Instead of the typical pseudo-definitive ranking of the “Best Albums of 2016,” this December we’re trying something different. The Rutgers Review is bringing you 31 days of our writers’ favorite albums this year, from internationally anticipated releases to local debuts to a few guilty pleasures, without caring what critics have had to say.
Dear Kanye,
I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I wrote this album off for so long. I was disappointed in “No More Parties in LA,” a song that, despite being made by three of the greatest hip-hop artists of this generation, managed to be boring and bland. I was disappointed in your inability to correctly mix your album, to the extent that you had to keep remaking it over and over again. I never did get a Tidal subscription, or even a free trial. Instead, I gave you the benefit of the doubt and waited until you thought the album was done. Even then, I was disappointed, maybe because you actually left “Facts” on the album, or maybe because the first bar you really spit was about a fucking bleached asshole. I’m sorry, though, because I was wrong. The Life Of Pablo is a quality album that may not have been worth the ridiculous release, but is certainly worth the enjoyable listen.
That being said, this album really does have some wholesome crap. The aforementioned “No More Parties in LA” truly is bland; I never thought I’d live to see the day where a beat by Madlib would be so poorly utilized. “Pt. 2” features Desiigner, and I wish I could leave it at that because God damnit Kanye we heard enough of that terrible voice this year, but I can’t ignore this song, it just has so much potential. The return of Kanye’s desire to be liberated along with the awesome samples in the last thirty seconds or so show that this song could have been so good. “Pt. 2” had the potential to live up to its name and be a darker, more sample heavy version of the spectacular track that is “Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 1,” like a blend between it and “Blood on the Leaves.” Instead, it’s a young rapper getting thrust into a spotlight he doesn’t deserve, and Kanye leaving almost everything to be desired. “Siiiiiiiiilver Surffffeeeeer Intermission” is as unnecessarily long as its name, and “30 Hours,” which follows, is not nearly good enough to make me forget how stupid that minute long phone call is. To top it all off, “Facts” making it onto this album is genuinely insulting. No one liked this song when it came out and no one likes it now. I don’t care that it’s the Charlie Heat version, I wouldn’t care if it were the John Lennon version, no one wants to hear Ye rant about how great Adidas is. I just cannot get over how terrible this track is. The worst part of my concert experience at the Meadows wasn’t Kanye leaving halfway into his set, it was him playing the piece of shit that is “Facts” twice. Seriously, how does Kanye fucking West remake a song by Drake and Future and make it worse.
Luckily for us Kanye fans, the remaining songs on The Life Of Pablo are mostly enjoyable and occasionally brilliant. Ye said from the start that he set out to make Pablo his gospel album. At first, he does just this. The album opens with “Ultralight Beam,” a song that starts with a sample of a young girl imitating her preacher and yelling about how much she loves Jesus. The music that ensues is some of West’s best work ever. It’s hard to accurately portray the religious and emotional beauty that “Ultralight Beam” captures; just know that when Kanye proclaims that “this is a God dream,” you as the listener will inevitably be inclined to agree. The minimal production, the perfect utilization of the choir, the utter passion of Kelly Price’s verse, Chance’s peak of his career (“this is my part nobody else speak / this is my part nobody else speak” still makes me smile), it all comes together to make what could easily be called the song of the year. To top it all off, the opener ends with Kanye pulling the beat out from under the vocals, leaving us with only the majestic, echoing choir, which almost sounds desperate as it belts “faith, more, safe, war.”
“Ultralight Beam” is followed by “Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 1,” which begins by sounding like it will continue the religious theme. After lone samples of gospel singers, which also populate the production of the rest of the track, and Future’s infamous tagline for Metro Boomin, in comes Kid Cudi singing about his beautiful morning and Kanye expressing his desire to feel liberated. The religious energy that has pervaded the album to this point is quickly counteracted, however, by one of West’s most infamous lyrics to date: “Now if I fuck this model / and she just bleached her asshole / and I get bleach on my t-shirt / Imma feel like an asshole.” The shocking lines create a vicious juxtaposition with the “God dream” that “Ultralight Beam” proclaims, and the troubled, eclectic mind of Ye shines through yet again. The track then finishes on a beautifully upbeat note, with female vocals singing about this “beautiful morning,” and Cudi and West’s hooks repeated to round it all out.
The second track, which also happens to be the second best, is most important in its ability to shatter the religious tone that Kanye has only just begun creating. This sort of event will happen over and over again throughout the album (see the transitions from “Feedback” to “Low Lights,” from “Waves” to “FML,” and from “30 Hours” to “No More Parties in LA”) creating a listening experience that is often surprising if not entirely jarring. Pablo’s eclecticism has prompted many to call it “Yeezy’s White Album” or even his magnum opus; a collection of all of Kanye’s ideas from his career, wrapped up into nineteen tracks that manage to detail both his life and his artistry. Due to the mediocrity (at best) that you can read about above, the release feels more like a scattered attempt at a variety of styles, but much of it is still done quite well. “Fade,” for instance, is a spectacular banger-style track with a driving baseline, intriguing samples, and typically filtered vocals about love, sex, and other Kanye things. “FML” enticingly embodies the personal approach to fame that West perfected on My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, and includes a great Weeknd feature to boot. “Real Friends” adds to the fame theme with candid lyrics over spectacular production. It was the most promising single that we got before Pablo, with “I’m a deadbeat cousin I hate family reunions / fuck the church up I’m drinking at the communion” sounding like Kanye at his best. On the flipside, tracks like “Famous,” “Waves,” “Highlights,” and the massively underrated “Feedback” (seriously this song is tough) feature that confident Yeezy that we all love, the same one he raps about on “I Love Kanye.”
The Life of Pablo is a mess, but it’s a fun ride with a couple of gems and some quality tracks along the way. Even now, as I fully acknowledge its periodic greatness, I can’t help feeling like it could have been better. Kanye’s seventh studio release is a good one, yes, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s worthy of being considered with his others. I’m hoping for better from Ye in the future, but for now I’m content with his “Ultralight Beam.”