Theophilus London keeps outdoing himself. Right now, the 27 year-old Brooklyn-ite is gearing up to release his second full-length studio album, Vibes. The album will contain a track featuring none other than Kanye West himself (who also happens to be an executive producer on the album).

The track, entitled “Can’t Stop,” is a slow, soulful ballad in which West’s verse takes a stark departure from the caustic wailing of Yeezus  reminiscent of his The College Dropout days. In the snippet, you can hear Yeezy’s verse in it’s
entirety:

The snippet was originally released on SoundCloud but since deleted, “Can’t Stop” can be found on the Vibes pre-order on iTunes. Last week, London released “Tribe” feat. Jesse Boykins III, and before that, he had released another track entitled “Neu Law.” Vibes is slated for release on October 28.

The post Snippet: Kanye West drops guest verse on Theophilus London’s “Can’t Stop” appeared first on RESPECT. | The Photo Journal of Hip-Hop Culture.

Photo by Matt Salacuse

With all of the Kanye talk out there in response to Yeezus, it’s easy to lose track of history, especially as it relates to Kanye’s ego. Both fans and critics alike have claimed that Kanye has radically changed since the days of popped collars, teddy bears and backpacks. Those claims certainly have some merit, especially musically and stylistically, but in regard to Kanye’s ego, things have been relatively stable. Back in 2010, we interviewed photographer Matt Salacuse (RESPECT. Vol. 1 Issue 4) and referring to this photograph, he told us of his experience shooting Kanye back in 2004 during the promotion for College Dropout:

“This was for promotion of his first album, and even then he was egotistical. I shot this in seven frames, and this was the first frame. After I took it he was like, ‘What are you doing? I wasn’t ready!’ And unfortunately, during the other six frames, he wasn’t doing anything. They were just bland. And the record company used this one.”

And there you have it.  Kanye’s undergone a lot of change in 10 years, but his huge ego has been there since the beginning. Hell, on “Last Call,” Kanye brings it up himself: “They say you bougie, you big-headed/ Would you please stop talking’ bout how big my dickhead is.”

If you’re still not convinced, read the late Donda West’s book, Raising Kanye: Life Lessons From the Mother of a Hip-Hop Superstar. She dedicates an entire chapter to Kanye’s ego! So the next time someone laments (or praises) Kanye’s allegedly growing ego, tell them, “Shut the fuck up when you talk to me before Matt Salacuse embarrass you.”

P.S.

Read our Yeezus review.

And look out for our app. It’s coming soon to an iPad near you.

The post RESPECT. The Archive: College Dropout Era Kanye Gets Contextualized appeared first on RESPECT. | The Photo Journal of Hip-Hop Culture.

Kanye West’s sixth studio album, Yeezus, leaked four days before its official release on June 18^th, 2013. Guess who didn’t give a fuck? Kanye West. After months of anticipation, a star-studded listening party at NYC’s Milk Studios, and a brash and refreshing marketing strategy of public video projections, Yeezus reached the masses early and illegally, yet the world got almost no response from the Chicago MC.

This nonchalant reaction not only solidifies Mr. West’s opinion about the leak – as well as the album cover itself – but it also represents his approach to the new LP as a whole. “How much do I not give a fuck? Let me show you right now, ‘fore you give it up,” West raps in his exaggeratedly nasal voice, just one minute into the album’s opener, “On Sight“. ‘Ye is already letting everyone know that he’s going to do what he wants on this album, with no apologies. And as the above lyric cues “On Sight”‘s techno barrage to let up and reveal a sweeping soul-ish melody reminiscent of his past work, West’s brash aversion to convention pays off. Beautifully.

