Kanye new album
Hearing this billionaire wallow in self-pity (“Everything that you do good, it just go unnoticed,” West complains on Jesus Lord) or claim he’s anti-commercial (on Keep My Spirit Alive) reveals his lack of self-awareness, and means the big emotional moments – such as pondering whether death will finally reunite him with his mother or buckling under the strain of divorce (“Cussin at your baby mama / guess that’s why they call it custody”) – don’t fully connect. Like a lot of West’s post- Life of Pablo work, these songs feel stitched together and rushed. West repeats “I know God breathed on this” like he’s running through potential $350 T-shirt slogans with his marketing manager. He does the same thing on God Breathed, a trap anthem to prosperity (“I don’t care about the lawyer fees … God will solve it all for me”) that marries Christian transcendence with the rush of a rave. Here, he lethargically repeats the question “guess who’s going to jail?” without ever really landing on what he’s implying it could easily be read as a moan about cancel culture. In the past, he had sharp punchlines – “Face it, Jerome get more time than Brandon” he rapped in 2010, deftly highlighting racial inequality in the US justice system while also getting a laugh for using racial stereotypes to do so. But the song’s melody meanders and West’s lyrics feel blunted. Over the slightly flat dad-rock riffs of Jail, West is reunited with his Watch the Throne partner Jay-Z, who boasts that he convinced his longtime foil to give up the red Maga cap. But too often the songs that follow are built on half-baked ideas from a West more concerned with self-pity and martyrdom than confronting his contradictions. The intro, Donda Chant, a sequence of eerie recitations of his mother’s name seemingly designed to send you into a sunken place, is arresting, giving you the impression you’re about to undergo an immersive religious experience. With the eventual release of Donda (named after West’s English professor mother, who died in 2007), there is a nagging sense the spectacle has overshadowed the actual music, with this bloated 108-minute album rarely sure of what it is trying to say.
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Much like kindred spirit Donald Trump, West seems to instinctively know how to weaponise controversy to drive interest in a new project. Fans called West a genius capable of creating exciting theatre that evolves in real time others saw him as an empty provocateur. The coverage of the events has focused on Kim Kardashian dressed as a Balenciaga-clad sleep paralysis demon, $50 chicken tenders, potential Drake disses, levitation and cameos from alleged rapist Marilyn Manson and the homophobic DaBaby. C haotic preview events for Kanye West’s 10th studio album Donda have dominated social media feeds in recent weeks, each one promising a release date that never materialised.