Let’s get one thing straight right from the outset. If I could marry Kanye West and live happily ever after in France with him, I would. It’d be great, we’d roll around in a Ferrari or something, jump in a chartered jet for salmon maki at Nobu, and finish off the day wanking into a Versace sock whilst 808s And Heartbreaks plays in the background. Basically, Yeezy, I’m platonically in love with you and I want to be your creepy BFF. Don’t be scared, I’m just a nice guy with an unhealthy obsession.
Since he's been with Kim "Satan Incarnate" Kardashian, I just can’t feel the same about him anymore. Things have changed. You’ve changed. I don’t even hear from you on Twitter these days :(
But really, since Ye’s been with Kim, his creative output has kinda sucked, right? I know a lot of people like to believe that Watch The Throne and Cruel Summer were the second coming, but those people are kidding themselves. Secretly, we’re all just waiting for KimYe to break up so that he can make his greatest record yet.
Firstly, let’s take a look at the last great Yeezy album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Coming out straight off the back of the Amber Rose break-up, it’s just about the best thing to ever come from the Louis Vuitton Don. I’mma go right ahead and plonk it on the very top of the best modern hip-hop records tower. Deep and thematic, Yeezy meticulously pieced together his masterpiece, stitching in little nuggets of exquisite audio artistry. With MBDTF, I can totally imagine ‘Ye spending forty hours in the studio, tinkering around with the mix just because the kick drum just wasn’t “pumping” enough.
The album was fucking great. But the whole package that came along with it helped push the concept. Remember G.O.O.D Fridays? What about the film that was released? Or the time Kanye turned up at the Facebook offices to perform some new tracks? Everything was so perfectly pieced out it didn’t seem real.
That special something was missing from Watch The Throne and Cruel Summer. Despite us waiting forever for both, they seemed inherently rushed and weighed down by Gucci engraved Jesus piece instrumentals as opposed to, y’know, actual good, unadulterated hip-hop.
I’m happy for Kanye being in love and all that kind of junk, but hasn’t Kim kind of ruined his persona? I can TOTALLY imagine her railing down on him – “Babycakes, stop spending time in the studio. Come home and give me a toe massage” – and him obliging, putting all the effort that’d previously be put into hi-hat mixing, toward rubbing the nether regions of her ankle with scented oils and minotaur semen. I totally bought into the misunderstood, brooding persona of Kanye, but nowadays he’s become a gossip column staple, focusing on the new ‘Ye purchased Kardashian wardrobe rather than music. It makes me feel a little sad inside.
So Kanye, I beg you, bring back the you that rants on stage for fifteen minutes about how much work you put into making a record. The you that Tweets about throw cushions, or at least the you that releases a track without three hundred guest spots and all-illuminati-everything themed production.
As for you Kim, I’ve seen your sex tape. You look like a lovely, homely girl, but can you give Kanye some room to breathe and return to you day job of crying on demand.
Follow Ryan on Twitter @ryanbassil
P.S I wrote this whole article without any mention of an “I’mma let you finish” anecdote. Your move internet.