“On Sight” gives us a little taste of the Kanye we’ve known in the past, easing us into his new world with a head-nodding, futuristic-sounding banger à la “Stronger” that quickly changes directions as the track morphs into a sharp and warbled electronic shrill. Once this discomfort has slightly set in, “Black Skinhead”  comes at us full throttle. The track is the highlight of the album, effortlessly combining gut-wrenching electric guitars with militant, almost ceremonial drums.  Better yet, Kanye’s flow is in a rare double-time that makes his neurotic shrieks even more compelling. (Trivia: he probably hasn’t flowed that fast since “Get Em High“)

The third track, “I Am A God” continues with the same strength as “Black Skinhead“, with ‘Ye declaring himself a “close tie” to Jesus. Understandably, the song has raised a bit of controversy, with many opposed to Kanye presenting himself as a deity. But listening closely to his tone as he snarls those four words, it seems as though Kanye is declaring his status as a god to both the listeners and himself. Furthermore, beyond those four words, it’s important to note the line, “Until the day I get struck by lightning, I am a God.” Even when he’s elevating himself to the heavens, Kanye still seems to be wary of going too high because maybe there actually is someone above.

The production on the album is constantly complex and often schizophrenic, weaving both seamlessly and abruptly between dark House music, distorted dancehall and maximal EDM. This raging mixture of blown-out bass and disparate noises is honestly like nothing else we’ve ever heard from the Chicago rapper. It is not uncommon for rappers to attempt to cross genre-boundaries and it is very common for producers to violate these boundaries (if they even believe in them), but Kanye genuinely seems to have built this album’s soundscape with pure openness. The production credits for Yeezus are notably extensive for an album without live instrumentation. Moreover, artists with very loose hip-hop affiliations seem to have had significant roles.

Nevertheless, perhaps this openness should have been reined in a little bit. Take “Blood on the Leaves,” for instance. Sampling Nina Simone‘s cover of “Strange Fruit,” a song about lynchings of Black males in the South, Kanye samples TNGHT‘s “R U Ready” and creates a song that’s chilling, yet impossible not to dance to. It’s easy to view the sample as the work of a provocateur, but if nothing else, the album is absolutely a gesture in sincerity. In other words, Kanye actually does think it’s okay to conflate lynching with relationship problems. If that sounds absurd to you, that’s because it is. But how could Kanye think that comparison is okay?

That question brings us to Yeezus‘ lyrics. Lyrically, Yeezus isn’t particularly evocative.  Kanye familiarly raps about luxury life on songs like “Send It Up”, women on cuts like “I’m In It” and “Hold My Liquor”, and loss on “Guilt Trip.” Even when these familiar topics are paired with new interests like the youth of Chicago and the contradictions that come with being a black celebrity, the lyrics aren’t particularly rewarding. The real reward of the album is its affect. Even when Kanye is comparing lynching to relationship problems, despite the absurdity of this comparison, the atmosphere of the song, how it makes you feel, is overwhelming. In fact, Kanye seemingly makes the comparison because of how he feels. For him, affects, feelings, can be equated in ways that words (or realities) cannot. Thus, he doesn’t ask us or convince us to feel a certain way by using clever lyrics: he makes us feel a certain way by pairing two disparate sounds and forcing them to work. That is the strength of “Blood on the Leaves” and the overall strength of the album. Kanye has learned to use sound to command listeners to feel a certain affect regardless of how that affect was created.  A cynic might say he really is a God.

The last track on the LP, “Bound 2”, is a journey into nostalgia. From the moment the sample of Ponderosa Twins Plus One‘s song “Bound” begins playing, it’s like time- traveling into the 70’s. This final song is a true treat, because it takes us all the way back to ‘Ye’s College Dropout days, when he pulled samples from some of the greatest singers to bless our ears, including Chaka Khan and Luther Vandross.  Mr. West’s rhymes are what we’d expect from him, but the singing throughout the track is what makes it exceptional. To put the icing on the cake, ‘Ye lets Charlie Wilson belt out, “I know you’re tired of loving…with nobody to love.” It’s a very comforting ending, especially in comparison to the atmosphere that preceded it.

Yeezus lacks a teddy bear or anything closely resembling one, but Kanye West remains embraceable. In fact, Kanye has grown even colder since “Cold,” but perhaps that’s the point. Yeezus doesn’t have have to give a fuck about us for us to give a fuck about him. He’s a god.

The post Album Review: Kanye West – Yeezus appeared first on RESPECT. | The Photo Journal of Hip-Hop Culture.

Kanye West’s cryptic tweet from earlier in the week is still being debated. The date could be the arrival of baby KimYe, his new single, or anything in between. Regardless, a new Yeezy album is definitely on the way, if not this summer then certainly by the end of the year. Therefore, it’s only fitting to take some time to put Kanye’s previous efforts in perspective. You’d be hard-pressed to find many rappers who have amassed a stronger five-album catalogue than Mr. West, but even in a sea of great music, there are varying degrees of GOOD.

