Better late than never. It takes some confidence for any artist to present themselves as the next piece of the never-ending musical puzzle, and then refuse to hint at a specific time to show it. Kanye West did it often enough when he was making music of note and not bible-bashing pieces or fascinatingly poor collaborative spectacles with dazzling family trauma taking away from a lack of impressive stylings. Take yourself back, back, all the way back to when West was still cobbling together his sophomore album. A seventy-minute titan which holds anthemic pieces still belted out in clubs and pubs skirting the edges of expensive for an evening pint. Late Registration holds up, but it is the why and how of these efforts which prove fascinating so far down the line.
An opening collaboration with Adam Devine, whose most recent credit is a PAW Patrol single, is a grand enough start. Heard ‘Em Say is a hell of a start though and paves the way to the inevitable hit duo Touch the Sky and Jamie Foxx collaboration Gold Digger. These are not the desperate clawing of an artist moving away from soul samples though, this is West at his best and his best is always in the inventive orchestral, the turn of electronics which would follow on Steely Dan-sampling Graduation. Tortured voices on My Way Home give Common a chance to shine and West, crucial as it is for all these additional artists to find their place, is very keen to give them some breathing room. It strikes through with consistency in tone and pace, with listeners being paid a visit by a collection of famous faces after their tardy arrival.
Chemicalised verbal weaponry is available on Crack Music, an exceptional track featuring The Game which relies on those interjections of what is and is not this genre. That placement, this style, all of it pools together to create an effective exposure of gritty details but triumphant characters holding their head above the waters. Consequences of fame are looked at with grief in the heart of Roses, the t-shirt signings at the side of a deathbed hit through with the same force as a wrecking ball slamming into your heart. These are the real and raw feelings of an artist in freefall after the dominant success of modern hip hop turns on his first effort – these are the reactions to his star power. He grapples with fame further on the yes and no of Addiction, not just drugs but the long list of examples West riffs from throughout
Arguably one of the biggest pools and best collaborative efforts in recent memory, Late Registration joins the party as it begins to wind down, takes one glance at the places and kicks it off all over again. A standard was set and maintained for some time by West, whose glory days are long behind him but still last on – songs huge enough to separate him from the man he is now. It feels as though a different person entirely is responsible for the thoughtful momentum of Gone or the explosive style of Diamonds From Sierra Leone. Gone are the days of emotive consciousness with Hey Mama, replaced now by a sickly attempt to use them as cover, not courage. Flickers of it still pour through from West, though not as much as it did on Late Registration.
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