after its first day. TLOP had a ton of mixed reviews in those early stages, but now conversations about the album being ahead of its time have grown louder and more intense.
Fast-forward two years and we have ye. The Life of Pablo looked at ye and said, “No one will ever have a worse roll-out than me.” Ye shook its head like Cam Newton on the sideline and said “Bet,” before going to the app store to download Twitter. All it took was a few tweets for Kanye news to reign supreme on the timeline. Actively supporting the president and saying slavery sounds like a choice on TMZ will do that.
His fan base quickly abandoned him, and far-right Trump supporters that saw a political win in Kanye’s MAGA hat took their place, leaving College Dropoutand My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy fans to either fight to understand where this was coming from or ignore it. Neither option worked. There was no way to ignore the monsoon of ignorant comments. Was that the real Kanye, or is this just Kanye promoting an album? Listening to his latest drop won’t answer that question. Ye the album is just as complex as Ye the person.
“They said, “build your own’ — and I said, ‘How, Sway?/ I said, ‘Slavery a choice’ — and they said ‘How, Ye?’ Kanye raps on “Wouldn’t Leave,” ignoring the question no one asked. Problematic bars are littered throughout the album, and when they aren’t that, they’re just corny. “All you gotta do is speak on Ye/ don’t get your tooth chipped like Frito-Lay” might be one of the worst lines of the year, and the lyrics on this album are some of the worst of his career — unsurprising for the man who gave us “poopity scoop” bars as a teaser/troll track.
Inside those lyrics Kanye gets personal, but there’s still a lot missing. He reveals his load of real-world problems coupled with deteriorating mental health made him contemplate suicide. He also admits being bipolar in the opening track “I Thought About Killing You,” and his talk of suicide can be interpreted as him trying to kill the other personalities in his head rather than himself. He uses this album as his personal journal and outlet to vent about the state of his mental health — which isn’t good.
But with only seven songs to work with, the personal messages don’t have room to make an impact. His admissions feel forced, as if Kanye went to TMZ to say slavery’s a choice just so he could rap about it on the album. Every admission, even ones about others, feels like narcissistic thoughts masked as shared enlightenment for the listener.
Maybe we are supposed to sympathize with Kanye and see a piece of our everyday life problems in his. “Ye” in the bible is translated as “you,” and maybe Kanye was hoping to enlighten us through the trials and tribulations of a millionaire in Calabasas. If the situations weren’t specifically catered to Kanye, then maybe he’d be on to something, but it’s not.
“Wouldn’t Leave” doesn’t sound like a how-to guide for blue-collar men to be better and appreciate their wife, it sounds like Kanye’s personal thank you letter to his wife for dealing with his shit over the past few months. “Violent Crimes” is Kanye admitting how he objectified women until fatherhood forced him into a new perspective. Kanye would rather call his mental breakdown a “breakthrough,” but if this is where he’s landed, then it’s hard to be optimistic about him turning the corner. His mental struggles are apparent, and we all hope he defeats whatever monsters are wrestling within him to believe these thoughts are high-level breakthroughs.
For the album, ye is a medley of amazing production that’s nostalgic of old Kanye and great features that hide and often overshadow his own lackluster performances. Every feature works to perfection, and Kanye shows his genius as an orchestrator of talent. He throws lobs of amazing instrumentals and soulful samples to voices like Ty Dolla $ign, Dej Loaf, and Young Thug, and the accompanying cast catch it at its peak and rattle the rim.
The fluttering piano chords on “Violent Crimes” are as soothing as vanilla candles. Slick Rick samples and soulful crooning from everyone’s favorite uncle, Charlie Wilson, make “No Mistakes” the song even a grandmother could love. While cooking, I almost smashed my head on the microwave nodding to the bass that barreled through my headphones on “I Thought about Killing You.” Rugged guitar riffs, Kid Cudi, and a song-stealing performance by 070 Shake make “Ghost Town” great. The highs of the album become more enjoyable with every listen.
This album made me run multiple laps through my emotions — sadness, confusion, ecstasy, more confusion, and more ecstasy. The energy behind the production and nuances on each track — like the fluctuating pitch changes on Kanye’s opening monologue or the pixelated bass at the end of “Ghost Town” — hit my eardrums and vibrate through my body. In those instances, when I only focus on the energy provided, Kanye’s troubling lyrics melt into nothingness. What I’m left with is a gorgeous symphony that’s hard to hate and easy to love.
Separating the artist from the art is impossible in an art form like music, where the person is front and center. Ye leaves me as conflicted as ever about the man and the music. The album is a complicated mess of beautiful sounds cluttered with repulsive words, but the feeling it left me with cannot be ignored and neither can the man behind the boards.
Ye is one of the most complicated pieces of work we’ve been given since 2016. Juggling the man and the music is a chore, especially when you see the potential he’d have if he got his act together. A tumultuous roll-out and seven songs later, and the saga of Kanye West is more complicated than ever. Enjoy the music if you can, but no one can fault you if you can’t. Remember a simpler time?