Do I still like Kanye?

Do I still like Kanye? Sure, maybe, idk.

It’s Kanye season once again, and every new interview I watch only makes me more confused. Do I like Kanye or do I hate him? You probably already know your answer. He’s a polarizing figure that makes crowds salivate at any chance of absurd drama or brand new music. He’s a household name for many different reasons, but I didn’t expect for him to become a Whitehouse-hold name. In this past year, Kanye has become a vocal supporter of Trump, somewhat shocking . . . well pretty much everyone. Kanye has also been busy recording new collaborative projects. He’s been busy talking about mental health especially his experience being bipolar, how slavery is choice and the victim mentality of the Black community, to prison reform and abolishing/amending the 13^th amendment. Last week he got to meet President Donald Trump inside the Oval Office to discuss prison reform, but it quickly lived up to all of its eccentricity. Watch below or read the transcript.

After watching this video (or any of the other interviews), it is easy to see why most people would write him off. It’s just another episode of Kanye being Kanye. Yet, it is hard for me to write Kanye off as crazy. Unstable? Most definitely. But I think that there is something else going on deep beneath the surface level of the insanity we see. I think complex may be a better word to describe Kanye than crazy, but I would easily settle for confusing.

The source of my confusion is the theological development of Kanye in the span of a few years. After the release of The Life of Pablo in early 2016, I wrote about how this album represents Kanye as a new type of Christian. This Christian was one that had come to a genuine awareness of their own brokenness and acknowledged that they could not fix themselves. This type of faith was one that turned to Jesus while not pretending to be without doubt or struggle. There is a confession of where he is at, but also a cry for strength to change things.

However, Kanye’s faith seems to have shifted in another direction. It looks as if Kanye does not simply acknowledge this duality, but accepts it as who he is. His diagnosis is no longer something to be overcome, it’s something by which he will overcome everything else.

That’s why I f––– with Ye!

See, that’s my third person!

That’s my bipolar shit, n–––, what?

That’s my superpower, n–––, ain’t no disability

I’m a superhero! I’m a superhero!

-Yikes, Ye

Rather than seeing it as a burden to be freed from, he sees it’s acceptance as freedom itself. In Ghost Town, Kanye speaks of resting from that inner tension of wanting to please everyone. In the outro, 070 Shake sings from Kanye’s perspective:

Woah, once again I am a child

I let it all go, of everything that I know, yeah

Of everything that I know, yeah

And nothing hurts anymore, I feel kinda free

We’re still the kids we used to be, yeah, yeah

I put my hand on a stove, to see if I still bleed, yeah

–Ghost Town, Ye

In this, Kanye has let go of all that he has learned in order to become like a child, not caring about what others think about him. This is what Kanye believes will bring him freedom, so much freedom, that he will have to force himself into remembering what it was like before. This could represent a very healthy attitude towards external criticism or a perfectionist perspective of one’s self. Yet, in the context of Kanye’s wrestling with mental health issues, I think that this may be too charitable of a reading. More likely, it sheds light on the source of Kanye’s freedom: himself.

There may be a connection between this theological development and Kanye’s support of and friendship with Donald Trump. It seems that Trump epitomizes everything that Kanye wants to be—a successful (self-made?) entrepreneur who can say or do anything while maintaining his power and influence. Has Kanye’s ‘god dream’ he rapped about in The Life of Pablo become incarnate in the man Donald Trump? Perhaps, Kanye sees a man excelling at being abrasive, freely speaking his mind, doing everything with impunity, and he wants to be that type of man. Yet, I believe that what Kanye most admires in Trump is his power. This was represented well in his Whitehouse meeting,

“It was something about when I put this hat on, it made me feel like Superman.  You made a Superman.  That was my — that’s my favorite superhero.  And you made a Superman cape. For me, also as a guy that looks up to you, looks up to Ralph Lauren, looks up to American industry guys — non-political, no bullshit . . . and just goes in and gets it done.

Kanye looks up to Trump because he gets things done. This may help explain his comments regarding slavery as a choice and how welfare has hurt rather than helped the black community. Perhaps he sees people in those positions, not without power, but apathetic in their use of power. While this a rather unfair and simplistic judgment, if your idol is the “self-made” billionaire who bulldozed his way into the Whitehouse without caring who he hurt in the process, you may not really care about the details.  It seems that Kanye has forsaken the faith he found earlier, opting to embrace his personality and to trust in his own power to handle the criticisms as well as his addictions.

But is this the full picture? I had nearly finished this post before I heard a song that made me all the more confused. One week after the release of Ye, Kanye also produced a companion album with Kid Cudi called KIDS SEE GHOSTS. In the final song entitled, Cudi Montage, Kanye raps about the retributive and penal cycle of violence and its ability to destroy families. Kanye offers no solution to this real problem, but, surprisingly, he does ask for help:

Lord shine your light on me, save me, please

Hmm-mm-mm, woah, woah

Save me, Lord.

-Cudi Montage, KIDS SEE GHOSTS

This line repeats for a majority of the song, ending the album with a prayer to God. Maybe Kanye doesn’t think he has all the answers. We hear his anxiety in the song Violent Crimes as he is frightened at the prospect of his daughters growing up and dating the wrong type of men, yet acknowledges that he is simply the “devil rebuking the sin.” We hear him talk openly about his mental health and opioid addiction both in his art and in his interviews. Maybe he is just crazy, but maybe he is still asking for help.

There may be many reasons to write Kanye off as certifiably insane. I don’t think anyone can in good conscience agree or defend half of what he says, and I certainly wouldn’t vote for him if he ever ran for president. But I don’t know if I am willing to give up on him just yet. He makes some fine music, and he helpfully reminds me that even someone like Kanye, with all of their issues, can still cry out to God for mercy and forgiveness.

He’s confusing and complex, but I think I still like Kanye.