1. “On Sight” | Vintage acid backing track that will sound fresh—”black new wave” as Kanye puts it—to hip-hop fans who don’t accept or explore other genres. With their Music Marketing in 2013 dogsbody Random Access Memories fading fast in pop’s rear-view mirror, Daft Punk will, going forward, be known more for their wardrobe, stagecraft and celebrity endorsements. Which is a pity, because by my watch, “Emotion” was one of the best tracks of the 2000s.
Daft Punk are here to legitimize Kanye West with the EDM crowd, because EDM is the order of the day. It’s sadly that simple. The duo paint the first half of Yeezus with every color in the Universal Indicator rainbow, with the Joyrex tape and AFX EPs. “On Sight” in particular owes much to the fifth track on Universal Indicator Green, which Richard D. James recorded in 1992. “AFX2” is in there as well; it’s as if Kanye is prepping society for a future that sounds like “Entrance to Exit” twenty years after it was first released.
As noted a few weeks ago, the hard-cut gospel choir dropout didn’t clear, but Kanye, being rich, paid another choir to replicate it exactly, and equalized the result to approximate the original loop. He can afford to manufacture authenticity; it’s a fair play. This move has a curious precursor, however: the dropout in Aphex Twin’s “Isopropophlex” (at 4:15).
Aphex Twin opened his career with a cynical techno remix of the Pac-Man theme. I’m not here to bury Kanye or Daft Punk with his impeccable reputation, because he doesn’t have one. 26 Mixes for Cash is the original “HOLIDAY SEASON” but in 2013, RDJ is almost totally unknown to pop music fans, while neophyte producers are flat-out leveled on first exposure to his expert knob-twiddling.
2. “Black Skinhead” | Desiccated drum thuds and heavy nods to Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus,” both melodically and structurally. Probably intentional given the album title, but so overt as to warrant a written explanation. The case for Gary Glitter’s trademark is too thin—I doubt it, full-stop, as an influence on anything Kanye West has done—but Rubin’s afoot, and the droning guitar-like waves, in proximity to that thumping stutter, made me debate it.
Once the sub-bass comes in at the one-minute mark, a vocal sample blares underneath the beat—given the “c00n” verse and shots at Kendrick Lamar/Gunplay, this of course has roots going back before funk to Delta Blues (you can ring Mandy Rock-like for more on that)—but the continued acid distortion on the bass warble brought AFX’s “Elephant Song” to mind as I drove around blasting it for the fifth time. The most locked-in and convincing delivery on the album, by far.
3. “I Am a God” | Three songs in and we’ve got substantial rhyme issues. Ye has now paired “shyt” with “shyt,” “God” with “God,” and “you” with “you.” The massage/restaurant/croissants triplet halfway through this is so weak they have to destroy the track and rebuild it again (a great call; it saves the piece). The requisite “swagger” here is forced and phony, and not at all borne out in the content or context of the lyrics.
4. “New Slaves” | The album’s overt roots in Daft Punk’s acid techno bins don’t help sell this rip of mid-period “Goon Gumpas” RDJ. Also check “Corrugated Tubing“ (and find a proper rip); its cast-iron bass and drum thrum make the rounds on more “production notes” mixes than you’d expect.
I’ve already excised and looped Frank Ocean’s breathtaking psych-soul finale for twelve minutes; it’s a positively spiritual alignment of influences that deserves an album’s worth of exposition.
5. “Hold My Liquor” | Smack in the middle of the record, where it should be, we get the Soul-Baring Narrative that reminds us Mr. “I Am God” is still just heartbroken Yeezy from the block. [PITCHFORK REVIEW EXTRACT] “At 5:27, and featuring both Chief Keef and Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon, this shyt better be good. Takes a minute to get there, but ‘Liquor’ definitely delivers.”
