Kanye, oh Kanye.
It’s a love-hate relationship. To say that his antics don’t get similar reactions to Michael Jackson in his prime days would be a lie. To say that his antics do get the same reactions as Michael Jackson would probably inflate Kanye West’s head; it would pop.
On Sunday, August 30, Kanye West received the Michael Jackson Video Vanguard Award, presented to artists who have made a significant contribution to MTV culture, particularly through significant work on music videos.
The first Video Vanguard Award went to David Bowie, The Beatles, and Richard Lester, all of whom began the artform that is today’s music video. This past weekend, Kanye West, who has almost 50 music videos and 12 years of solo releases to his credit, took the award, a moonman designed by Jeremy Scott, another person of interest that we will refrain from commenting on until my brain can wrap around his costume choice.
SPIN magazine published an opinion piece on Kanye West’s recognition, saying that the award is unusual, “maybe because videos had less to do with Kanye West’s icon status than Michael Jackson, Madonna, Nirvana, Lady Gaga, or Eminem.”
Debatable.
Complex magazine published a similarly critical piece, but this time concluding, “upon closer inspection, the Vanguard Award is bullshit.”
Before we analyze the mind of Kanye West, let’s rewind and remember that he is an artist. Unlike many rappers in his field that have been raised in low socio-economic conditions, West was raised in a single middle class household, with the opportunity to attend art school, while colleagues Jay Z didn’t graduate from high school and delved into drug dealing and T.I. served seven months in prison for manufacturing and distributing crack cocaine.
Kanye West, in the meantime, dropped out of college, and began producing beats for local Chicago artists. After gathering some traction in the local music scene, West continued to produce songs for Harlem World, Foxy Brown, and Mase in the late 1990s, until his big break in 2000 when he became the in-house producer for Roc-A-Fella Records. West was highly praised for his work on Jay Z’s legendary album The Blueprint, one that is consistently ranked as one of the greatest albums of all time, including hits “Izzo (H.O.V.A),” “Takeover,” and “Girls, Girls, Girls.”
Working with Roc-A-Fella set the platform for his debut album, The College Dropout. Pitchfork proclaimed it “the first great hip-hop album of the still pre-pubescent 2004”, and is home to one of my personally favourite Kanye West tracks, “All Falls Down,” and the first of Kanye West’s controversy, “Jesus Walks.”
Skip forward 11 years, past the George Bush comments, the “Imma let you finish,” the Jesus Rolling Stone photoshoot, and Kanye West proclaimed he is running for presidency in 2020.
Yeah.
I started this piece in defence of Kanye West. I believe he is a true artist. He has vision, he has passion, and he follows through. Every Kanye West album is surprisingly original, catchy, provocative, and includes some brilliant lyricism. Ask me what my favourite Kanye West line is, and I’ll write you a book.
His 2010 My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is my favourite album of all time—I beg of you to let me finish. The maximalist overproduction, dark lyrics, and the 35-minute accompanying short film with song previews earned this album a whopping score of 94 on Metacritic. Every track on that album had the potential to be a huge single and every single released was accompanied by a stunning video.
To say that he did not contribute enough to MTV’s culture because he only has 50 music videos is laughable. MTV’s culture is more than videos, it’s about representation and impression. Kanye West represents any middle class child, any African-American silenced by the system, and any artist that’s hit creative bottom.
I’m assuming that the great mind of Kanye West saw Donald Trump on the broadcasted debates, and thought “I could do better than that.” And he’s right. He probably could.
Why is everyone so outraged by the notion that Kanye West would be interested in politics?
Democracy is rooted in representation, with every member of society having a voice and everyone having an equal opportunity to lead. Kanye West is just as much of a representative of the United States as Obama, Trump, or Bush. He might be inexperienced in economics, political policies, and other bureaucratic nonsense, but his voice is just as legitimate as yours or mine. The one exception being that his voice is a tad louder than yours or mine.
His acceptance speech for the Vanguard Award started with a weird statement that took a while to sink in: “Bro. Bro! Listen to the kids.”
At first, I thought he meant for us to listen to the kids—the young people in the audience that he owes his success to, their screams and cheers.
Then a thought entered my mind—what if this was his political mission? In similar fashion to Obama’s “change” campaign, will we bear witness to Kanye West’s “listen to the kids?” Or will Kanye simply fall trap to his own huge ego and listen to the voices in his head, opposed to the voices of the next voting generation.
Time will tell.
Kanye for president, 2020.
Victoria Goldberg, Arts Editor.
Photo courtesy of billboard.com
