Yeezus just rose again.
“The Life of Pablo”—complete with the best Microsoft Word artwork ever seen—was released early Sunday morning after a rambling and haphazard process. Kick-started by a release party at Madison Square Garden last Thursday, Kanye’s performance art tweets—which alternately blamed collaborators for delays, dodged culpability for lyrics about Taylor Swift and alluded to Tron, the apostle Paul and his immense personal debt—stoked rumors about the album’s public release. Finally, a faded Ye performed on Saturday Night Live and ended his performance by screaming that the album was available on Jay-Z’s music streamer Tidal.
The album is as disorganized as the rollout. The sprawling and unfocused 18-track LP makes The Beatles’ “White Album” look as cohesive as Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon.” Stellar opener “Ultra Light Beams” features deliberate, stomping drums, and Kanye is the focus for only a moment, as a gospel choir and guest soloists take turns in the center stage.
“Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 1” and “Pt. 2” follow, where Kanye pleads for liberation (from his ego? His fashion aspirations? Kim?) and describes sexual misadventures on top of a beat from trap producer Metro Boomin (complete with his producer tag) and a Future-esque verse from GOOD Music signee Desiigner. “Famous” follows, where the already infamous Swift line—”God, I made that b**** famous”—figures prominently after a sultry Rihanna intro channels Nina Simone, and a Simone sample is later reshuffled for a buoyant outro.
“Feedback” features Kanye rapping over, well, feedback, before proclaiming himself the Ghetto Oprah. On “Low Lights,” Atlanta phenom Young Thug appears on “Highlights” over a scatterbrained warehouse beat composed of piano, strings, a typical R&B choir and verses about Kanye’s desires for a GoPro camera.
“Freestyle 4” and “I Love Kanye” disappoint and demonstrate the album’s lack of focus. However, immediately after, the most impressive string of songs arrives, headlined by the standout Chris Brown vehicle “Waves,” which we should thank Chance the Rapper for. “FML” is perhaps the most introspective track on the album, as Kanye mentions his antidepressant use before the Weeknd closes the track.
The highlight of the track “Wolves” was Frank Ocean’s appearance, which confirms that he is, in fact, alive, though the audio sounds like it might have been recorded in the cave where Ocean is hiding.
The album commences its clumsy ending with “Silver Surfer Intermission,” a voicemail from generally irrelevant rappers Max B and French Montana. “30 Hours” features André 3000 in a rambling outro with references to Matt Barnes’ beef with Derek Fisher and the days-ago MSG debut, demonstrating the chaos that went into releasing the album. On “No More Parties in LA,” Kendrick Lamar and Kanye trade phenomenal bars over a vintage Madlib beat, where Kanye again calls out his felonious cousin and explains why he ain’t worried about his months-old son Saint (because he’s baby Ye).
“FACTS” is a throwaway Nike diss track channeling Drake, and “Fade” lacks Kanye entirely as Post Malone and Ty Dolla rap in spurts on a dancehall beat before a beat change up closes the track and the album. “Fade” is emblematic of the album as a whole, as on many of the tracks Kanye fades into the background completely and lets his featured guests stand out.
The album is a mess, with little or no connection between the tracks—frustrating when you consider that this man made “808s & Heartbreak” and “MBDTF”— and poor lyricism or a completely missing Kanye on several songs makes you wonder about his creative process. However, the varied production is still there, and the guest features stand out—ultimately leaving Ye with a flawed and inconsistent but still wildly entertaining album.
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