By Raffaela Kenny-Cincotta, News Staff
In my travels as a college student, I’ve noticed that inebriated 20-somethings can be fairly predictable when it comes to topics of conversation. Movies from the 90s (particularly Space Jam) and the rules of beer pong are crowd favorites, but no subject causes more controversy among millennials than Kanye West. Brought on by a Kanye track playing in the background or an off-hand Kardashian reference, the almighty Yeezus debate can divide rooms of friends quicker than Moses and the Red Sea.
I usually tip-toe the line between the pro- and anti-Kanye camps, declaring my admiration for West with an asterisk. When Kanye West was a fresh-faced Chicago rapper/producer I believe he came out with some of the most well-rounded, innovative rap music on the planet. With something to prove, in 2004 West released his classic debut album “The College Dropout.” The album is unrelentless with hit after hit, and a cohesive theme. In his early work, West followed the hip-hop tradition, producing the tracks himself and rapping about real-life situations like partying, disagreeable landlords and family strife.
You see, hip-hop was created in the late 1970s by impoverished community members channeling their daily struggles into a cathartic creative product. Weaving together breakbeats from dance records and rhythmic poetry, hip-hop became the voice for the voiceless. When West got into a near-fatal car accident in 2002 and rapped the song “Through the Wire” with his jaw surgically wired shut from injuries sustained just two weeks prior, that, my friends, was hip-hop.
As the years passed and West’s career progressed, he became entangled in public relations nightmare after nightmare. Between his televised challenge to President George W. Bush after Hurricane Katrina to his public diss of Taylor Swift, West was no longer perceived as the talented up-and-coming star he once was. Now, he was considered a fire-starter. The fallout from West’s outspokenness caused music fans and the music industry to view him differently and vice versa. From then on, West defined himself as a misunderstood artist ahead of his time, like John Lennon or Kurt Cobain. The angst surrounding his new self-identity manifested itself into a super-inflated ego. West’s new mantra was “Everything I make is brilliant” even when it wasn’t. Instead of rapping about genuine topics like he once did, West turned to making what I call glamour rap, spitting almost exclusively about designer clothes, his own wealth and why he considers himself the best rapper alive.
This past summer, just weeks before West’s most recent album “Yeezus” was leaked to the public, I saw him headline the New York City music festival Governor’s Ball. Closing out the entire festival, he stood on stage and pronounced, “I could give a [expletive] about selling a million records.” That may be true, but the only people who don’t give a crap about selling a million records have probably already sold a million records. With a back catalogue containing some of the best rap verses in the last ten years, West is impervious to criticism so he pushes forward making questionable music and thinking it’s the best he’s ever done. He is talented, but I wish he wasn’t aware of the fact.
Spotlight Playlist: The Artist Formerly Known as Kanye West
“The Good, The Bad, The Ugly” by Kanye West
“The Glory” by Kanye West
“All Falls Down” by Kanye West
“Celebration” by Kanye West
“Last Call” by Kanye West
