My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

What is there left to say about Kanye West? He is widely accepted as a self-indulgent, egomaniacal narcissist, a self-proclaimed genius, and a loud-mouthed fireball who transcends pop and rap as something entirely unique. After media debacles and subsequent apologies to Taylor Swift and George W. Bush, it seems that West is taking steps to repair his heavily damaged reputation and, at first glance, to reinvent himself in a slightly more favorable public light. West was lampooned on South Park and Saturday Night Live, as well as being called a jackass by President Obama, so after spending some time as public enemy number one for most entertainment journalists, one would think that Kanye might be humbled by the experience. Although his public comments might indicate something to that effect, his new album is virtually the exact opposite. On My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, his fifth studio release, West embraces everything about his personality that brought him infamy in the past few years while simultaneously silencing critics in a sweeping, grandiose, and unrelenting triumph for popular music.
West spent several months in Hawaii getting away from civilization to record Fantasy with assistance from producers and artists from across the spectrum of rock, hip-hop, and R&B, including Pete Rock, Jay-Z, RZA, John Legend, Kid Cudi, and James Vernon, better known by his stage name Bon Iver and obviously the biggest head-scratch appearance on the record. From the opening choral vocals overlapping the intro on “Dark Fantasy,” it’s clear that West is shooting for something that hasn’t been done before and is refusing to compromise his creative vision for anything. Male and female vocalists soar in unison, inquiring, “Can we get much higher?” before a simple hip-hop beat lets West display his lyrical chops: “Mercy mercy me, that Murcielago / that’s me the first year that I blow / How you say broke in Spanish? Me no hablo / Me drown sorrow in that Diablo / Me found bravery in my bravado.” Here we find Yeezy tracing his whole career beginning with his skyrocket to fame, to his battle with depression, finally ending with an affirmation of what we’ve known all along; West is his own biggest critic, as well as his biggest fan. By recognizing his less attractive qualities but refusing to change them, West is asserting himself as an enigmatic but undeniable force in the game.
Several songs strike back at West’s naysayers and take aim at more political issues than we’re used to him tackling. Throwing barbs at racial profiling in modern society on “Gorgeous,” West spits through distortion over a soulful electric guitar hook that follows the melody, “Face it, Jerome get more time than Brandon / And at the airport they check all through my bag and tell me that it’s random.” He goes on to threaten, “Choke a South Park writer with a fishstick / I insisted to get up offa this dick,” a clear and unveiled reprisal. First single “Power” starts with handclaps and a vaguely tribal vocal line, as well as a sample of King Crimson’s “21st Century Schizoid Man.” West openly states, “Fuck SNL and the whole cast / Tell ‘em Yeezy said to kiss my whole ass,” but becomes more introspective as he remarks, “They say I was the abomination of Obama’s nation / Well that’s a pretty bad way to start the conversation.” Although this reveals a glimpse at a sad sort of self-consciousness, West is unconcerned with his detractors and lets his musical arrogance speak for itself, as clearly evidenced by lines like “I don’t need your pussy, bitch / I’m on my own dick.”
“All of the Lights” features a change of pace to something much more upbeat, with driving toms and blaring horns, as well as a beautiful hook from Rihanna, a verse from Fergie, and a sample by Alicia Keys. Curious on a track dominated by Rihanna, West ironically muses on the side-effects of fame and his sometimes violent relationships with women: “I slapped my girl, she called the feds / I did that time, I spent that bread.” West’s chorus finds him accepting his status as a superstar for better or worse, mentioning “Cop lights, flash lights / Spotlights, strobe lights, street lights / Fast life, drug life / Thug life, rock life / Every night.”
Kanye harkens back to more straightforward hip-hop on “Monster” and “So Appalled,” albeit with a much weirder twist. “Monster” employs a beat that would feel right at home on a Clipse album except for Justin Vernon’s sporadic and distorted vocals. Featuring verses from Jay-Z, Rick Ross, and Nicki Minaj, the latter really steals the track with her elastic delivery and dominating presence. “So Appalled” ebbs and flows with buzzing synthesizers and strings that burn underneath the stylings of West, Jay-Z, Pusha T, Prynce CyHi, RZA, and Swizz Beats. Both songs clock in at a little over six minutes, so it’s difficult to see these less experimental tracks becoming club bangers, but each track gives the MC’s enough breathing room to produce something truly impressive.
West leans on his signature technique of speeding up old blues and soul samples on “Devil in a New Dress,” with staccato strings and funky guitar strums. The song unfolds slowly with several instrumental breaks in between Kanye’s discussion of his own religious faith and its interactions with girlfriends and his high speed lifestyle: “Oh she do it, what happened to religion? / Oh she lose it, she putting on her make up / She casually allure, text message break-up, the casualty of tour.” It’s obvious that West harbors some unresolved feelings from his time recording 808’s and Heartbreak, and he chooses an apt musical accompaniment for this outlet.
“Runaway” features some of the best and worst moments on the album. Eerie piano plinks lead into a bass-heavy boom-bap beat that is surprisingly minimal as West gets disarmingly honest and self-deprecating. Perhaps the most capable display of singing talent West has given so far in his career, he croons, “Never was much of a romantic / I could never take the intimacy / And I know it did damage / ‘Cause the look in your eyes is killing me.” The song is stripped-down and emotionally bare, and we all know to whom Kanye is referring when he says, “Let’s have a toast for the jerk-offs / That’ll never take work off.” Yet the track also features arguably the biggest misstep on the album, an unintelligible, three-minute Vocoder solo that doesn’t go anywhere, merely dragging on for an agonizingly long time.
“Hell of a Life” best showcases Kanye’s sardonic wit and humor over fuzzy bass, lightning fast keyboard trills, and a hook ripped off from Black Sabbath’s “Iron Man” splashed with a healthy but capable dose of auto-tune. West mulls over the sexual realities of fame, jeering, “No more drugs for me / Pussy and religion is all I need” in between thoughts about falling in love with porn stars and various gasps and shrieks that not-so-subtlely reference the female orgasm.
John Legend provides the sadly sensual chorus on “Blame Game,” a beautiful but disconcerting track that unfortunately suffers from the same disease as “Runaway.” West breaks down and airs a significant amount of dirty laundry from a past relationship, discussing infidelity, late night shouting matches, and scheming manipulations. Pitch distortions pepper the verses, making West’s monologue reflect his internal conflict, as he appears to be arguing with himself in several different voices. West bears his true feelings, repeating “I can’t love you this much,” before Chris Rock performs a dark, twisted, and hilariously vulgar rendition of an accidental phone call West supposedly overheard from the female in question. While obviously very personal for Kanye, at two and a half minutes, the track once again drags on in cringe-worthy fashion.
“Lost in the World” brings back Bon Iver for a reinterpretation of his entirely Vocoder/Auto-Tuned track “Woods,” here sped up and rerecorded as a soaring dance song with occasionally tribal rhythms. West takes a backseat and let’s the beat pop and sizzle in its own majesty before the song flows into “Who Will Survive in America,” which samples Gil Scott-Heron’s “Comment #1,” a piece of spoken-word poetry with revolutionary and black nationalist leanings.
To put it simply, Kanye West pushed the envelope in every possible manner, both personally and musically as a rapper, producer, and songwriter. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is at times manic, weird, inspiring, and moving but it is almost always enthralling. West has gathered all the emotion, turmoil, and negativity in his life together, combined it with his unapologetically arrogant swagger, and turned it into what will probably go down as the best hip-hop album of the past decade.