Some will inevitably decry this as a cynical bid to earn critical plaudits, snag a half dozen Grammy’s and further burnish Kanye’s image as the troubled artiste. 808s and Heatbreak is out on the fringes, a pulverizing and plaintive mash-up of pop, electronic and hip-hop into unidentifiable splinters of sound.
And rest assured, this is way out past the Euro-techno tongue kiss of Graduation. Thing is, like Common and Andre 3K, Kanye has reached that vanishing point, convincing himself that rambling down an experimental path is that only way to avoid growing stale. They’re the easiest comparisons and they’re apt–but only to a point.
Get ready to hear that this is Kanye’s Love Below or worse, his Electric Circus. First off, the conservative rap diehards that West rode in with are probably going to want to pelt him with rotten grapefruit. If this doesn’t get Kanye the Album of the Year Grammy that he so nakedly covets, dude might as well change his name to Steely Dan.īut like I said, people are going to fucking hate this record. Indeed, in its auto-tune excess and punch-drunk, woozy 80s electro, it brazenly signals a drastic turn for the weird that the cognoscenti won’t be able to resist. Expect critics to get hot and bothered like Leon Phelps in a hot tub with some ginseng and a lady.
Expect radio to grind the singles into the dirt. Like Godsmack fan at a Decemberists concert hate. Like loath it with every fiber of their being-type hate. Let it be said unequivocally: people are going to hate Heartbreak & 808s. Can you judge a grandmother’s love by giving it 2.5 mics, or saying that it only sold a million?”–Kanye West, directly after the first unveiling of Heartbreak & 808s “You can’t judge me on this because it’s a reflection of my heart and soul.
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