Review: Graduation / Kanye West

Everyone says the record industry is dead, but they omit one point - people still love music. In fact, music is probably more important to people right now than it's been in a long time. When Kanye West decided to push the release date of Graduation up to September 11 - so that it could go up against 50 Cent's Curtis - he got people excited about a release date, and I can't remember the last time people gave a shit about that. Songs leaked before, but West was giving people a reason to actually go to the store and buy it, and for those who did, something special was awaiting them. Should West be number one when SoundScan figures drop next week, it would solidify him as a totally new kind of artist. In just a few short years, we've seen West transform from in-demand producer to critically acclaimed rapper and now West has expressed a desire for the "stadium status" that goes with a Justin Timberlake caliber artist. Such a goal would have seemed lofty at best four years ago, but now seems almost inevitable. West's music boasts both a complexity and an accessbility - not to mention that West may be the only rapper whose arrangements are so lush they could actually translate to a stadium venue.

The best place to start with Graduation is the title. West has promised this academic theme since the release of his first record, The College Dropout. That title was in reference to West's decision to drop out of school, focusing solely on making it in the music, much the the chagrin of his college professor mother. But the title and a recurring theme throughout the album regarding making your own path and not letting others stand in your way. The album was the result of a frustrated run where no one believed in his ability to rhyme. Roc-a-fella president Damon Dash suggested the youngster simply stick to beats. By Late Registration, he had proven himself, but the album was as dark and uncertain as it was celebratory. With arrangements fleshed out by Jon Brion, the album was pushing a level of hip hop avant garde. Still, with hits "Gold Digger" and "Touch the Sky," West was stronger than ever.

And so we reach Graduation at a point where West has not just been accepted as a rapper, but one whom innovation is expected of. If those first two records were West's way of laying out the blueprints for his plan for musical domination, Graduation puts them into motion. The album is sparser - no skits (thankfully) and songs are kept at a radio length. The arrangements are no less complex - but West isn't trying to push you to the edge this time, he's expecting that you're already meeting him there. But I don't even know what to call this - it's not rap as rap has ever been heard before. In fact there's only two ("Barry Bonds," "The Glory") - maybe three ("Everything I Am") songs that I would actually classify as rap. As a whole, it comes off as a futuristic pop art/R&B from outer space.

The cover again showcases West's bear character - this time however all artwork is by Japanese artist Takashi Murakami. Between this, his recent choice of fashion accessories and the "Stronger" video, West is showing a considerable interest in Tokyo. Last December, I was having a conversation with my cousin regarding my own interest in Japanese youth culture. He said they have a real love for American fashion and pop culture, but they really take it and put their own unique spin on it. I would say that spin is quite futuristic, and I think West's brain moves the same way. West's rhymes are a collection of movie quotes and pop culture references, while his beats pull rhythms from the strangest of places (Steely Dan, Daft Punk, Can), occasionally throwing in the day's most popular voices (T-Pain, Chris Martin) for good measure.

The merits of hip hop are almost judged solely by lyrical content. Those who discuss political and social issues on occasion are placed above those who are more concerned with cars, money and women. But I've never placed art's importance solely on content - form plays just as essential, if not a more essential role, in art's effectiveness in society. Lyrically, this is West's least socially conscious effort to date, but musically, it's more complex, challenging and intelligent than anything done before. West knows how to trigger the senses - it's impossible not to feel confident and empowered the moment "Good Life" kicks into gear. At the same time, he knows how to push.

"Stronger" boasts now R&B hook, instead just ferocious rhyming over a mildly chopped-up Daft Punk sample. More challenging is "Drunk and Hot Girls." Lyrically the song has been criticized as "beneath" West, but with a sample from art rockers Can, the song moves at such a dark, slow pace, it's impossible to know what to make of it. "Stronger" I can grasp, but I just can't wrap my head around that one. It's like it intentionally breaks the first half's momentum just to fuck with you.

There is no more poignant moment than on closer, "Big Brother," an ode to Jay-Z that isn't all roses. West notes Jay's Madison Square Garden concert - "Not only did I not get a chance to spit it/But Maureen told me I could buy two tickets." At the track's end, he fumes, "I told Jay I did a song with Coldplay/Next thing I know he got a song with Coldplay." Ultimately, though, West comes back around to admiration, it's a rare moment of vulnerability for a rapper, but no so much for one whose always remained self aware and unashamed.