Rapper dissects fame, gangbangs, & himself with pure open honesty Fame can be an interesting characteristic to watch someone progress through. Some people, like, say George Clooney can handle it well, while others like, hm, Amy Winehouse, can’t so much. Some just turn weird with it and Kanye West has certainly walked that route a few times.
His hiatus in Japan after that dumb MTV award thing is over and he’s returned from Hawaii where his new album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy was recorded. He’s been hyping it up releasing music weekly through his GOOD Music series online, type-jousting with “The Today Show” and, for some reason, apologizing to former President George W. Bush for that dumb Katrina thing.
It’s all a perfect lead-in for Fantasy, officially available November 22 on Roc-A-Fella Records. The album is carefully structured to propel you, by spaceship, through the rapper’s psyche as he deals with fame, his unraveling relationship and strong penchant for drugs. He unlatches the door to his mind and spills all this perverted, wasted brain matter everywhere.
When the beat for “Dark Fantasy” drops, a dark magenta sunset appears behind your eyelids and you’re off. It’s classic Kanye: bouncy, orchestral, spiritual, asking, “Can we get much higher?” And you do. Once song one drowns out, song two, “Gorgeous,” bursts right in with bruising purple guitar and, god it feels so good.
He has added another dimension to his musical palette and brought along a gang of friends to help celebrate. RZA, Pete Rock, Madlib, Q-Tip and Swizz Beats all show up on production, while Alicia Keys, Rihanna, Chris Rock, Elton John and Drake are just a few who make cameos.
“Monster” and “So Appalled,” both previously released, take the listener down a dark corroding midnight alleyway. The focus is all on the raps and Jay-Z masters on both songs. He drips like the goop from a cave on “Monster,” right before Nicki Minaj takes off squawking about bank-robbing, so sweetly haunting. Pure doom arrives with the chamber-echoed goblin synths of “So Appalled.” When West mentions the “most fly Prada,” he sounds sick of the tag and the world around him, while Jay-Z shivers with a “Dark Knight feeling.”
West has honed his lyrical skill. No longer are his self-lacerations clunky with name-dropping all the crap he buys – though, that’s still there – but, he’s telling a very personal tale about the messy aftermath of lovers separating. “Devil in a New Dress” softens the mood with a smooch from Smoky Robinson. It’s this album’s “Flashing Lights,” the bittersweet breakdown of a relationship playing itself out. It evolves into a beautiful guitar jam and ends with a diced Rick Ross rap. The fuzzy farting bass of “Hell of a Life” keeps the album from rattling off and drifting. It’s a damn ride through West’s manic mind reduced to a crisp as he propositions, and then marries a porn star in the bathroom.
As exciting as the record is it does come with its faults. Some songs drift on too long with unnecessary outros. The final three minutes of “Runaway” sound like West licking his AutoTuner all over as he copes with loneliness. “All of the Lights” is jam-crammed with guests and West sounds like Li’l Wayne. Not a bad thing, but the chorus explodes with bongos, horns and Rihanna, who you can almost feel. It’s a little overcrowded in the headphones.
Fantasy, however, is one more notch in West’s fascinating journey through music. He continues to take chances like nobody else in pop music today, and that’s bound to cause a few missteps here and there, but one can’t deny the stranglehold he has on his career. Whatever he comes up with is always sure to be worth a listen and a couple head-bobs.
His hiatus in Japan after that dumb MTV award thing is over and he’s returned from Hawaii where his new album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy was recorded. He’s been hyping it up releasing music weekly through his GOOD Music series online, type-jousting with “The Today Show” and, for some reason, apologizing to former President George W. Bush for that dumb Katrina thing.
It’s all a perfect lead-in for Fantasy, officially available November 22 on Roc-A-Fella Records. The album is carefully structured to propel you, by spaceship, through the rapper’s psyche as he deals with fame, his unraveling relationship and strong penchant for drugs. He unlatches the door to his mind and spills all this perverted, wasted brain matter everywhere.
When the beat for “Dark Fantasy” drops, a dark magenta sunset appears behind your eyelids and you’re off. It’s classic Kanye: bouncy, orchestral, spiritual, asking, “Can we get much higher?” And you do. Once song one drowns out, song two, “Gorgeous,” bursts right in with bruising purple guitar and, god it feels so good.
He has added another dimension to his musical palette and brought along a gang of friends to help celebrate. RZA, Pete Rock, Madlib, Q-Tip and Swizz Beats all show up on production, while Alicia Keys, Rihanna, Chris Rock, Elton John and Drake are just a few who make cameos.
“Monster” and “So Appalled,” both previously released, take the listener down a dark corroding midnight alleyway. The focus is all on the raps and Jay-Z masters on both songs. He drips like the goop from a cave on “Monster,” right before Nicki Minaj takes off squawking about bank-robbing, so sweetly haunting. Pure doom arrives with the chamber-echoed goblin synths of “So Appalled.” When West mentions the “most fly Prada,” he sounds sick of the tag and the world around him, while Jay-Z shivers with a “Dark Knight feeling.”
West has honed his lyrical skill. No longer are his self-lacerations clunky with name-dropping all the crap he buys – though, that’s still there – but, he’s telling a very personal tale about the messy aftermath of lovers separating. “Devil in a New Dress” softens the mood with a smooch from Smoky Robinson. It’s this album’s “Flashing Lights,” the bittersweet breakdown of a relationship playing itself out. It evolves into a beautiful guitar jam and ends with a diced Rick Ross rap. The fuzzy farting bass of “Hell of a Life” keeps the album from rattling off and drifting. It’s a damn ride through West’s manic mind reduced to a crisp as he propositions, and then marries a porn star in the bathroom.
As exciting as the record is it does come with its faults. Some songs drift on too long with unnecessary outros. The final three minutes of “Runaway” sound like West licking his AutoTuner all over as he copes with loneliness. “All of the Lights” is jam-crammed with guests and West sounds like Li’l Wayne. Not a bad thing, but the chorus explodes with bongos, horns and Rihanna, who you can almost feel. It’s a little overcrowded in the headphones.
Fantasy, however, is one more notch in West’s fascinating journey through music. He continues to take chances like nobody else in pop music today, and that’s bound to cause a few missteps here and there, but one can’t deny the stranglehold he has on his career. Whatever he comes up with is always sure to be worth a listen and a couple head-bobs.
Best Tracks: “Gorgeous,” “Hell of a Life,” “Devil in a New Dress”
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