Brilliantly Blunt

As a person who sees himself as someone synonymous with the idea of vanity, Kanye West isn’t the type to hold back. Whether it’s on albums, on national television with Mike Myers, at certain award shows, concerning his style, or with his love life, the grandiose and garish have been intrinsic functions of everything Ye. Which is why it’s surprising to read about how he considers himself a minimalist, and how his forthcoming album, Yeezus, is going to be reflective of that inward-looking view. Last month, he worked with Rick Rubin on stripping away certain elements of Yeezus—elements that in years past probably would’ve been celebrated as being uniquely Kanye (although it’s trivial to speculate on how many opera bridges and extra harmonies were done away with, as we’ll just never know).

Sure, his style is now full of muted tones and a nondescript color palette, but this is the guy who recently dressed like this and this, was responsible for this stage, and hired this many ballerinas for a short film and subsequent concerts. When has Kanye West ever been a minimalist? Is this evolution purely progressive, or is it simply a fresh coat of paint on past art, past emotions, and past swag?

In talking about his past, I’m of course referring to his 808s & Hearbreak era, a time which saw Kanye dress in simple grays and record the most honest and creative music of his career. While it’s not his most critically acclaimed album, 808s is certainly his most impactful. It’s his unaccredited creative magnum opus. It was an album born out of loss, heartache, and the kind of fucked up emotions you can’t understand unless you’ve actually been through them. But all of those emotions were originally rooted in love—a place where, not to sound cliché, the best art comes from (still cliché). The 808s era, with Kanye crafting brutality plain and equally tragic songs like “Say You Will,” “Amazing,” and “See You In My Nightmares,” was the beginning of Minimalist Ye. The songs were sparse, dark, and brilliant.

Shortly after 808s, Kanye interrupted Taylor Swift at the MTV VMAs, and in his words, put out his “backhanded apology” with My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. As he said in the New York Times interview, “I was like: ‘Let me show you guys what I can do, and please accept me back. You want to have me on your shelves.’” Given how his next two albums—Watch The Throne and Cruel Summer—turned out, it’s reasonable to view those two albums as an extension of what was done on Twisted Fantasy, sonically and idealistically. Across those three albums, Kanye begat luxury rap, and began to express his racial politicism in a post-race America more clearly. They weren’t however, his most honest pieces of work, because they were albums to mark his return to triumph and to celebrate those successes. They didn’t connect to something deeper, something more humanistic. Kanye even said about Twisted Fantasy: “That was the album where I gave people what they wanted.”

Given the impact of Yeezus cut “New Slaves,” it’s clear that those ideas are becoming intensified in Kanye’s mind, but they don’t escape the potential impact on Yeezus of Minimalist Ye. Kanye might want to be America’s Marcus Garvey in a black Balmain hoodie, but he’s going to do it through less production, more auto-tune, more Chicago influence (Chief Keef’s Chicago’s poster boy for gang and black-on-black violence through the Fox News lens, but also trap’s nihilistic punk prince, is a confirmed feature on Yeezus), and more raw emotion. Kanye’s in love again, and about to be a father for the first time. The same seed that sprouted 808s has been sewn again for Yeezus, but the fruits should be sweeter and more accessible this time. With that, Yeezus should be Kanye’s strongest work since pre-808s‘ Graduation.

Not only is he in the best artistic space of his career, but he’s currently going through the cleanest album roll-out since Watch The Throne. That album never leaked, and the only single we receieved that made the album before the release date was “Otis,” which is why Watch The Throne was my personal favorite out of the three albums he’s released since 808s. The rush of hearing an album’s worth of new Kanye West music with virgin ears can’t be matched by any other artist in hip-hop, with apologies to Drake and Kendrick Lamar. Given that much of Twisted Fantasy was released through a summer’s worth of G.O.O.D. Friday singles and half of Cruel Summer was released through official singles, we haven’t had many pure first-time listens of Kanye West albums the past few years.

