Album Review: The Life Of Pablo by Kanye West

Kanye West makes art for everyone and no one.

In one breath he claims his latest record The Life of Pablo is intended for the whole world, and in the next, he says it will only ever be available to listen via Tidal, the one music streaming service people only subscribe to begrudgingly.

For Adidas, he weaves utilitarian famine-wear to clothe the huddled masses, yet charges thousands of dollars for a single misshapen grey jumper. (In The Hunger Games speak, he designs for the District but charges like the Capitol.)

And he Tweets “all positive energy” after claiming to be “consumed by… purpose to help the world,” while also using the all-too-public social platform to scream “BILL COSBY INNOCENT !!!!!!!!!!” and prod Mark Zuckerberg into clearing his $53 million debt. (Kanye believes Zuck would “rather open up one school in Africa” than “help the real artists”, which is a hell of a thing to be outraged about.)

As his seventh solo record spills into headphones, the many contradictions of Kanye can’t help but colour our experience. Who is this actually for? Merely its Tidal-investing creator? And who could possibly enjoy it, given all we’ve had to put up with during this album’s haphazard promotional roll-out?

Well, to that last question, this writer sheepishly puts his hand up.

Though defending Kanye West, the public figure, has become a feat of punishing endurance, defending Kanye the musical prodigy requires little more than the hoisting of a boombox - John Cusack or Radio Raheem-style, depending on your film preferences – and playing his newest opus. It speaks for itself; the irony being, of course, that Kanye keeps on speaking for it, regardless.

The Life of Pablo ­– formerly Waves, formerly Swish, formerly So Help Me God, and, for one hot minute, Yeezus 2 – doesn’t represent a significant new step in his musical evolution; rather, a perfecting of what came before.

There are still the old soul samples interrupting “Father Stretch My Hands, Pt. 1” and bonus track “No More Parties in L.A.”. There’s still the startling, industrial screech of Yeezus in “Feedback” and “Freestyle 4” (which samples Mica Levi’s hypnotic, alien score from Under the Skin to boot). There’s Graduation-era pomp to be found in “Highlights”; auto-tuned self-loathing as with 808s and Heartbreak in “FML”; and, in the late-night cruise of “30 Hours”, we get an ambling, amiable ‘goodbye’ not unlike “Last Call”, which closed out his debut record The College Dropout 12 years ago.

Even the settled-upon title feels like a reflection, instead of a future-pointing declaration. Whether the Pablo of the title is Pablo Picasso, drug kingpin Pablo Escobar or St. Paul doesn’t matter so much as the fact Kanye’s latest is intended to encompass the entirety of a Life – probably his own. Or, maybe even life itself. Now that’s precisely the kind of immodest goal West would aspire to, and that only he could approach with some level of success.

The Life of Pablo is a victory lap – of a contented family man and major label-funded fashionista – with a largely celebratory and exuberant attitude. The gospel-infused opener “Ultralight Beam”, featuring the adorable Chance the Rapper, is a legitimate, joyful tearjerker, while the oscillating “Waves”, featuring the less adorable Chris Brown, sounds like soaring through clouds. (Handily, Kanye is working on a video game that does exactly that. There’s a reason he describes himself as the “Ghetto Oprah” on “Feedback” – he really is handing out “dope s***” just because he can.)

The recurring themes will be familiar to longtime listeners: racial politics; explorations of faith; surveying the wreckage of explosive romantic exploits; sustained contempt for gatekeepers of pretty much every industry; and the pitfalls, as well as profits, of celebrity.

Earlier records may be better, yet none have this particular vantage point. The rage of Yeezus has subsided; the internal turmoil of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and 808s and Heartbreak abated; the excess of Watch The Throne downgraded from deep red to amber. It’s the product of a living legend, and the number of LPs with that perspective is seriously small.

Case in point: on “Famous”, Kanye and Swizz Beats chant, “we never gonna die,” as an upbeat, harmonic remix of Sister Nancy’s dancehall classic “Bam Bam” takes over the beat. The musical elation is so infectious, you almost believe them.

“Famous” is, infamously, the track that reignited the West/ Taylor Swift cold war. (He claims she came up with the idea behind the line, “I made that b**** famous”; her Grammys acceptance speech suggests otherwise.) It’s the lyric that made headlines, though far from the most egregious example of his unpleasant wordplay towards women. More than on seemingly any other project, West finds himself feeling spiteful towards old flames, relishing their failure.

But then, he feels the same about estranged family and turncoat ex-pals, like the cousin who stole his laptop and blackmailed him for its return (true story, detailed on “Real Friends”). If The Life of Pablo comes from a virtuoso atop a pyramid of his own making, it also shows him and his fam – Kim, North, Saint - more cloistered than ever. On “FML”, to a suitably melancholy Weeknd hook, he acknowledges, “They don’t wanna see me love you.” On “Wolves”, he re-imagines himself and his wife as Mary and Joseph protecting their Messianic offspring from the circling wolves: us.

Kanye has shuffled further and further away from relatability – and certainly from our sympathy. However, that only makes his ‘can’t touch this’ claims all the more reasonable; he’s now operating on a level that no longer seems human, both in regards to his compassion beyond immediate family, and to his profound musical output.

Good artists aren’t here to confirm our biases, or even be agreeable. We especially shouldn’t ignore their ignoble habits, just so we can feel fine when listening to them at the gym. Kanye invites us to engage with his art while pushing us away from it. The conversations and arguments it inspires are part of the package.

“Everybody gon’ say something; I’d be worried if they said nothing,” he confesses early on Pablo, only to later extend an olive branch to haters by hilariously conceding, “I love you like Kanye loves Kanye.” The Life of Pablo is the work of genius – and when you find a genius who doesn’t inspire conflict or confusion, let me know.

5/5

The Life of Pablo is now streaming on Tidal.