It’s already surrendering to the monster that Kanye West’s celebrity has become to grace His Highness (on ego) with an album assessment. And yet, here we are–but, at the very least, Kanye kept it minimal with seven tracks after, once again, pulling a Life of Pablo move and scrapping the entire album before its release. With such a replete with drama and controversy public appearance weeks before on TMZ, upon inquiring whether or not slavery was a choice, West’s only logical next move to preserve some semblance of his integrity was to announce through his eighth album’s cover that–surprise!–he’s bipolar.
The lyrical content and theme of the record, accordingly matches the tone of the serene snow-capped mountains of Wyoming (where West drew many an unlikely lot to the Jackson Hole area during his recording sessions) with the defiling green font that dichotomously announces, “I hate being Bi-Polar, it’s awesome.” Continuing to mock and provoke at a time when it’s increasingly “frowned upon” (to use understatement) to speak in any manner that could be construed as light-hearted toward, among other groups, the mentally ill, West has taken the opportunity to be able to say whatever the fuck he wants about bipolarity by claiming it as his own “superpower.” Though, to be honest, it could very well be the effects of years spent with the Kardashians and the continued use of opioids that has made him into the bifurcated personality you see before you today. But, truth be told, there has never been anything divided about Kanye’s persona–it has been consistent in its inconsistency; its sheer festering need to shock and shout and interject. While Taylor Swift has had to bear the brunt of this shtick, no longer allowed to be called a shtick because it’s mental illness, others have suffered as well–perhaps most notably Kim Kardashian herself, the muse behind track four, “Wouldn’t Leave.” As close to being romantic as Kanye can get, he remarks on the tumultuous task of what it means to be married to him, finally summing up the media storm Kim has gone through since the beginning with the line, “For every down female that stuck with they dude/Through the best times, through the worst times/This for you.” But honestly, Kim ain’t stayin’ for Kanye so much as the preservation of her own credibility, and so as not to disappoint Lana Del Rey after she sang “Young and Beautiful” at their wedding.
Perhaps an unwitting homage to his 2015 recording sessions with Madonna, West’s most “single-worthy” track, “Ghost Town,” is a faint mea culpa for his behavior as he lets Kid Cudi do most of the apologizing. Echoing the sound of Biz Markie whining about a girl wanting to be just a friend, he wails, “I’ve been trying to make you love me/But everything I try just takes you further from me.” While a nod to the public’s complicated relationship with him, it also speaks to the theme of the album, addressing a constant war within the mind–the battle between oneself and one’s ego (/mental illness–and on that note, is ego a mental illness? Technically, if we look to narcissism).
This is precisely why “I Thought About Killing You” is the perfect introduction to Ye, with West getting right to the point about his simultaneous contempt for himself and others by explaining, “Today I thought about killing you, premeditated murder/I think about killing myself/And I love myself way more than I love you.” Someone with such unbridled ego and seeming self-love is here to offer evidence of Psych 101 by admitting that, yes, he rather actually hates himself most of the time. The erratic and shifting musical background is an overt mirror of his belief that “the most beautiful thoughts are always besides the darkest.”
Transitioning seamlessly into the fittingly titled “Yikes,” West continues to explore the depth of his unwell mind after struggling through an addiction to opiods that prompts him to admit, “Shit could get menacin’, frightenin’, find help/Sometimes I scare myself.” It’s sort of at this point that you feel like Kris Jenner was the one who decided to change the entire direction of the album by insisting Kanye cop to every possible believable and viable scapegoat so as to ensure public forgiveness and understanding–most especially, of course, for offering up the notion that slavery was a choice. That 2C-B and DMT were regulars in Kanye’s rotation of drugs for a time begs the question of who brought the bipolarity upon himself.
To show his reverence for the secret influence on his sudden marketing genius for Ye, Kanye references the boyfriend of his mother-in-law, Corey Gambles. For if a man can “bag the boss up,” it also surely means he’s going to take a gamble on “girls that’s basic.” It’s the effect of having money (and, accordingly, as Kanye has reference before, going for white chicks as a status symbol). Realizing he’s perhaps being too frank throughout this entire album, Kanye raps at one point, “You want me working on my messagin’,” which is, beneath it all, directed at Kris, not Kim.
“No Mistakes,” accordingly, continues what amounts to this seven-track apology, in which he addresses debt and, again, gratitude for getting through all the tumult of his marriage to Kardashian. He is also especially clear in noting, “I don’t take advice from people less successful than me.” So once more, it’s all just a love letter to Kris Jenner.
In contrast to the lyrical motif of “Violent Crimes,” “All Mine” is Kanye’s justification of the unpredictable male mind (controlled by the penis/medulla oblongata) and its whims. The most common pattern of whimsy being, of course, the Madonna/whore complex, in which a man wants a pure, “undefiled” wife and a nasty skank whore bitch mistress (hence the Stormy Daniels name check, because of course some homage to Donald Trump was necessary). Ye seems to think he’s gotten both in Kim, but, um, yeah.
“Violent Crimes” is one of the most peaceful, aurally cohesive tracks of the album despite the subject matter being Kanye’s fear of how his daughters, North and Chicago, will be preyed upon by men (but luckily most of the types of men that orbit this world of riches are merely props to be wielded on a reality show). And, in truth, it’s just another one of Kanye’s many hypocrisies/faux attempts at depth–like did you really need to have a daughter to not be a shithead (which you still are)? Apparently, as he shares his epiphany, “Niggas is savage, niggas is monsters/Niggas is pimps, niggas is players/’Til niggas have daughters, now they precautious/Father, forgive me, I’m scared of the karma/’Cause now I see women as somethin’ to nurture/Not somethin’ to conquer.” Yes, Humbert Humbert can surely relate. But at least Nicki Minaj is there to close out the album on a dubious note of empowerment.
Of course, the empowerment is meant only for Kanye himself as he masks it with the false profundity of statements such as, “I believe ‘ye’ is the most commonly used word in the Bible, and in the Bible it means ‘you.’ So I’m you, I’m us, it’s us. It went from Kanye, which means the only one, to just Ye–just being a reflection of our good, our bad, our confused, everything. The album is more of a reflection of who we are.” If that’s the case, we’re all definitely fucked. But we already knew that. Not one to let the narcissism monster not get a word in, Kanye added in the same interview, “I’m so blessed and so privileged because think about people that have mental issues that are not Kanye West, that can’t go and make that [album] and make you feel like it’s all good.” Okay, great. Thanks for that. For essentially saying that everyone else with a mental illness can’t be fortunate enough to have a release or outlet for their pain in the artistic realm. Maybe you want to tell Donald Trump to offer free studio time to these people.
Like most art–for West is vehement about being an artistic genius–Ye is more of a parody of pain in order to mask all the true pain inside. That would be much uglier for audiences to take a glimpse into. Ye is Kanye’s way of eking past all of that slavery unpleasantness, his clipped admission of wrongdoing that amounts to “Ima let you finish but…” …I’m still going to do whatever the fuck I want.