Kanye won’t release a single for Yeezus, and if you’re like me, you’ve ignored all of the Vines and projections of “New Slaves.” Like Justin Timberlake did a few months back, Kanye’s gone from a cryptic tweet to an album in almost two months. There’s been no prolonged roll-out, no changing of release dates, and up until a few days ago, no information about the album itself. Twisted Fantasy‘s G.O.O.D. Fridays, Watch The Throne‘s out of control hype machine, and Cruel Summer‘s summer of singles were all tossed to the wayside for Yeezus‘s nothingness. Kanye The Minimalist went ahead with the no frills, no drama, Angie Martinez-less album release. Outside of his SNL performance of “Black Skinhead,” his Governor’s Ball set, a few random Hudson Mohawke leaks, and the aforementioned projections, we have no idea how Yeezus will sound. On that technicality alone, Yeezus should provide the best album experience since Graduation.

Let the resurrection of Minimalist Ye begin.

It was all G.O.O.D. just a week a couple years ago. This unreleased Kanye-Cons track from the G.O.O.D. glory days just surfaced. Check it out below:

DOWNLOAD: “Hold On (Remix)”

G.O.O.D. Music’s youngest rapper/producer, Travi$ Scott sits down with UK radio personality DJ Semtex to discuss his experience working with Kanye West and the G.O.O.D. Music camp, the success of Cruel Winter, and his upcoming project Owl Pharaoh. Scott also discusses the first “single” for the second G.O.O.D. Music compilation Cruel Winter, which may or may not still be releasing this Winter/Spring.

Pusha-T‘s long awaited and highly anticipated mixtape Wrath Of Caine is finally here. Not only does Pusha lyrically dominate this mixtape, but he also recruits strong features such as Rick Ross,Wale, and French Montana, and scouted top notch production by Kanye West, The Neptunes, B!nk, Young Chop and many others. Wrath Of Caine has been a long time in the making, and is the precursor to Pusha-T’s debut solo album My Name Is My Name, which will be released on Def Jam later this year.  Check out the mixtape below:

DOWNLOAD: Wrath Of Caine (Mixtape)

England. MI6. Tinie Tempah. As a new resident of the United Kingdom—well technically, a “student visitor”—I’ve got plenty of acclimating to do. I’ve been in London for four days now, and I have yet to break out of my jet lagged, zombie-like malaise. I heard somewhere—a phrase that usually preludes information that’s usually myth or made-up—that you need one day of recovery for every hour difference in time you travel. Under that theory, I need five days to get back on my normal sleep and wellness schedule.

I’m really, really, really tired right now.

Throughout the past four days, I’ve managed to get scammed for hundreds of dollars (working with my credit card company to correct this), wander in wrong directions and find myself an hour away from home, spend a small fortune on three beers at a pub, and completely fail at buying the proper electronics to charge my Macbook and set up my iPhone service. I’d like to think that any Suburban Jersey Boy naiveté was wrung out of me after living in New York City for two years—actually, it totally has. I’m going to blame all of my mistakes on my tiredness. Can’t make functional decisions when your body thinks it’s 7 am at lunchtime.

I’m definitely not the only one who would mess up the start of a new life in a new country. In fact, I’m sure of it. Why? Because people have an inherent innocence about themselves, which leads to foolish choices based on a non-existent moral shield from the world. Basically, people fuck up when a hint of cynicism and better thinking could’ve been helpful.

If there’s ever a group of people to struggle to adapt to life in London, it’d be rappers. They have money, egos, crews, and handlers to fall back on, but that safety net can lead to some overly reckless decisions in the first place. Here are 5 Rappers Who Wouldn’t Fare Well In London.

