Kanye’s Departure from the Secular World Stumbles
by Mateo Rispoli
In 9th-century Europe, music’s main purpose resided in the church. The church itself, facing growing concern over the complexity and potentially impure nature of music, standardized a set of rules for plainchants. The music must be performed by strictly male vocals, unaccompanied by any instrumentation, devoid of rhythm, and Latin in monophonic textures. As the centuries progressed, the Ordinary of the Mass established, orchestration and composition entered the mix, drawing in new churchgoers with rhythmic worship.
Kanye West doesn’t care about any of that.
West seems to have a similar goal to the integration of the Ordinary, however, his understanding of Christianity seems like it could have been garnered from watching an episode of VeggieTales with North.
The 42-year-old patriarch of the genre espouses his newfound partnership with the Lord on his ninth studio album JESUS IS KING. It’s not as unprecedented a move as many think; one of the greatest philosophers (just as West fancies himself) music as ever seen, Bob Dylan, found Christ at roughly the same age and released a string of three Christian albums that divide fans to this day. West’s pivot plays more naturally given his prior musings on faith in top 40 tracks such as the marching condemnation of religious suppression “Jesus Walks.” His sentiment on that song alone gives more insight into West’s faith and his view on personal piety than JESUS IS KING does in its entire 11-track, 27-minute runtime.
Lyrically, JESUS IS KING rings hollow, and at its best, confused. Hammy religious allusions and imagery strewed throughout, West grapples with his past secular life and desires so badly to prove his faith. His combination of these elements with modern hip-hop tropes borders parody, however not in the campy “bleached asshole” way West’s fans are used to. There are a few sweet moments in which West captures what his religion means to him; “And I know, I know God is the force that picked me up/I know Christ is the fountain that filled my cup” he sings, approaching falsetto, allowing his voice to crackle with emotion, “I know God is alive.” These lyrics, if nothing else, show a man who considers himself a deity humbled at the feet of another. When Ye switches his focus to business, he’s his witty self again, “Off the 350s He supplied/The IRS want they fifty-plus our tithe/Man, that's over half of the pie/I felt dry, that's on God/That's why I charge the prices that I charge/I can't be out here dancin' with the stars/No, I cannot let my family starve.” In a way, this contradictory show of greed is the most authentically Christian line on the album.
Generally, however, West’s implementation of religious elements obscure the sun that his discography orbits: him. The Kanye West canon is rich with personal history, now 15 years into his career, and for someone who has so consistently treated his lyrical content as an evolving character study, it’s a shame to see him drop it here for thinly-wrought Biblical references.
Oh, and the “Chick-fil-a” line is bad right now, but a “damn croissant” legacy lies in its future wake.
Christ and West make for a grand production duo, however. A glorious concoction of gospel choirs and massive drum hits, “Selah” bellows with My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (2010) maximalism. “On God” equips the church organist with an OP-1, a pitch bender, and an arpeggiator in West’s second collaboration with Pi’erre Bourne. The only thing burning in the Church of Ye besides his millions of secular follower’s skin is the dance floor. “Everything We Need” proves another successful collaboration with Ty Dolla $ign. Fred Hammond’s vocoded pleas for prayer trip over themselves as if he can hardly hold them in and fill the mix of the otherwise minimalist “Hands On.”
In terms of instrumentals, there’s hardly a weak track to be found. However, none of the songs here approached the multifaceted structures of something like Yeezus’s (2013) “Hold my Liquor,” replete with a guitar solo, thematic variations, and atmospheric vocal polish. Nothing on JESUS IS KING cooked long enough to be so fully formed. A song like “Follow God” is a lyrical barrage over a characteristically Kanye beat, however, it never evolves past that.
“Everybody wanted Yandhi / Then Jesus Christ did the laundry,” remarks Kanye in the mindset that his newfound Christian slant makes JESUS IS KING inherently superior to his prior efforts. However, that’s as far as the sentiment really goes; a wash, which after repeated plays wears thin. The stink and dirt gradually make their way back between Mr. West’s threads. While there are some inspiring shows of faith and chuckle-worthy lines, the quality of his lyrics has never stood in such stark contrast to that of his instrumentals. Kanye sounds like he’s struggling for something to say, or he simply has too much to say and needed some help from God to get it done. Whatever the case, West stumbles on JESUS IS KING, only saved by his own his withstanding curation and production hand.