My Uncomplicated Feelings About Kanye West

Friday is fun (usually). Because there’s music and a playlist. Today is a bit of a rant (sorry/not sorry). And there’s absolutely still a playlist (or two). Cheers!

Kanye West is always in social media’s version of the news – and from there he’s in the actual news too; since the news media is social media’s graveyard. A decade ago it was the opposite, but as proud-minded as many journalists can hope to be, they are working for dirt-rags desperate for clicks and they get their kicks by finding stories for free since they are woefully under resourced and it’s all a big chicken/egg thing anyway, because none of us want to pay for anything if we can help it.

Kanye West was once, briefly, an important musician. If you have no facility for hip-hop you won’t think so at all. And your opinion won’t mean anything. And that is never nice to hear. But it’s also a case of facts. I don’t go to my plumber for information about my finances, I don’t ask my doctor if it’s the right time to re-mortgage, and I don’t want some geriatric fart that still thinks only The Stones are the greatest or a K-Pop loving tween telling me that hip-hop isn’t music.

It’s been the most interesting, expressive, important and socially, politically impactful musical force of the last 40 years. And the best of it is still mind blowing to me.

Kanye West has had a significant hand in that. Primarily as a producer. He helped create some amazing work for Jay-Z, Alicia Keys and Janet Jackson, among others. And his solo debut, The College Dropout, nearly 20 years old was pioneering and important.

But it was very quickly a case of rinse and repeat, as far as I’m concerned. Album two a poor copy of the first, album three weaker than that. But like horror movie sequels there were still some charms. And you hang on for a bit because you’re there for the sniff of a leftover taste of the first visceral thrill. You’re there for fading reminders.

I have a 10 year old son that loves Kanye West. And that’s a good thing for him to work through since he’s a hip-hop fan, becoming a real student. He loved Eminem first, which feels natural at his age and stage. But he has gone back to dig into Public Enemy, NWA, Beastie Boys and many other things. He’s still learning. And always loving. He’s into lots of modern names, he has plenty of legacy/heritage acts still to discover.

And a while ago I shared a playlist here that Oscar made for me – I’ll share it again.

He calls it “Krazy Kanye” not as any slur or comment on West’s mental health. He named it that because he thinks Kanye is “crazy-good” and the K makes it quirky and alliterative. I told him that words have several meanings and conversations about Kanye always involve or allude to mental health.

It’s been interesting.

I’ve always thought that you can like whatever art you like and the behaviour of the artist does not factor into the feelings of how you enjoy their particular artistic expression. History can show you visual artists that were murderers, their paintings still hang in galleries, and the little title card that tells you what paint was used doesn’t always tell you they were locked away as a result of something they did unconnected to making the work.

J.K. Rowling is a piece of shit with outmoded views – she is toxic and hurtful. But she helped a generation to read. And that’s not nothing. It’s just sad to think that some of the people she helped she’s now trying to deny. That’s a complicated situation. And I’m glad I always thought she was a shithouse writer – it means I haven’t lost anything. I weep for those that have had to reevaluate how they feel about a person that gave them so much. But I’m lucky to be old enough, ugly enough and detached enough to not have to fight that fight.

And it’s a bit the same for me with Kanye. Whatever quick thrill he offered to me was gone while he was still valid.

I was telling my son just recently that when College Dropout was released I got an advance copy of it to review for the newspaper. Cue conversation about how advance copies used to work, what they were and why they were needed. Shorthand of it: I was perhaps among the first in New Zealand to hear and hold the album. And that was its own brand of currency for a time. Nothing at all to boast about – but kinda funny to look back on now and kinda interesting at the time.

Oscar was in awe. He thought that pretty rad. And fair enough. Though he’d die to hear the word ‘rad’ being used I’m sure.

He asks me how I fell out of love with Kanye, how I lost interest. And it happened overnight. Essentially.

