i2Culture

The Life of Pablo, Reviewed by A keminist Who
Doesnt Care That Kanye is Sexist

Jordan Tucker
Guest Contributor

anye West is a cultural juggernaut. He’s the only person

I can think of, other than Donald Trump, who can
dominate the mainstream news cycle for months at a time
through sheer force of personality and not get boring. His
very existence is performance art. So I’m here to say that I’m
a feminist and I’m a music lover and I don’t give two flying
fucks about whether Kanye is sexist or not. I don’t care if
he’s nice, or if he’s punching photographers. Because that
is not the point of Kanye West. The point of Kanye is to be
Kanye. As Kanye said in one of his many recent tweets, “I’m
an artist... the definition of art—or at least my definition—is
to be able to see the truth and then express it...”

The conversation about Kanye is often similar to the
way we speak about women. He’s “emotional”, prone to
“outbursts”, “crazy”, “irrational”. He does not meet our
expectation for the behaviour of a successful person. We
expect successful people to behave like the economic
systems we ascribe to—calculating, about the bottom
line. Kanye is honest, above all. He shares his fears and
his vulnerabilities. He is lewd, and often embarrassing.
But underlying all of this is an authenticity and genuine
intelligence that borders on emotional genius. The man
is simply incapable of filtering himself to almost any
capacity (I say “almost” because he sort of stopped himself
from interrupting Beck at the Grammys last year).

Tyalue Kanye from a feminist perspec-
tive, independent of his sexism. I realize
that this is a tricky line to walk.

I don’t like his sexism, but I cherish the ways he puts
himself out there. To me, Kanye West’s misogyny is
almost besides the point, and to condemn him for
that would be to undercut the very tangible cultural
value he provides in other ways. With that in mind.
here’s a track-by-track review of The Life of Pablo.

(I didn’t point out all the ways he’s sexist in each
track, because ain’t nobody have time for that.)

1.Ultra Light Beam, ft. Chance the Rapper

This is probably what Kanye’s referring to when he says
this is a gospel album. As in “Only One”, Donda West,
Kanye’s late mother, is impersonated as a gospel singer:
“T know that you'll take good care of your child”. Chance
the Rapper has a moving verse about fatherhood and
fame—“my daughter looks just like Sia, you can’t see
her”, referring to pop star Sia’s habit of hiding her face
to cope with anxiety. The production is moving, and

as per standard Kanye, goes from dissonant electronic
hums to sparkling backing trumpets. Kanye is doubling
down on his Christianity here, calling for faith.

2. Father Stretch My Hands pt. 1

Here we go, now we’re getting into the beats! Kanye
starts the track with a call for redemption: “if I ever
instigated I’m sorry, I’m sorry...” moving gospel
women take over as the crescendo builds, the beat
kicks in, and Kanye says, “Now if I fuck this model,
and she just bleached her asshole, and I get bleach
on my t-shirt, I’m gonna feel like an asshole/Nah,

I don’t really wanna think about it.” This effortless
kick-flipping between self-reflexive spirituality

and seemingly low-brow obsessions with sexual
and sartorial pleasures is one of my favourite
things about Kanye. He’s multi-faceted and refuses
to separate the aspects of his personality that

may seem like cognitive dissonance to some.

The ability to hold multiple contradictory ideas

in your head at once is no small feat, and to
paraphrase Lewis Carroll, Kanye has often been

a hundred different people before breakfast.

3. Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 2

This song (featuring a sample from swagger-

man Desiigner, about all the broads he’s got

in different cities) has a weird mish-mash of
boisterous misogyny and confession. Over a
desperate synth beat, Kanye apologizes to a
woman for not calling her back, “same problem
my father had”. Then Kanye returns to Yeezus-era
politico: “All his cash, market crashed/Hurt him

bad, people get divorced for that”. I was a little bit upset
when I first heard this album, wishing for more political
commentary, but have changed my tune after multiple
listens. It’s still there, but Kanye has returned to funneling
through 808’s & Heartbreaks-style emotional lenses, which,
from a feminist perspective, I can’t help but applaud.

4, Famous

This track opens with Rihanna. Rihanna is great. Next up,
a grand Kanye declaration: “for all the south-side n***as
that know me best/I feel like me and Taylor might still
have sex/I made that bitch famous”. Now, taking credit for
Taylor Swift’s success entirely is a little bit presumptive,

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