5) 808s & Heartbreak

Kanye’s genre-bending fourth album is undoubtedly his most polarizing. The loss of his mother put him in a place where he could not simply go in the booth and rap. He had other emotions he needed to convey, be it through singing, tribal drums, or arctic-cold soundscapes. The album’s most telling point comes on “Coldest Winter.” In contrast to the heart-warming “Hey Mama,” this record finds Kanye distraught and angry over the loss of his rock. Though not the album’s highlight, the song encapsulates 808s & Heartbreak perfectly: Kanye was attempting to work through his grief, regardless if it resulted in successful records.

4) Graduation

Graduation was the turning point for Kanye. Following two skit-heavy albums, he delivered a succinct 13 tracks. His rhymes were more polished and he was clearly more focused as an MC. The album was also the start of the more experimental Kanye we know today. However, he had a few misses on this album, and on a smaller tracklist, those misses are more noticeable. “Barry Bonds” was nowhere near the lyrical monster one might have thought it would be, as we were clearly on the way out of the Mixtape Weezy era. “Drunk and Hot Girls” not only sounded like the 2am ride-along music for all date rapists, it also broke up the flow of an otherwise very coherent project.

3) College Dropout

You don’t get a second chance at a first impression and Kanye certainly didn’t need one. At the time of College Dropout, he was a producer trying to make a name for himself as a rapper, crafting hit after hit to back up his bravado. College Dropout boasts several iconic Yeezy records, including “Jesus Walks” and “Workout Plan.” The most special thing, however, is the brief glimpses of vulnerability exhibited, like on “Through the Wire.” Kanye proved that he not only had the hit-making ability to get in the door, but that he also had the substance to stay.

2) Late Registration

While most people were quick to predict a sophomore slump for Kanye following a classic debut, he was once again prepared to prove everyone wrong. He showed up as a hungrier, more polished MC and still delivered radio hits, perhaps none bigger than “Gold Digger.” In retrospect, the tracklist is still bloated, especially with 4 skits, an intro, and an interlude. Not to mention Kanye was still getting lapped by big brother’s on the “Diamonds” remix. Nevertheless, Late Registration would prove to be the statement that Kanye West wasn’t going anywhere.

1) My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy

By 2010, if Kanye West wasn’t public enemy #1 he was living right next door. He had incurred the wrath of every late night talk show, skit show and internet show following Swift-Gate. He was still grieving over losing his mother and he had ended a long relationship with Amber Rose. But, as is true with most artists, his best work comes out of suffering and tribulations: Kanye flew to Hawaii and crafted a masterpiece. With the help of an ensemble cast, we were privy to a darker, hyper-experimental Kanye West. He came across at once lost and right where he wanted to be. MBDTF is far from Yeezy’s biggest success on radio or the charts, but it connected with fans and critics alike. While some supporters still clamored for the return of the sample-loving, backpack-wearing Ye, the realists knew that version was long gone. “Power” was years of packed aggression in 5 minutes of venting. “Runaway” and “Blame Game” showcased that the vulnerability still lived in the man, yet he was growing as a person. “Monster,” “So Appalled” and “Gorgeous” proved that Kanye could rap his ass off in case anyone had forgotten. While MBDTF certainly lacked the radio hits and soul everyone came to expect from a Kanye West album, it replaced those with pain and triumph balled up into a frantic, maniacal opus.

The post Ranking Kanye West’s Albums from Worst to Best appeared first on RESPECT. | The Photo Journal of Hip-Hop Culture.

Remember that demo Yeezy talked about on “Last Call?” Well KTT has unearthed the full 15 tracks. There’s no official name to it, but The Prerequisite seems like the popular label. Check out early versions of “Jesus Walks,” “Hey Mama,” “Family Business” and plenty of unheard records, including “Wow!”

The post Listen to Kanye West’s 2001 Demo: The Prerequisite appeared first on RESPECT. | The Photo Journal of Hip-Hop Culture.

