I’ve long tolerated the erratic behavior of my favorite artist of the millennium. I stuck with him when he cancelled a concert in Atlanta after I booked a non-refundable trip to see him at Philips Arena. Even his unsettling flirtation with the current president didn’t phase me. I’m firmly in the music-is-the-only-thing-that-matters camp.
Each of Kanye West’s first seven albums is a masterpiece. Released today, his eighth album Ye ends that remarkable streak. While it’s enormously entertaining and endlessly fascinating, Ye isn’t up to West’s colossal standard.
After listening to the 23-minute project on repeat for hours on end, I’ve concluded that only the druggy gospel of “Ghost Town”- a mashup of the styles of Queen, Rihanna and Kirk Franklin- is exceptional. The punchline lyrics and inconsistent production on the other six tracks betray a lack of focus.
West flew higher than anyone for more than 15 years. While Ye can’t be characterized as a crash landing, it’s an extremely bumpy return to earth.
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I write weekly music previews for The Kansas City Star.
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I examined Grizzly Bear’s return to the Middle of the Map festival for The Kansas City Star.
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I recently became obsessed with a premium brand of cream soda. The empty calories infuse me with a fleeting sense of euphoria. The silky production on J Balvin’s lightweight Vibras is similarly satisfying. Here’s “Ambiente”.
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Tia Fuller’s Diamond Cut is precisely the sort of thrilling mainstream jazz album I keep waiting for a Kansas City musician (other than Bobby Watson) to make.
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The song titles and press release for Awase, the latest effort of Nik Bärtsch’s Ronin, are painfully pretentious. The music, however, is genuinely funky, albeit in a Swiss kind of way. RIYL: Manu Katché, bass clarinet, the Esbjörn Svensson Trio.
(Original image by There Stands the Glass.)
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