Album Review: Kanye West, Donda

Kanye West

Donda (released August 29, 2021)

Kanye West HAS to be the most polarizing artist of our generation, right?

As usual, I come bearing receipts: Weeks ago, after it was officially announced that Donda, Ye’s 10th studio album, would be dropping on that Friday (uh huh), I shared a post outlining what I hoped the album would be (i.e., a return to his reflective, soulful roots) and what I hoped it wasn’t (sloppy produced music littered with childish punchlines and shower singing).

Half my feed was outraged that I would even acknowledge Kanye’s music, considering the damage he’d done to the black community and political sphere with his nonsensical rhetoric. The OTHER half of my feed was outraged that I would dare question the ability of one of the greatest musical artists of all time.

And that was BEFORE we endured weeks and weeks of listening sessions, start and stop album release dates, a pillow fight with Drake (apparently group chat arguments are the new battle raps) and the release of a stem player that will allow fans to do Ye’s job of editing his album for him.

These are truly the last days.

But that’s the story of Kanye West. For some fans, he’s the preeminent rock star, a creative genius whose boundless innovations played a big part in hip-hop’s mainstream explosion in the early 2010s. For others, he’s a narcissistic time bomb who nearly screwed up the most important election in our lifetimes, coasting on past greatness while spending the last decade dropping overpriced clothing and undercooked music.

The good news: Donda is the best Kanye West album since 2016’s Life of Pablo. The bad news: it’s still indicative of the very worst traits of 2010-era Kanye – bloated and directionless with conflicting themes, all wrapped under the guise of “creative genius.”

It’s not nearly as brilliant as it thinks it is – but it’s still pretty brilliant sometimes.

Remember Syleena Johnson, the angelic voice who swooped into an 11th-hour Kanye recording session to lay down the hook for his hit “All Falls Down?” Well, on the opening track “Donda Chant,” she’s relegated to deadpanning Kanye’s late mother’s name over and over.

And over. AND OVER. It comes off more like a creepy seance than a loving tribute.

The first half of Donda is by far the strongest, often feeling like the Yeezus and Jesus is King albums did the Dragon Ball Z fusion dance. “God Breathed” might not be a very fun listen but it’s pretty intriguing from a production standpoint, thanks to the electronic gregorian chants. “Junya” makes good use of the sparse organ keys for a surprisingly catchy offering.

Both “Hurricane” and “Jail” received a lot of buzz online thanks to Ye’s listening sessions, and while both are flawed in their own ways, they have their share of wins. As usual, Lil Baby rushes through his bars for no reason (it’s like he has to run out of the booth before he pees in his Balenciagas or something) but Weeknd’s hook and Kanye’s Um Um Um Um Um Campbell’s Soup ad-libs work better than you’d expect. Likewise, the screechy autotune of “Jail” does it no favors, but the Sunday Service Choir brings enough soul to keep it grounded. Also, Jay Z’s verse is pretty throwaway – y’all can keep The Throne in storage if this is what WTT2 is going to sound like.

The uplifting “Believe What I Say” brings some much needed energy to the project, and it’s not lost on me that modern artists constantly have to turn to 90s hitmakers (in this case, Lauryn Hill’s “Doo Wop”) to add life to their dreary backdrops. But by the time the listener gets to the dreary faux R&B of “Moon” and “Donda” things really start feeling repetitive. Same sparse production, same vocal effects, same dusty Easter Sunday chords.

And that’s the just FIRST HALF of the album.

Yes, at TWENTY SEVEN TRACKS and nearly 109 minutes, Donda is almost as long as the new Candyman movie. I was ready to say DONDA in the mirror five times so she could come back and murder Spotify.

The second half of the album feels more unnecessary with each passing minute, with a few exceptions – Westside Gunn’s esoteric thuggin works wonders for “Keep My Spirit Alive” (unfortunately poor Conway the Machine disappears and quick as he arrives); and anyone who questioned Jay Electronica’s staying power on his LP last year will quickly be shut down by his verse on “Jesus Lord,” one of the best I’ve heard all year:

In Tenochtitlan, they call me Terremoto, El Negro Loco
I shake the tectonic plates of the game if I lay one vocal
The God is interstellar while you fellas remain local
My bars is like the pyramid temples of Pacal Votan
As sure as the DOJ confirmed Ezekiel’s Wheel
I could change the world like Yacub with two pieces of steel
My sword and my microphone, I swore to the Christ’s throne
But when you great, they wanna say you took a L, José Castillo

Jay Electricity gonna have y’all Googling like crazy. And to his credit, Kanye actually delivers here too, delivering a heartfelt tribute to his mother.

And herein lies one of my biggest criticisms of this album – what was presented as a tribute to Kanye’s loving mom … doesn’t really have much to say. I was pretty critical of Jesus is King for its surface-level depiction of faith, and that resumes here. Other than saying essentially saying “God is good all the time/All the time God is good” like the usher lady at your church, there’s no real exploration of Kanye’s beliefs or faith walk. And we KNOW he can do it – his first three albums exemplified this, with “Jesus Walks” providing more spiritual context and insight than anything on this album.

Likewise, what could have been an opportunity for Kanye to celebrate womanhood mostly goes to waste, besides Donda name drops and scattered “I love my mom” references. I certainly wouldn’t count “Lord I Need You,” which pokes at his broken marriage with Kim Kardashian, among that exploration of femininity. But I will shout out Shenseea for her adding her voice to “OK OK Part 2,” part of a series of mostly needless album-closing remixes. The worst offender of that bunch is “Jail Part 2,” which adds accused homophobe DaBaby and accused sexual assaulter Marylin Manson for no other purpose but shock value. Let’s have a toast for the douchebags.

Donda, as expected, is a frustrating listen. For every powerful song here, there are four lackluster ones that clog up the tracklist. For every stellar guest performance, that Vory guy is making my ears bleed with his autotune ever other song. For every insightful verse, Kanye totally contradicts himself on the next bar (the same guy who preaches against capitalism on “Pure Souls” is still selling y’all $900 shoes shaped like dinosaur fossils).

There’s enough here for Ye fans to a create a decent personal playlist but as a whole, Donda does way too much without doing nearly enough to serve as a powerful tribute to its namesake.

A few days ago, after yet ANOTHER Donda delay in favor of ANOTHER live listening session, a stan on Twitter said to me: “We don’t need an album – Kanye is giving us an EXPERIENCE.” For better or worse (actually, worse), Kanye has created a fanbase that will celebrate anything he does, no matter the quality.

Just like that OTHER guy who wears a red cap.

Best tracks: “Jesus Lord,” “Off the Grid,” “Hurricane,” “Believe What I Say”

3 stars out of 5