Kanye West

Bully (released March 28, 2026)

If you don’t believe that Kanye West is the most polarizing rapper on the planet, just look at my DMs.

While I was at the gym this morning, I received three different DMs from friends – all of them knowledgeable music fans – with three wildly different takes on Ye’s long-awaited Bully project.

Homie No. 1, a longtime Kanye stan, said the album was great, by far his best work since The Life of Pablo. Homie No. 2, a bit of a lapsed Ye fan, also said that the album was mostly good, but had issues. And then Homie No. 3, a loud and proud critic of modern-day Ye, burned up my inbox with words I won’t use here. Let’s just say he hated it.

These reactions, mind you, came 24 hours after my nieces and nephews at Shatter the Standards raked this album over hot coals in their blistering review.

So, who was telling the truth?

Well, after spending time with the project myself, the truth is evident – they’re all right … to an extent. Truth has always been a malleable concept for Kanye West, and like the polarizing reception of this album, its greatness exists only in the eye of the beholder.

If it feels like we’ve been talking about this Bully project for years, ir’s because we have. Last year, Ye dropped multiple EP versions of the project, containing versions of the songs that would eventually make the full album. Reviews, of course, were mixed, but anticipation nevertheless was high, especially when it seemed that this version of Ye would blend of the robotic sorrow of 808s & Heartbreak with the sonic dexterity of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.

If you squint hard enough, the final product sorta resembles those expectations. Sorta.

Opener “King” beings with a coronation from Duke Edwards before Kanye gleeful plays the bad guy: “The hero became the villain now/We gon’ send it up and go a million miles/And she ain’t dealin’ with no Shallow Hals/She want that Iron Man like Gwyneth Paltrow.” But as much as you’d think he wants to revel in this tough guy role, he often feels too insecure to embrace it.

“Whatever Works” has Ye reflecting on rebounding from past sins (“Life gave me lemons, made an Arnold Palmer on the rocks “) while “Sisters and Brothers” showcases the devils and angels that constantly battle on his shoulders (“They never gave justice, so y’all don’t know peace/Bank account filled with the root of all evil/Antihero, vigilante”). This isn’t a cocky Ye or a remorseful Ye, it’s like he’s floating in a void trying to find his morality. But more on that later.

I will agree with Team Yeezy on one point – Bully features some of Kanye’s best production in years. The rumbling bass of “This is a Must,” the sped-up soul samples of “Punch Drunk,” even “All the Love” feels like the next-of-kin to “Stronger,” thanks to the electronic aesthetic.

While the album does have a smattering of guests, most just wind up window dressing, with the exception of Andre Troutman, whose talkbox adds needed flavor to both “All the Love” and “White Lines.”

Now, before the Gotcha Gang jumps in the comments to scream “I tHoUgHt U hAtEd aUtOtUnE!” there’s big difference between the talkbox and the electromagnetic mosquito sounds of autotune. Paired together, it makes the typical auto-crooning a bit more tolerable.

The album’s best track, by leaps and bounds, is “Preacher Man” a crisp sample of The Moments “To You With Love” that layers religious symbolism over Ye’s usual braggadocios bars. But if you look beyond the typical arrogance, you’ll see glimmers of a softer side:

Basically, went out my way to make a way for you
Basically, I’m finna take you higher places through it
Way improved, and like a beta, we gon’ stay improvin’
This the light that’s gon’ illuminate the way we movin’
Trust in me, we goin’ God mode, the theory’s proven

Those moments of reflection are fleeting, though, and that’s my problem with Bully. For an artist known for making hardline stances on the most controversial (and, often, straight up ignorant) issues, we don’t get much of that here. THANKFULLY he isn’t licking the boots of Nazis for clout this time, but he’s not making much of a stand on, well, anything.

Bully isn’t as earnest as Ye’s Teddy Bear era, nor as it as unhinged as recent years. Kanye feels like he’s muzzled here, and the project feels restrained as a result. He loves God, people misunderstand him, he’s richer than all of us, but he’s sad – we’ve heard all of these topics before, but with much more humor and bite than what’s here. It doesn’t help that so many of the best songs – “Punch Drunk,” “Whatever Works,” “Sisters and Brothers,” etc. – feel abbreviated and unfinished.

It’s easy to see why Bully is receiving such a mixed reaction. If you’re a longtime fan dying for the magic of Old Kanye, the improved production is enough for you to overlook the album’s structural flaws and lack of weight. And if you’re a skeptic who is fed up of years of sloppy Ye releases, the it’s very easy to dismiss the smaller wins for the gaping holes.

I wouldn’t call Bully the best album since Pablo (an album that, quite frankly, has been inflated a LOT over the years). I think Kids See Ghosts with Kid Cudi is a far superior project, and even Donda, with its many flaws, had more to say than this record.

Again, the truth is in the eye of the beholder – if you’ve been craving Kanye’s redemption, this album is your saving grace. But if you’re fed up with Ye antics and years of phoned-in projects, this album will only serve to irritate you more.

I’m just surprised that this Bully doesn’t have much bark OR bite.

Best tracks: “Preacher Man,” “Sisters and Brothers,” “Punch Drunk”

3 stars out of 5