Kanye West - Donda

SERMONIZING TO ROWDY PEWS

There's always a spectacle surrounding a Kanye West release, and Donda is no different. As the years went on, tearing Kanye's mental fortitude apart, it became less about the music and more about the dramatics. The tableau of volatility, proliferated by an ostentatious, marketing acumen. The world's his stage and we're just playing the role of observer. Never has that been more evident than in Donda's listening party rollout, where, quite literally, thousands of audacious stans defied a global pandemic - defied common sense - in order to observe the lone star under the spotlight, gawking at his own creation. This, particularly on-brand for the recently born again West, as nothing usurps his egomania. Not even his departed mother.

Which leads us to the biggest criticism of Donda; the fact it's not even about her. Remotely. At 27 tracks, the work feels more like an exhibition in exercise, a running who's who playlist which, beyond the general production techniques brushing on Yeezus and The Life Of Pablo, rarely finds cohesion amidst the ramblings. He raps about indulging in the seven deadly sins, braving fame, enduring regret, and praising a God who'd begrudgingly forgive him. But hardly his mother. Only himself. In other words, what we've come to expect. In fact, Donda's Kanye's safest album since Graduation. Accessible and utilitarian, relating to the people he's millions of dollars away from, preying on their inert desires of greed and relevance. Apart from the religious overtones, which come off as distracting (due to his off-mic antics) and redundant (due to ye and JESUS IS KING) Kanye, at times, comes off as borderline relatable. Not in a pragmatic sense, but one that parallels our societies misguided ventures and forsaken virtues. Capitalized with the Christian hypocrisy strewn about. Say one thing, act another. Call out to the heavens ('24') after sinking to depraved lows ('Junya'), sometimes within the same breaths ('Praise God'). For all his faults, Kanye's inadvertently the modern archetype of a Christian. Conflicted with reality, constrained by commandments.

It makes for a desultory release, one that entertains any and all avenues. The life of a bachelor. One moment, gruff pandemonium in the trenches of club life ('Off The Grid,' 'Praise God'), the next contemplative reflection brought on by heart-stricken isolation ('Jonah,' 'Moon'). However, Donda truly excels when Kanye reaches into his past to further expand the already-verbose album. After a streak of radio-friendly cuts like 'Hurricane,' 'Ok Ok,' and 'Junya' (mmh, mmh), something special happens. It appears as a visage from Lauryn Hill on 'Believe What I Say,' when the quest for germaneness, finally, evades him. No longer tethered to relevancy, a musical past rich with growth, heart, and probity emerges. 'Believe What I Say' and 'New Again' evoke the Graduation era, ripe with strobing synthesizers and a celebratory stature. 'Moon' and 'Lord I Need You' uncover a new perspective to the sentimentality of 808's & Heartbreak, hushed and dolorous, without the need for invasive autotune. And, though dubious, hints of vintage Kanye spark up on 'Heaven & Hell' and 'Jesus Lord,' drawing similarities to the God-fearing intimidation tactics of 'Jesus Walks.' This, not the stadium tours, nor the fake Drake beef, nor the Universal frustrations, nor the ensemble of problematic features, is the most unexpected aspect of Donda. Kanye's ability, for the first time in his career, to look back and rekindle a lost sense of understanding. Of grounded contemplation. Of rapping without the need to be provocative. Needless to say, these songs, and others like 'Keep My Spirit Alive' and 'Pure Souls,' are refreshing and encouraging. Like being bathed in the river Jordan.

This culminates in 'Come To Life,' Kanye's best track since 'Runaway.' It etches out 'Ultralight Beam,' a single that's comparative byway of natal blessings. Each carried by a stray, elongated vocal sample sermonizing the prospects of nirvana, 'Come To Life' takes on new life by abandoning convention. Much in the same way of 'Runaway,' which also prominently featured a cascading piano, the grand climax of Donda unfurls continuously, without interruption, like the gates of Heaven welcoming its newest arrival. Not scorned by garbled autotune, Kanye's emotion is laid bare. Revelatory, passionate, and benevolent, 'Come To Life' casts aside every ounce of drama that's followed him, deservedly so, over the past decade. A weight is seemingly lifted off his shoulders, a burden forgiven. Here, Kanye returns to the tender soul he's been forever trying to rid himself of. That would make Donda proud.