The Life Of Pablo

It feels far different from any of the tightly constructed, singular works of West’s past, and from a sonic standpoint, it sounds almost like a greatest-hits collection of nearly every sound and musical idea that he’s cultivated up to this moment. If you have a favorite Kanye West record, you can find it in here somewhere.

[A] near-classic, West’s Physical Graffiti, his White Album. The Life of Pablo makes the wonderful Yeezus appear minor by comparison.

Pablo doesn't go for any grand musical and emotional statements on the level of "Bound 2" or "Runaway" or "Hey Mama." West just drops broken pieces of his psyche all over the album and challenges you to fit them together.

A madcap sense of humor animates all his best work, and The Life of Pablo has a freewheeling energy that is infectious and unique to his discography. Somehow, it comes off as both his most labored-over and unfinished album, full of asterisks and corrections and footnotes.

In a word, Pablo is fun, and it’s fun in a way that a Kanye album hasn’t been in nearly a decade, since Graduation’s pop-rap coup marked his commercial peak.

Moments like “Pt. 2” where Yeezy reflects on his parents divorce, his mother’s passing, his near fatal car crash over Rick Rubin, Mike Dean, and Metro Boomin’s bouncing madness linger long after last listen.

After seven manic albums attempting to prove his perfection, Kanye is seeking penance on The Life Of Pablo. Here, he delivers 18 heavenly hymns.

It’s this unholy amalgam of anger and swagger and self-loathing and--above all--love, all served over some of the best production work the man has ever done.

Like the man himself, the album is emotional, explosive, unpredictable, and undeniably thrilling.

While it may not be relatable, it is a rewarding journey.

T.L.O.P. does the perfect job of showcasing what makes Kanye brilliant--excellent production mixed with creative samples and his Quincy Jones-esque ability to get the best work out of some of music’s most talented artists. ’Ye’s rapping is good, filled with creative and honest lyrics, funny barbs, outright disses, his occasional take on pop culture and politics and the traditional Kanye bragging plus a few unnecessary lines that can make some listeners wonder he would even say them. But that’s ’Ye.

For all the paradoxical production agendas in play, Mr. West’s guiding hand in constructing the album’s boldly going flow is everywhere in evidence. As glacially paced, mood-enhancing music, Pablo is a hypnotic slam-dunk.

West is the rare artist who can turn a cry for attention into something more: a distillation of his artistic output to date that is quintessentially Kanye, whether you like him or not.

More an obscure self-portrait than a Picasso masterpiece, The Life Of Pablo retains its author’s status as the most interesting man in music. But he makes it seem like harder work than the effortlessness we’re used to.

Once again, Kanye has released music filled with contradictions and confusion. Once again, it’s like nothing heard before. Once again, it’s good to have him back.

A genius--and yes, perhaps a little bit crazy--with an attention to detail like no other, no matter what might slip from his grasp ($53 million for one, if recent statements are to be believed), Kanye West is in full control of every atom of The Life Of Pablo.

[He] has perfected the art of aesthetic and intellectual bricolage, shape-shifting in real time and counting on listeners to keep up. More than on any of his previous albums, "Pablo" reflects that rambling, fearsome energy. This is Tumblr-as-album, the piecing together of divergent fragments to make a cohesive whole.

For better or worse, no-one else is making records quite like this. [May 2016, p.82]

The Life of Pablo has a lot going for it, but sometimes, even with all the best intentions, you can mess up a good thing just by virtue of being yourself.

My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy remains the apex of West's maximalist visions, and while The Life of Pablo certainly aims high, it isn't as consistently pointed in delivering both music and message as its big-budget predecessor was. And yet, it remains a modern gospel that is undeniably West's own, with a handful of vexatious moments peppered throughout the undeniably visionary ones.

The other way to look at the erratic Pablo is as an "instant" LP, one that was mastered at the last minute and debuted via streaming. On that count, it's a fascinating, magazine-like experience with plenty of reasons to give it a free play, and with "Feedback" adding "name one genius that ain't crazy" to the mix, Pablo excuses itself from the usual criticisms, although it could have been tighter.

{A] scattered, contradictory work of an icon straining to keep up with his own brilliant pace.

Too often his raps are egotistical, self-pitying, trashy, crass or just clunky- distracting from the sonic feats behind the vocals.

There is much to be admired here, rather less to be enjoyed.

Despite the embarrassment of riches, though, there's also a lot of plain old embarrassment. [May 2016, p.110]

The Life Of Pablo is bursting at the seams with ideas and talking points, from his mental health and destructive ego to the very fact that this album defines how useless the format is. As with every one of his records, you feel like this is only the tip of the iceberg.

For a rapper who has excelled in redefining the artform, The Life Of Pablo is a sprawling, uneven and curiously unfinished sounding affair with a dearth of recognisable bangers. Much less than the sum of its parts when stacked against the grandiloquent orchestral sweep of 2010’s My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy or pared-back abrasive aural sculpture of predecessor Yeezus, it suggests West is merely human after all.

While there are great lines and verses here, not least the funny, smart No More Parties in LA – which features Lamar – you’re occasionally struck by the sense that West doesn’t really have that much to say this time around, or at least not much that he hasn’t said before.

West finds control on an album whose first half is uncharacteristically wild. The focus present on these tracks [Waves, FML, Real Friends, Wolves] are what is expected of West.... But the strength in these moments also highlight how rudderless the rest of Pablo often feels.

There is plenty here to suggest that West's magic has not entirely left him, but as a statement of art or true intent, this is a significant misstep from an artist with so much to praise.

Pablo grips your attention through an attraction-repulsion effect: the attraction largely pertaining to the sonics, the repulsion manifesting almost entirely in the lyrics. [Apr 2016, p.52]

West is consistently the weak link. The musical patchwork of The Life Of Pablo is frequently--but not always--diverting in its restlessness and detail, from the abruptness with which Price is faded out on 'Ultralight Beam' to the scrawling guitars that underpin 'Feedback', probably the most straightforwardly good song on the album.

Spirituality is more overt on The Life of Pablo than any of his previous sets, but it’s damn near impossible to decipher. Sure, The Life of Pablo‘s obscurities and eccentricities make it ripe for endless dissection by West’s fans and followers, but make no mistake: this albums is flawed, it’s problematic, and most of all, it’s no masterpiece.