Macklemore
He’d struggle with: Pounds
Congrats to Macklemore, who just landed a #1 song on the Billboard Hot 100, making it the first independently released track to nab that top spot since 2010. Considering the hook to his hit “Thrift Shop” goes “I’ve got $20 in my pocket,” and Macklemore spends his verses rapping about his thrift buys and lamenting the world of expensive designer clothing, I don’t think he’d be too fond of London’s prices. At first, everything seems super cheap—4.85 for a pint, 6.85 for laundry detergent, 15 for a Black Cab, 9 for a pie and mash—until you realize that those prices are in pounds, not dollars, and the conversion rate is almost 2 to 1. Ouch. $20 is £12.66, which would maybe buy Macklemore a set of socks at a London thrift shop.

Honorable mention for struggling with the prices in London: Consequence. His Baby Mama is unemployed, and despite riding around in a Bentley, he struggled to pay for his child’s first birthday party. I wonder when he’ll drop his first album.

Drake
He’d struggle with: Rejection
Last night was my first adventure out on the town, and I came home feeling tired and impaired. There’s a whole new world out there for a 19 year old living in a country where the drinking age is 18. Before coming to the UK, I had heard about the joys of legal pub-hopping from an NYU friend of mine. He visited some friends in London over Thanksgiving, and came back with tales of drunken debauchery. One story, however, was less than flattering. He and his group of friends were dancing at a club, and across the dance floor, there was another group of girls dancing with themselves. My friend, who was woefully underdressed compared to the proper suit and tie get-up of club-going British males, decided that he’d make he way over to those girls later in the night. A few drinks would be needed to build some confidence.

Instead, only minutes later, one of those girls took it upon herself to become an ambassador for her friends. She walked right up to my friend, and told him that she and her friends didn’t want to dance with his friends. My buddy got rejected without even asking first. It was a scaring moment, but the cut would’ve been deeper had it happened to Drake.

We’ve actually seen a similar situation happen to him:

If Aubrey was in my friend’s shoes, he would have an entire album’s worth of material to record. It’d be simp-tastic.

Hit the jump to read about the 3 remaining Rappers Who Wouldn’t Fare Well In London.

2012 was something of a musical awakening for me. I was exposed to more music than ever before, and I opened my ear to sounds, artists, and styles that I wouldn’t have given a chance in 2011. For too long, I limited myself in the music I chose to listen to, and the music that I chose to enjoy. I realized that not every song has to have some sort of life-altering purpose or politically twisted message—there’s nothing wrong with liking a song because it’s fun as fuck to get dressed to, or because it only sounds good when you’re drunk. I’m comfortable enough with my taste to admit that Lupe Fiasco’s latest album sucked, EDM has a legitimate place in hip-hop, Young Chop is the DJ Premier of my generation, and Future is one of the best at finding melodies.

By now, you probably figured out that I listened to a lot of trap music and pop in 2012, and I did. And you know what? I’ve never enjoyed music more. It’s okay to genuinely love Justin Bieber’s new album, Lil Durk’s last mixtape, and Kendrick Lamar’s debut album all at the same time.

Without ranting any further, I now present my songs of 2012. This Spotify playlist I made covers all 50 tracks I deemed worthy, so sit back, and enjoy my tastes of 2012:

A few songs, however, are so good that they need to be recognized individually. Hit the jump to read about my Top 5 Songs of 2012.

Last night, Kanye West and Co. hit Madison Square Garden for ’12/12/12: The Concert For Sandy Relief’. Yeezy’s 20-minute set included all of the essential Ye’ classics, as well as some of his newer tracks, such as his remix to Rihanna‘s “Diamonds” (10:40). As per usual, Kanye’s setlist and performance were energetic and filled with raw emotion.
Virgil Abloh, one of the essential creative minds in Ye’s camp, mixed in some very rare #BEEN #TRILL drops during “All Of The Lights.” Kanye was also rocking one of Virgil’s Pyrex Vision hoodies from the upcoming Spring/Summer 2013 line. Peep a preview of Virgil’s collection below:

I hope Kanye West calls his next solo album The Dress, because my two favorite post-808s tracks from ‘Ye have been about a female’s dress. Both “Devil In A New Dress” and “White Dress” are two expansive soul beats that would’ve had 2004 Kanye going nuts, and both feature the kind of honest, endearing Kanye that seems to have died right as ThroneYe was being born. “Devil In A New Dress” details his torment with his girl of the moment, while on “White Dress,” Kanye is clearly infatuated with his new woman—I want to say he’s got a bout of Puppylove, but imagining Kanye and Kim Kardashian sharing a plate of spaghetti like Lady and the Tramp is upsetting for reasons I won’t get into.

