Now Listening: Yeezus

This review slash write-up slash random bullshit comes with a full disclaimer that you have absolutely no reason to take my opinion of any hip hop album seriously ever. Ever. It dominates so much of the musical landscape but it's a form that I have yet to truly adapt my head to. Left to my own devices I'd just listen to David Bowie and Hollerado all day every day, but Yeezy gets people in my store, despite having an audience that should be willing and able to download.

As for the album itself, well, I admire it a bit. I might never even listen to it again, but I like it more than what I heard of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. It's a hardass record and he does some daring shit on it, making abrasive clashing sounds on it, speaking hard truths and making no effort to contrive a hit out of it. It's the testament to his cult of personality that it is allowed to simply be, and to be whatever he wills it, because he wields that power. That cache. He's reached an artistic state of grace, where he wags the dog, and now he has the daunting task of keeping ahead of himself. Which is a good problem to have. The stunts he does attempt, like bringing in a sample of "Strange Fruit" for "Blood on the Leaves," manage to come off successfully. Kanye is many things, but not someone who reaches for the middle, and I respect that wherever it's found.

I mean, look. I'm not the authority. My blind spot for hip hop music is one of the dozens of reasons nobody will ever pay me to write about music for a living, I'm just trying to get better at it. Well, get better, or just get content, since Yeezus is dominating the dialog this week and Magna Carta will be dominating the dialog next week. It has my approval, for whatever that might be worth to you. It's a risky, almost dangerous thing, that really accounts for itself.

The Syndrome

Every so often I'll be at the store and pick up a copy of Kanye West's "My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy," and wonder if I should buy it and listen to it for this website.

There are times when I spend way too much time worrying about the critical estimation of that album, which is apparently the greatest thing since sliced bread. I'll defer to others here. I have no critical ear for hip hop, although I can tell from what I've heard ("Power," "Runaway," and "Monster") that this is some major league stuff. In fact, it appears to transcend the league altogether. But that doesn't mean I have to love it.

If you want my opinion on those three songs, it's this: "Power" is a great tune that I love to listen to at the beginning but exhausts me by the end. "Runaway" grates on me, at least in censored, radio-friendly form. "Monster" has a good hook but every second of it is overshadowed by Nicki Minaj (and good for her, because I don't dig her solo single, "Right Thru Me.") So there's me being a contrarian dickhole.

And I'd presume a full review of MBDTF (or "Mabudatuff" as I will now be calling it around the store,) would either be more of that, or a complete turnaround and a realization that Kanye's album is in fact the greatest disc of the millennium. This is possible -- I would dedicate myself to listening to it with an open mind -- but the urge to be the asshole that tries (and fails) to take this juggernaut of an album down a peg would be difficult to resist. I'd be like the guy saying the Beatles weren't that great and that Nirvana was all hype. And nobody should want to be that guy. That guy's got the Syndrome.

The Syndrome is something I've noticed for years on the internet. It's an extreme form of hype backlash so severe I felt I needed to go and make up a new phrase for it (and all I could come up with, so far, was "The Syndrome.") It's that frustrated, resentful bitterness that sets in when everyone loves something you don't. Not just when you dislike something popular, or something that sells well but is acknowledged to be shit, but something everyone, everyone, everyone seems to think is good but you. It's what motivates people to write bitter-ass reviews of Inception, or explain away Nevermind's success as "right place right time." Or -- although this has probably never happened -- someone saying Arrested Development wasn't all that great. Whatever it is, the professional critics like it. Your friends, including the ones whose opinions you actually respect like it. Everyone in the world seems to be buying into it, but you stand outside it, because it didn't grab you the way it grabbed them. And it fucking burns you up inside.

So instead of fading into the background during discussions, or quietly admitting, "Ah, I don't really get it but whatever," you need to rant, you need to express yourself, you need to get pissed. Most often this involves telling these people they're idiots for thinking this thing is great. Trying to launch an attack from any available front: "You like it because it's popular," "You like it because you're dumb" "(X) is way better," "(artist) is a hack," etc, etc, and you'll fight tooth and claw with anyone who disagrees with you, which is pretty much everyone.

And there's nothing wrong with diverging from the majority, and there's nothing wrong with holding to your own opinions. It's about choosing your battles, and there comes a time when you've got to realize how obnoxious you are for wearing your hatred of this beloved work, whatever it is, so proudly. You're a hater, man.

So I don't wanna be that, I don't wanna do that. In the words of Philip J. Fry, "I'll be whatever I wanna do." You probably don't care that I won't be reviewing Kanye's album, but there's something that occurs to me every time I do listen to one of the songs off it: it's definitely special. It's not your standard issue bullshit-hits Black Eyed Peas release, or a where's-the-hook-Pitbull-guest-spot deal. This is a man who thinks very seriously about the music he puts out there, and probably nothing else.

And I have absolutely no problem living in a world where Kanye West is good at what he does. It doesn't have to be for me. He might be a cognitively-challenged manchild, but so was Raymond Babbit.

So there you have it, gang. I've spent about as much time thinking about why I won't be reviewing this album as I have spent thinking about the next one I will be reviewing, which hasn't sold nearly as much. Kanye doesn't need the extra attention, and I don't need to try to change anyone's mind about him (since I'd fail.) You might see the Syndrome crop up on this blog someday, but I'm trying my best to beat it back and let people like what they like.

It isn't important that people agree with me. Only that they think seriously about what they want to hear.

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto