Album Review: There Is Only One Good Song on Kanye’s "Jesus Is King"

Why God, why?

How bad is Kanye West’s shoulda-stayed-delayed album Jesus Is King? Let us count the ways tracks.

Opener "Every Hour" sees Ye briefly ceding the spotlight to his Sunday Service Choir, who’ve been revitalising his older music through gospel in weekly masses. Unfortunately, though Kanye may now be saved, they can’t do the same for the rest of his album.

"Selah", its follow-up, is the true mission statement, where an emergent Kanye spouts Bible verse over bombastic drums and whooshing sounds presumably stolen from Survivor promos. It’s one of many times he and his producers interpolate classic gospel hymns, but it's not in service of a humbler Ye. He tells of how he learnt to forgive, and yet, at no point has he learnt to apologise (when there’s so, so much to be sorry for). On the song, he reiterates, "When I scream at the chauffeur, I ain’t mean, I’m just focused." We always knew Kanye hated being a follower, and apparently that's true even as a man of faith. "Selah" proves he’d rather skip to the part where he can be a hypocritical preacher.

"Closed on Sunday" will no doubt become the record’s most recognisable tune, thanks to the so-bad-it's-still-bad refrain, "Closed on Sunday, you’re my Chick-fil-A." Kanye's continued love for terrible punchlines is not the disappointing part; it's that he's name-checking a religious franchise notable for its anti-gay controversies on a song about raising his Kardashian-West family "in the faith".

"On God" squanders a swirling Graduation-esque keyboard riff with lyrics that see West continue to explain, poorly, his thoughts on repealing the 13th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution; y’know, the one that abolished slavery. (For a proper interrogation of the amendment and how it masks modern day slavery in the American penal system, watch Ava DuVernay’s documentary The 13th, which, unlike this album, doesn’t appear to have been tossed off over a weekend.) He has another crack at the 13th on the forgettable "Hands On", where he also airs his grievances with Christians; an event better suited to Festivus than Christmas.

"Everything We Need" has a soothing hook by Ty Dolla $ign and Ant Clemons, but at under two minutes, it feels more like a sketch than a song. Clemons reappears on "Water", a tedious bit of muzak that’s partly the reason Jesus Is King was delayed by a day: Kanye tweeted he needed to fix it. Makes you wonder how bad it was beforehand.

It couldn’t have been worse than "God Is", which sounds like it was recorded after Kanye swigged two full litres of milk and declined to clear his throat. His fried, claggy vocals marks the lowest point of his singing career, and that was no mountain to begin with. If you wanted to be generous, you'd say it indicates the immediacy and earnestness of his message. If you wanted to be accurate, you'd say this song is not fit for release.

"Use This Gospel" could have been something special, with a hummable melody and the surprise reunion of Clipse brothers Pusha T and No Malice, not to mention a Kenny G saxophone solo. Good luck getting through all three minutes and thirty-three seconds, thanks to its eardrum-piercing single piano note that’s hammered throughout. Either Kanye forgot how to play the four notes to his other Pusha T collab "Runaway", or he taped the noise that comes from his car when he leaves the lights on. (He’s actually sampling an old Two Door Cinema Club song… and that feels worse, somehow.)

"Follow God" is the only legitimately good cut on Jesus Is King; a stream of consciousness punctuated by Kanye remembering all the times he wasn’t "Christlike". it ends too soon, with a Yeezus­-era scream, and that's the only time I’ll accuse the somehow-only-26-minute Jesus Is King of wrapping up too quickly.

If there’s any relief to be found in Kanye West’s purportedly cathartic (to him) new album, it’s in the knowledge that this period of West’s career won’t last forever, or maybe even to the end of 2020. That’s not speaking to his religious salvation, or fascination with Christianity (which has been a fixture since "Jesus Walks" in 2004). I’m sure it's for real, and I hope it brings him peace. What I'm talking about are the musical and stylistic trends he cycles through on a near-annual basis, and how he uses them to re-tell his familiar narratives. In 2018, he was at his ugliest, donning the red MAGA cap. Now, for the first time in a problematic career that's often rescued by evidence of artistic musical genius, he just plain sounds godawful.

2/5

Jesus Is King is now available to stream.

Header Image: Kanye West