Hit the jump to continue reading.

Cruel Summer has finally arrived, and without a week to spare—the fall equinox is this Saturday. (I’m sure Kanye was aware that if he named the album “Cruel Fall,” nobody would take it seriously.) In reality, Cruel Summer landed in everyone’s iTunes last Wednesday night, just a few days before its official release. Now that the Internets have had less than a week to listen to the album, the reviews are flying in, and judging from my Twitter timeline, people have either been disappointed (an opinion brought forth by cynics/fake bloggers who are overvaluing their opinion to seem cool), or elated (felt by people who’d would buy three physical copies of Cruel Summer along with both the clean and dirty versions on iTunes, just because of Kanye). The median opinion has been a solid “meh.”

Every album review I’ve ever penned has followed the same style. I want them to read as if they were printed in Rolling Stone or the New York Times—they’re not just some track-by-track rundown or quick blog entry. I take album reviews seriously, and the tone of my reviews matches my attitude. I’ve decided to forgo that style for this review, because my album listening experience for Cruel Summer is unlike any other album I’ve tried to synthesize.

The only comparable experience to Cruel Summer is Kanye West’s last solo album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. This isn’t to say that the two are equals (they’re not), but that the manner in which I listened to them was similar. Before My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy came out in full, six of the album’s fourteen cuts were already released in some form or another thanks to G.O.O.D. Fridays, and the remainder of the album was previewed as a part of the “Runaway” soundtrack, which pre-dated the album’s release.

“Cold,” “Mercy,” “I Don’t Like,” “New God Flow,” and “Clique” all came out as singles before Cruel Summer leaked—that’s 5/12 of the album right there. Over the course of the past five months, we’ve had time to digest, and frankly get tired of, every single one of those songs. Music is so over-saturated, yet is consumed at such a frenetic pace—what’s new and hot today is literally forgotten tomorrow.

I wouldn’t be surprised if a decent percentage of Cruel Summer listeners are already through with listening to the album—not because it’s not good, but because they’ve simply moved on already. Given that nearly half of the album was given to us prior to the full leak,, it’s no surprise that the whole album feels old when it hasn’t even hit stores yet—”Cold,” “I Don’t Like,” “Mercy,” and “New God Flow” spent all summer getting played out. I don’t think people are disappointed with the album because it didn’t live up to their standards, because if the entire project was released at the same time, listeners would be losing their minds trying to process “Mercy” and “To The World” at once. Careful sequencing can give old singles new life on albums, but when four of the six opening tracks are singles, it makes them four easy skips to get to the fresh material.

I spent the better part of my weekend trying to focus in on the music, and not the context in which it was released. Overall, my listening experience wasn’t as special as it should’ve been, because nearly half the album is old to me. Given how much I’ve been anticipating Cruel Summer, it’s disappointing, but I didn’t want that to get in the way when placing judgement upon it.

What I uncovered was an outstanding group rap album. It’s important to remember that Cruel Summer was a collaborative effort. Kanye may have been ultimately calling all of the shots (he has production credits on 2/3 of the album), but it lacks that Kanye Factor, because it’s not purely a Kanye album. I can’t explain what that “Kanye Factor” is exactly, but anyone familiar with all of his albums knows what I mean. If I were to loosely define the Kanye Factor, I’d say that it’s a left-field quality that makes his albums sound different, and totally unlike anything else in hip-hop. It’s what makes them Kanye albums.

