Embroiled in an elaborate ploy to sell CDs with hip-hop ruffian 50 Cent, producer and rapper Kanye West has become a publicity-hogging wunderkind. Example: The guy entertained a room full of housewives wearing those paper-Venetian-blind sunglasses on Ellen DeGeneres’ show and then boldly made an “I’d do anything for a blonde” joke to DeGeneres ““ and she laughed. And so it goes. At every appearance, he and his antics are raucously received, no matter the audience.
Beneath all the whining and histrionics is a versatile, eager-to-please performer who strives to cultivate mass appeal. This is especially evident on “Graduation,” West’s third and self-described best album of his career. He is as charismatic as ever, but both his lyrics and production lack the maturity of 2005’s “Late Registration.”
The impression that West is reaching out to every demographic possible is visceral. Daft Punk-sampling single “Stronger” draws the hipster and club crowds. DJ Toomp-produced and Young Jeezy-ad-libbed “Can’t Tell Me Nothing” is a lyrical southern heater. Bookending the album are songs in which West yearns for “stadium status.”
Inspired by opening for the likes of U2 and the Rolling Stones, West aims to write less lyrically complex songs while crafting beats that’d play well to arenas: classic rock guitars, booming drums and catchy hooks.
“Homecoming,” a redone song from the “College Dropout” era, is built around a piano loop fit for Elton John. Inexplicably, Chris Martin of Coldplay has become the go-to guy for rappers, and his turn on the track is particularly inert and soulless.
Shunning the lush orchestration of “Late Registration,” this album’s production is dominated by some exceptional synthesizer work. Tracks such as “Flashing Lights” and “Good Life” have glistening synths that hearken back to the ’80s. “Drunk and Hot Girls,” West’s favorite song on the album and the lone collaboration with “Late Registration” maestro Jon Brion, is a dizzying bizarro carnival ride in the guise of a hip-hop song.
As a rapper, West’s style is at times too campy and relies heavily on wordplay. He’ll drop the occasional egregious clunker (“Hey Mona Lisa, you know you can’t roam/Rome without Caesar”) but is equally capable of a great one-liner (“When y’all were in limbo, I raised the bar up”).
His lyrical inconsistency can be faulted for the album being slightly underwhelming. While none of the songs are patently bad, only a few of them are especially great.
The best song is also perhaps the most revealing. A passive-aggressive tribute to Jay-Z, “Big Brother” exposes West’s vulnerability and insecurity. Behind the swaggering Louis Vuitton Don is a guy who so obviously wants to be liked.
In today’s hip-hop climate where risks are not the norm, West’s risk-taking is admirable. Though his artistic decisions are sometimes ill-advised, they’ve certainly paid off: The album has already sold nearly a million copies in its first week.
“Graduation” isn’t as consistently great as its predecessors, but there’s no doubt we’ll be hearing West everywhere from 80,000-seat arenas to iPod headphones to suburban minivans. Better him than Curtis; thanks ‘Ye.
““ Teddy Phuong
E-mail Phuong at tphuong@media.ucla.edu.