I saw him play live. Just did some digging and found a link to the review. I don’t often read back the things that I wrote from that time but had a quick look and I don’t find those words embarrassing. Perhaps the only thing I think is a little unfair is me saying that history will remember Kanye much like they will Puff Daddy. That seems unfair to Puffy. (I’ve been listening back to some of P. Diddy’s music lately, the name-changing always bugged me but the best of his work is a lot better than I ever gave it credit for).

Anyway, I saw Kayne at the turning point I think. His music was weaker, but it was the way he broke up the set to tell the audience, Trump-like, of his own brilliance. To point out how great he actually was without ever deigning to show it.

I was done.

I’ve listened to a few of the albums since, and there are some moments, no doubt. But I can’t hear that much that’s good in it. And a part of that, now, is absolutely because I don’t like Kanye West: The Man. Never mind The Artist. I don’t believe him. And I can’t accept that his behaviour – petulant, embarrassing – is that of an evolved adult, let alone one with the means and following to do what he likes, to have more meaning and impact on this world than I could ever even dream of (though most of my dreams are about horror movies and the stories I’d love to be able to write).

There’s this whole thing to add in about mental health. Kanye is unwell. He is – you will hear – publicly fighting a battle against his own mental health. It’s a bad thing to mock that, to argue against it in any way, blame the victim, seem uncaring, mock or belittle his chemical imbalance.

But when you’re an influencer and you make threats that people should die, should kill themselves, wear White Lives Matter slogans, I wonder if the conversation needs to shift beyond just the weak defence that Kanye has mental health issues. He has access to finer services than anyone. But he is addicted to fame and adulation and was long ago drunk on the power of having a voice in public; so sure he could be a wind-up artist.

But he’s not bright, he is not looking after himself and he’s not a musician I want to listen to – both because of those things and completely separate from them.

Oscar has been following some of this, doing his own research into Kayne and his mental health struggles. I’ve heard him say that he loves Kanye West – and when he tells people that now he adds, “as a rapper and producer – not as a human being”. I didn’t ever think such caveats were needed, since he doesn’t know him as a human being, he knows him as a rapper and producer. But I like that he’s saying that. It shows some awareness I think. He’s made that call that Kanye’s behaviour is not aspirational but the music maybe still is.

So I like that about where Oscar is at – a place he has arrived by himself.

We are on our final day of a family holiday and we are about to pack the car and head north for a bit. We pick an album each and Oscar said to me that he’d liked to listen to Kayne’s College Dropout.

I’m kinda looking forward to it. It’ll be my first time hearing it in ages. Absolutely years. I have fond enough memories of its finest moments, and the added nostalgia now of remembering that I was fairly early on the scene hearing it as a New Zealand reviewer for a national publication back in 2004.

So we’ll listen to it. I’ll be silently analysing whether it stands up in any way. And doing my best to not think about whatever inane verbal atrocity Kanye has uttered since I last Googled him, or had the mild frustration of someone whispering about him or shouting at him in a feed.

I’d just like him to go away for a bit.

And perhaps I could take him seriously if, after that, he returned with something musical that he actually meant. Those first recordings felt vital, had an energy, like everything actually mattered.

Anyway, that’s my feelings on Kanye. I find it very easy to determine him a nonsense, a write-off, pesky, juvenile, wind-up artist gone wrong. Offensive clod trading on a name that now has no real musical value whatsoever, but will carry with it forever a legacy of having once been an important – if fleeting – voice in hip-hop

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I’ll listen to Kanye and maybe I’ll like it, maybe I won’t. I’ll follow it up with my selection. The new Avantdale Bowling Club album. That’s an example, for me, of an artist evolving, growing. And still making brilliant music.

Happy weekend to you all, and thanks for reading – if you made it to the end.

Here’s the regular playlist. Which has nothing whatsoever to do with Kanye West. And is a rather sombre and low-key, ambient, moody sort of a playlist this week.

As always, I hope you hear something in here new to you that you might like.

And all the best to you and yours as we carry on through.