Could have called it “Ms. U,” though, something nerdy and clever, considering the Amber drama that’s sure to overshadow what might be the most daring piece of production on Yeezus. Thankfully, “Liquor“‘s syrupy auto-tune intro comes back around, but the left-channel squeal in the first verse was a major distraction for me, because it sounds like the ending of “Block Rockin’ Beats.” I spent half an hour sourcing that memory echo to find I was wrong, that it’s just a coincidence. The Fripp/Eno sky-saw synths are tone-poem perfection, but the final movement is a shocking Ctrl-C Ctrl-V of Moby’s “Heaven” that doesn’t play well at all. I’ve a bad feeling Yeezus has walked farther down the ambient-house boulevard than his flock will follow.
In closing, “You love me when I’m hungover” is the best line on this record by a nautical mile and should be a t-shirt.
6. “I’m In It” | Whatever hopes I had for this disc are both realized and dashed in “I’m In It,” which is wildly open-eared and stylistically irreverent, but lyrically, cretin-level sub-moronic. Using “Free at last” to describe a woman “letting her titties out,” and backing that up with straight collard-greens racism—eatin’ Asian p*ssy/ all I need [is] sweet n’ sour sauce—is fukking Krazee-Eyez Killa territory. How can a thirty-six year old multimillionaire who name-dropped Le Corbusier in a fawning New York Times profile piece, who works for and with the biggest names in popular music, be allowed to loose shyt this puerile from his isolation booth. Spielberg called MJ out on “Jew me! Kike me!” Here’s hoping George Takei knocks Ye on his ass in the middle of Times Square, gets right in his face and bellows, “WORLDSTAR, bytch.”
7. “Blood on the Leaves” | How is a song this good on an album this weak? As openly stated, it’s a licensed duet co-opting the greatest cover of one of the greatest songs ever recorded, but I can’t deny Kanye West—impossibly—delivers on the advantage he’s taken. Which is to say Kanye is probably one of seven people on the planet who could get entire passages of “Strange Fruit” cleared, and I suspect he’s the only one who could deliver a result.
This is a personal rather than critical observation, and given the title I laugh at such an incredibly obvious and facile comparison, but I didn’t even realize it as it came to me. Hearing this song was much like absorbing the unfolding ecstasy of DJ Shadow’s “Blood on the Motorway.” It’s an exposition of one artist’s unique talents, a compound second act that not only reaffirms their established, recognized powers in one grand gesture, but adds to a legend only they could divine how to improve upon.
The Inception horn grain he wrings from TNGHT’s brass hits is terrifically powerful; it’s an Important Song, though the critical dialog around it is likely to focus on the subjective abortion message (and it ends flat, on a too-purple Lil’ Wayne note). Still, all the acid/EDM nonsense Daft Punk was supposed to cosign is gone, forgotten, and in the face of this epic, revealed as a failed makeover. This is what Kanye West can do that nobody else can. He doesn’t get here often, but he’s the only one that knows the way. Or can hear the directions.
8. “Guilt Trip” | Surprisingly strong sonic bed, which you’d need to follow “Blood on the Leaves,” but the arrangement is too cerebral, stuck in Cudi’s kaleidoscope. The chorus incantation is beautiful and ominous, but Kanye’s verse in particular is rank cheese. Star Wars, Zulu, Big Poppa, and “I’m the new Shabba”? Ye, there will never be another Shabba. Record really falls off a cliff here, because if you thought this was phoned in…
9. “Send it Up” | This doesn’t even belong on the album. Not on any album. King Louie shows up for Kanye West, but Gesaffelstein doesn’t have a track ready. Nothing about this makes any sense or leaves a lasting impression. Hugely wasted collab here…Beenie Man’s outro is such an upbeat, poetic breath of fresh air, it only drives home how bad the rest of it was, and what a glorious, swelling verse he toasted into the wind.
10. “Bound 2” | If you’re trying to pretend this isn’t “International Player’s Anthem 2013,” get the fukk out of here. Ye, you got Charlie Wilson, you tried to give UGK the statue, but the Billy Ocean break is Kim in a tennis skirt. Fooling nobody.