The Ego Gets Evangelical
Kanye West is a man of many talents, but none are more impressive than his sheer unpredictability. There are few artists that can transition from the narcissistic heights of Yeezus’ ‘I Am A God’ to “I’m a sick f*ck / I like a quick f*ck” and eventually arriving at their next record entitled Jesus Is King – a record built upon heavyset religious themes behind its production. But Kanye West has often been marked by his conscious disassociation with what’s expected of him, which is why his 9th studio album carries a wealth of surprises – for better or for worse.
After the soulful, mental-health centric release of Ye, Kanye’s flagship in a summer that saw him produce a number of 7-track albums for the likes of Pusha T and Nas, Jesus Is King (JIK) comes at another tumultuous timestamp in Kanye’s life – only this time pushed by religious outcries and Sunday Service parades rather than political controversies.
A gospel album devised by a hip-hop artist is oxymoronic in its very notion and JIK is in itself riddled with the contradictory, often pulling multiple dramatic turns during its short runtime. The record falls in line with the patterns that Kanye’s releases post-Yeezus have found themselves with – existing as messy and incomplete work, but much like its aforementioned predecessors, with ideas here that no person could muster other than West – confidently leading the didactic crusade on listeners.
The grandeur of the track ‘Selah’ with its sparse but mighty drum beat matched with the choral arrangement during its power moments sets an excellent precedent, though this power only makes fleeting appearances and rather surprisingly it’s more simplistic production that often commands the soundscape. For every moment of exquisite triumph, there is an equal force pulling in the opposite direction, sometimes in the form of a track such as ‘Closed on Sunday’ with its questionable Chick-fil-A reference, or sometimes not fitting the album’s Gospel aesthetic at all such as the Pi’erre Bourne-produced ‘On God’.
Juxtaposition runs through JIK, with every heaven plagued by the sin of Kanye’s unwitting ability to not take a step back and look at the bigger picture. His beautifully raw performance on the album’s emotional, acclamation centrepiece ‘God Is’ is a wonderful pairing of classic Kanye-tinted sample manipulation that thrives through its stripped-back nature. However, when a track like ‘Hands On’ and its barebone, no-percussion instrumental feels as though it’s a prelude to a grander affair, it means that the mountainous heights of JIK are also met with sharp plummets.
If this is Kanye’s new church then it doesn’t seem sure of itself – just like its pastor. From its delayed release to its inconsistent song structure, it sometimes finds itself in the midst of pre-emptive excitement rather than following through with any sort of blueprint. This is unsurprising, given that it’s Kanye, but with the themes here it’s admittedly required. For a record that fans have been waiting on for so long, it’s ironically undercooked. Yet this is Kanye West: what is here is a poorly-structured yet heartfelt collection of pure and good-willed ideas. Like Ye, this feels like a personal expression of someone who pours his entire self into his craft; flawed indeed, but undoubtedly likeable in its originality, unique appeal and outright soul.
The High End Theory 
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