Back in 2003, before Kanye made his stamp in game with College Dropout, he and mother Dr. Donda West were at the table reminiscing. His mom recalls one of her favorite early verses from her son and they both begin rapping the bars. Kanye also makes a reference about not yet making a million dollars. He would certainly accomplish that and more in the coming years.

Take a trip down memory lane:

Spotted at Civil.

The post Kanye West Raps With his Mother — in 2003 appeared first on RESPECT. | The Photo Journal of Hip-Hop Culture.

On his latest single, “Nobody’s Perfect,” J. Cole raps to an undergraduate biddie, “Take the weekend off and come home soon; I graduated way too long ago to be sneakin all in your dorm room…But baby where your roommates? Did you make sure the door’s locked?” Against the backdrop of abrasive dance beats and constant chatter surrounding hoes and money—or hoes looking like a bag of money—any Billboard Hot 100 single that offers something remotely different feels refreshing and worthy of some admiration. J. Cole’s ease spitting collegiate culture, writing on tropes that appeal to neither the rage of America’s most deprived nor the excesses of America’s most privileged, alludes to something American hip-hop music and its critics have often overlooked: the bourgeois rapper’s voice.

Attending college—the proverbial entrée into the middle-class—has never really been foreign to American hip-hop music. From Public Enemy’s Chuck D & Flavor Flav, who met while at Adelphi University, to Talib Kweli, who studied experimental theatre at New York University, to David Banner, who acted as the student government president at Southern University, countless rappers have sent Frisbees across the quad. But Public Enemy’s raps were more or less focused on mobilizing the downtrodden residents of America’s slums. Talib Kweli’s sorts of intellectual hip-hop certainly give a nod to the Black bourgie sensibility, but don’t really speak to the Black middle-class experience itself. As for David Banner, his half-naked, “work them hips” ladies can speak for themselves. The main point being that although rappers have come from that diploma-totting class, it wasn’t too audible in their raps.

Of course, Kanye West’s scholastic trilogy—College Dropout, Late Registration, Graduation—was probably the most obvious display of collegiate culture in the history of American hip-hop music. And it deserves recognition for boldly confronting the complex economic, social and cultural issues facing Black, university-aspiring youth, while warping the empty promises (read: employment) of a college education. But as much as the album titles may suggest a neat narrative, honestly the trilogy was only sprinkled with these moments, in songs here and there, mostly in skits. West largely mocked the University institution, as well as the Black adolescents who, as he seems to suggest, make a misguided choice to participate in it. College, for all intents and purposes, was the butt of West’s joke.

But in “Nobody’s Perfect,” J. Cole, who graduated magna cum laude from St. John’s University, willfully demonstrates his easy navigation of the coed life—the playful avoidance of dorm security, the open-door policy of on-campus undergrads—without any further comment. Nurtured by the college experience, J. Cole’s verse articulates it in earnest. Drake less directly displays his exceedingly middle-class upbringing on “Crew Love.” Rejecting the college route, he blithely raps, “I guess we’ll never know what Harvard gets us. But seeing my family have it all took the place of that desire for diplomas on the wall.” Drake basically trades his middle-class upbringing for the rises-from-the-ashes-of-the-ghetto story all too familiar to American hip-hop music, ironically putting a spotlight on his supremely bourgeois experience.

It is enticing to conclude that we are witnessing a more honest hip-hop milieu, one in which rappers need not bottle up their identities in order to fit the industry’s mold. But such censure would not be so fair to those who, like Chuck D, may not have bottled up anything at all, artists who chose simply to rap from more of a soapbox than a diary. Instead, the quad’s renewed presence in hip-hop verse may indicate a shift towards a more confessional hip-hop, one in which the artist him or herself becomes more visible. As dorms across the country are once-again trampled by hoards of the young, the horny, and the cerebral—all hopeful contenders for that coveted membership in the bourgeoisie—the day-to-day realities of American college life, and middle-class life at large, are finding a somewhat unexpected home in the rhymes of American hip-hop music. Who knows, we may even soon hear the woes of the young, the graduated, and the debt-ridden unemployed.

Benjamin Ratskoff is a contributing writer for respect-mag.com

The post Opinion: Back to School With Your Favorite Rapper appeared first on RESPECT. | The Photo Journal of Hip-Hop Culture.