Hit-Boy contributed three tracks, and Hudson Mohawke of the EDM group TNGHT had credits on four. EDM has rapidly been infecting hip-hop and RnB, and just like on Watch The Throne, Kanye was able to tastefully incorporate elements of the genre into hip-hop productions, with the beat-switch during Kanye’s verse in “Mercy” being the best example. (Hudson Mohawke is from the UK, which explains why G.O.O.D. Music spent so much time recording in London.)

Cruel Summer, like the past three most notable posse albums (MMG’s Self Made Vol. 1 and 2, Young Money’s We Are Young Money, and DJ Khaled’s Kiss The Ring), is full of anthems, as opposed to songs that blend together to achieve an overarching theme. “To The World” features R. Kelly at his hilariously inappropriate best: “The whole world is a couch, bitch I’m Rick James tonight”; “Clique” makes it acceptable for any group of friends to roll deep into any spot, regardless of the capacity limit; “The One” may be a little corny, but it’s uplifting Sunday morning music. “Mercy,” “Cold,” and “I Don’t Like” remain as ignorant and special as ever. Religious concepts akin to “No Church In The Wild” were explored through “Sin City”‘s allusions to Sodom and Gomorrah: “We broke all the commandments.” “Higher” is hip-hop’s first attempt at Arabian twerk music—imagine Priya Rai or Princess Jasmine throwing it back at you to The-Dream’s verse.

Given the amount of placements everyone got, (Kanye had eight features, Pusha T had five, Big Sean had four, and 2 Chainz had three), it’s clear who Kanye thought was the best rapper in the Clique not named Kanye. (Side note: why CyHi had more features than Common is curious to say the least.) Pusha T delivered on every single verse, and rapped circles around Kanye overall, despite having three less opportunities to do so. That’s not a knock on Kanye—he wasn’t rapping at nearly his highest level, but that’s still better than 98% of rappers out there. Nobody was ever going to out-rap Pusha T on this album. He was that determined. His intensity, delivery, flow, and lyricism was unmatched.

The only solo song on Cruel Summer was Kid Cudi’s “Creepers.” It’s as genuine of a Kid Cudi song as he’s ever recorded. “Creepers” sounds like it should be on a future Man on the Moon album, but doesn’t sound like it could’ve been on the previous two, which is exciting for Kid Cudi fans. Cudi mixes in his classic sing-song flow with an aggressive delivery. One line in particular projects a certain confidence in how he feels about himself as a rapper: “If I had one wish it’d be to have more wishes—DUH / Fuck tryin’ to make it rhyme.” It’s a charismatic side to Kid Cudi that seldom shines, and he sounds totally comfortable with it. On an album full of massive, anthemic songs, Kid Cudi stayed true to himself and crafted the best track of them all.

Everyone has different expectations for albums. Anytime Kanye West’s name is attached to anything at all—whether it be a song, album, product, magazine, or movie—people expect the way more than what’s possible for mortals to attain. What’s made Kanye so special, is that for the better part of his career, he’s managed to exceed every expectation of what he can create. When he calls himself the “God of Rap” on “To The World” it’s not a boast—it’s just fact. Even the God of Rap, however, can’t stay Zeus-in’ it all the time. To his fans and critics, he’s cursed by unlimited potential. Cruel Summer might be the worst album he’s ever had his name on, but as far as group albums go, it has plenty to offer. As opposed to an album with emotional peaks and valleys, G.O.O.D. Music has delivered 12 songs to spend your Saturday night with. I’ll take that any season of the year. Just pretend like you never heard “Cold,” “Mercy,” “I Don’t Like,” “New God Flow,” and “Clique” before listening.

Cruel Summer earns 3 blunts, so twist one up and stomp on a couch like RICK JAMES TONIGHT.

“Oh God!”

Cruel Summer hits stores September 18th.

DOWNLOAD: “Clique”