A new Kanye West album always comes with some... let's call them, preconceptions before listening. Aside from the obvious award interrupting, media influenced judgments one may carry, the last major release from Yeezy was an auto-tuned, down and out, sad kind of record. And although 808s and Heartbreak was a success, fans with roots grounded in rap were taken aback by West's decision to completely drench the LP in a synthy, robotic sing-song, with few traces of hip-hop found anywhere.
Forget all that. It's now 2010, and West's latest, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, evokes a balance of radio-friendly rhymes and old school sample structured beats, covered with that Kanye glitter. The album presents a maturing artist, more self-aware of his position in the shrinking superstar limelight, who commands its direction with the force and will of a symphonic conductor.
As the title warns, this ain't all hearty, self-asserted laughs, despite his boasts that "this pimp is at the top of Mount Olympus." There is sadness and vulnerability here. There are lingering feelings, a yearning, unspoken voice pushing past the normal conventions West has set up for himself in previous works. More than ever do we get a glimpse inside the egotistical mind of Yeezy, and we see facets other than that one; he is self-deprecating, saying we should "have a toast for the douchebags" on the single Runaway, a sign that maybe he isn't so inhuman and puffed up.
Fantasy opens with a delicate, soulful mix of hip-hop and pop, beginning with, if this weren’t Kanye, what would be a rhetorical question: "can we get much higher?" From there, a tightly wound flurry of rhymes begin, and the opposing barriers of production values and simplistic lyrical schemes are immediately shattered, setting the pace for the rest of the album.
Lyrics never were Kanye's main focal point, though he emphasizes his verbal flurries more on Fantasy than any release prior. The song Gorgeous features Wu-Gambino Raekwon the Chef, with Kid Cudi on the hook. The track is high-quality 90's loop beat-making with distorted vocal slanging, as West punches out "the same people who tried to black ball me forgot about two things: my black balls". Wu-Tang mastermind RZA is also on point, lending production skills and the final verse on So Appalled, sharing the track with Jay-Z, Swizz Beats, Pusha T and G.O.O.D. Music debutant Prynce Cy Hi. No rapper outshines here, rather, they compliment and bounce off one another, and bring their unique takes to the races.
The RZA, DJ Premier, Pete Rock, and Q-Tip, all decorated veterans of hip-hop, lend their minds to the record, injecting diversity into its production. The singles Power and Runaway are pure Kanye, but guest producers claim legitimate territory on Fantasy. Rick Ross, Dwele, female superstars Rihanna, Beyonce, Nicki Minaj, and Fergie, music men John Legend and Elton John, and even indie folk singer Bon Iver also dutifully assume roles on various songs.
The music is what really stands out on Fantasy. Everyone will find their favourite track, but what they all share in common is their distinctive, explosive hits and jabs, coming from all kinds of musically influenced directions. You can almost see the hands waving during the uplifting stadium quake All of the Lights, which includes a piano solo from Elton John. An auto-tuned hum begins evolving head on into orchestrated, gospel-like soul, courtesy of Bon Iver in Lost in the World, the most powerful final curtain Kanye has ever lowered.
Blame Game showcases a John Legend hook alternating relationship struggles of West's past over an Aphex Twin sample, with Kanye delivering another mature, almost lonely cypher, ending with funnyman Chris Rock talking about vulvas. Yep.
Other highlights include sample-heavy beat Devil in A New Dress, where the instrumental takes cues from current music trends, while still including positive nods to past times. It's repetitious, but never tiring. There are more than a few musical levels at work, and a guitar solo, of all things, separates West and Rick Ross on the track. Unorthodox? You bet, but does it ever scream fiya. Ross' verse notes he's "spinnin' Teddy Pendergrass vinyl as my jay burns," and is a definite highlight in Fantasy.
This record pulses a consistent indication of pop, but it isn't bubblegum that we're chewing. Terrific alternations of beats - shaking from the highest point of superstardom to West’s personal lowest - are at constant exchange. And it works. Have your own judgments of his media persona, his Twitter rants, and his pulsating ego; they all make their presence known here. However, Kanye's ultimately one man carrying all this baggage, and he intelligently concocts an equal amount of all parts, plus an elusive dash of humanity, seldom seen in his personae. He claims "the night demons still visit me," something you'd never ever hear him admit sans music. He delves even deeper into who he is, nearly justifying his ego, testifying "it's hard to be humble when you stuntin' on a jumbotron." As far as the entertainment tabloids go, he will probably always be that smug hip-hop star that just don't give a fuck, but consider these dispositions for yourself. Listen to the album. The rationale of his ego and artistic self-integrity is all there, and it evokes yet another reason to pull for him.
My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is intimidatingly powerful, especially for those in the game who aren't doing it as big. It pushes the boundaries of what can, and should, be rapped over for the radio, and, like previous Kanye West records, will provoke industry notice. Fantasy pays homage to rap's sampling roots, and fuses it with cues from other musical regions, all while dragging the genre forward, dignified and modern.
Kanye, 11 months into the year, finally pulls hip-hop into the new decade. Others are sure to follow.
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