Note: This review is for the version of the album available on 28/03/2016. If it's edited even more after this date, I may come back to this review with an update.
In the aftermath of Yeezus, Kanye West's ongoing battle with megalomania took more downward swings. He finally put a ring on Kim Kardashian despite his obvious crush on Beyoncé, he had another kid and gave him a stupid name because of course he would, he jokingly threatened to invade Beck's Grammy award before revealing in an interview afterward that he should have because he didn't respect artistry (yep, that Beck) and so much more that I'm keeping it to this paragraph.
He also kept talking about his new album called Swish like it was going to be the greatest thing in the history of ever.
Swish became Waves, Waves became The Life of Pablo and, after many track listing changes, it's release saw West lose his mind, more than ever before, to the point where even his former colleagues were concerned for his well being.
West isn't the first (nor will he be the last) rapper to hype up his album to such a degree, but the amount of track listings changes, tweaking the album a mere day after release in the so-called name of art has raised an interesting point, perhaps because The Life of Pablo is, surprisingly, West's weakest album lyrically.
The album kicks off with Ultralight Beam, a song that was the cause of the album's initial delay due to it's omission. It opens with a sample of a girl proclaiming love of Jesus in a manner that James Brown from The Blues Brothers would call a tad too much. West finally arrives with the hook before passing the song to Chance the Rapper.
It, unsurprisingly, sets the tone for the first half of the album. The gospel influence has either minor touches to full blows and the proclamations to god seem strange after years of West calling himself god in non-irony. It also, sets the foundations of West being strangely absent on his own album and, even when he's here, his lyrics are often either poor or good, but masked with the dreaded autotune.
Regardless, Ultralight Beam, despite causing the album delay, was worth it. Father Stretch My Hands is split into two parts, despite both parts combined being shorter than Ultralight Beam. West's finally has an memorable line involving bleached assholes and t-shirts before duties are passed off again. He returns in part two with a rap so heavily masked in autotune, the lyrics of horror at becoming his father are lost in the mix.
These are West's only major highlights in terms of lyrics. It's strange to compare The Life of Pablo with Morrissey's World Peace Is None of Your Business (although thinking about it, Morrissey and West are like two sides of the same coin), but West's lyrics are mostly boring and lack substance.
Famous sees him boringly return to the subject of Taylor Swift seven years after he initially went full-retard for Beyoncé. Rihanna's chorus saves the song, although her pronunciation makes it sound like "own candy" instead of "own kin did".
The former title track Waves sees West at a barebones, his opening verse is an uninspired rap about having sex, whilst his second can barely qualify as a rap and instead falls back on sampling Fantastic Freaks. Much like Famous, it falls to his guest vocalist, this time Chris Brown to salvage the song by singing the chorus, delivering a memorable performance with catchy lyrics and I now need a shower for giving him a compliment.
The Life of Pablo's major fault, over than West's lyrics ranging from occasional bite to mediocre chew is the dependence on his guests. At least with Yeezus, West was always at the forefront, whereas here, it's almost like a G.O.O.D. music release, to showcase other stars, except nearly everyone here is an established veteran.
Waves kicks off the second half and is followed by easily the best track on the album FML. More of a continuation of Yeezus, West's lyrics finally allow for fluidity, even managing to play on words and offer an argument of how much his wife means to him (FML means For My Love, to him anyway). Unlike other tracks, despite a very, very strong appearance from The Weeknd, he doesn't overshadow the track and it works together really well, the outro with driving bass and heavily sampled vocals in particular showoff what could have been a great album.
Wolves' initial release was three minute filler with a spooky hook, but the re-release adds much needed menace and retrospectively, not including Sia and Vic Mensa is absolute insanity. Again, it's more a continuation of the production of Yeezus, but with more autotune and religious themes.
Whilst this trilogy of songs is a cluster of excellence, the album slowly goes back to mediocre. A skit involving Max B and French Montana over the then album title Waves kills the momentum stone dead, whilst the André 3000 collaboration 30 Hours is far too long, due to an two minute outro with West taking a scripted phone call for no reason. Kendrick Lammar offers a last hurrah in No More Parties in L.A., even if it's a bit too long, it serves as a far better closing track than what is actually offered.
The album instead ends on a wet fart called Fade. Whilst the beat and sampling are excellent, the verses are atrocious and offer no narrative nor highlights. West himself only makes brief appearances but there's no big finalé; it instead strips back and simply ends.
Surprisingly, despite it's length being shorter than West's masterpiece My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, the album, especially towards the end, drags at an unbearable pace. Add together some ropey production with clipping and a now unhealthy obsession with autotune, lyrics which only occasionally showcase West's talents and constant overshadowing by his guest artists, West is one of the weakest forces on his own album.
Although the first half is an easy ride due to shorter track lengths, there's a lot of unmemorable filler and unmemorable lyrics. The second half, whilst strong for half of it, teeters off and by the end, crashes and burns.
Whilst there are some excellent moments sprinkled throughout, The Life of Pablo is no-where near West's best and instead, shows a strikingly dull rapper who, rather than innovate, lazily depends on his famous friends to pull him out when his own lyrics can't save him.
Still, with another album announced and potential further tweaking, The Life of Pablo may see redemption, but it would take a miracle of biblical proportions to do it.
6/10
H
@Retcon_Nation
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