Rocks
Upon surveying the track list of the new Kanye West release, I was sure that I had received only a small portion of the album. Thirteen tracks? Really? All I could assume is that someone did me a favor and deleted all the skits. As it turns out, Kanye West, the epitome of excess and ego in an industry that rivals Xanadu in its decadence, has chosen to exercise some restraint this time around.

The disruptive skits and boring, orchestral filler of his previous release, 2005’s “Late Registration,” are gone, and what we get instead is a well-paced, tasteful sequence of songs that is actually more sonically compelling than anything he has recorded to date. The album’s simultaneously reserved (I use this relatively) and ambitious feel is exemplified by his recent foray into European dance music, most obviously evident in “Graduation’s” second single, “Stronger,” which is driven by a sample of Daft Punk’s “Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger.”

West uses synthesizer liberally on the album to incorporate this influence, with varying degrees of subtlety and mostly impressive results. The album’s centerpiece, “Good Life,” successfully combines the traditional Kanye template of sped-up soul samples and rollicking drum beats with triumphant synth blasts. This, combined with a hook from king-of-the-vocoder T-Pain and a Robin Leach-worthy account of the Kanye lifestyle, results in one of the most euphoric, addictive pop songs I’ve heard this year.

The album isn’t pure self-glorification, however. Kanye has always thrown self-deprecating one-liners into his rhymes, but on “Graduation,” he seems a lot more sincere and self aware than he has in the past. “Big Brother”, an ode to his mentor, Jay-Z, comes across as a rare exercise in humility, and on “Everything I Am,” he acknowledges his severe foot-in-mouth and inability to truly belong in an industry dominated by gangsta culture. “Graduation” showcases Kanye West growing into his enormous ego and carefully refining his craft, while maintaining the endearing showiness that his fans have come to love. I would highly recommend buying this album, although I haven’t, so I won’t be self-righteous. Have a friend burn you a copy, listen to the radio or just watch MTV, but whatever you do, don’t miss out on this one.

P.S. Alex Frank does not care about black people.
– BRYAN SONDERMAN

Reeks
Besides sucking and being totally boring, Kanye West, hip-hop’s most prominent ego-in-a-V-neck, had only one gimmick − pilfering old soul tracks, speeding up their vocal tracks to Alvin-like shrillness and basically faking the funk all the way to the bank. At this point, I could pretty much ignore him. No devastating bass, minor-key synth ripples or every-other-line references to pushing keys of white? Pass.

But now that Kanye, who embarrassingly goes for “outlandishly charismatic” but achieves “outlandishly obnoxious,” has co-opted shitty European dance music for his own uninteresting purposes, I’m actually angered. Yes, 50 Cent is about as relevant to hip-hop as Snow or Kriss Kross, but when I saw those dudes talking about their respective chuds of albums on BET, I seriously hoped for a massacre. Pun intended.

“Graduation” is so offensively corny, dull and soulless, I’d actually rather listen to real European dance music than this miserable baker’s dozen of aural force-fucks. “Champion” evokes a sweaty Ibiza club, with a V-necked Kanye freaking out on some bad Ecstasy. Isn’t this hook from the “Night at the Roxbury” soundtrack? Wow. “Stronger” is horrible, and you’ve obviously heard it a million times, so let’s just get Mr. College Dropout to write Jean-Luc and Francois or whatever a letter of apology, including a pledge to not jack any more cuts from their wonderful back catalog, and get on with it.

He plays it safe on “I Wonder,” sampling an old soul sample and proving to the record-buying public that the biggest hip-hop star in the world has had three albums and millions of dollars to develop exactly two tricks. “Good Life” falls flat, except for T-Pain, whose hook alone makes this song listenable − minus, of course, the parts when Kanye raps.

“Drunk and Hot Girls” is maybe the worst song ever recorded. Whatever drug Kanye was on when he convinced himself this was a good track to include needs to have its inventor’s memory erased or something, because that shit is DEADLY. “Everything I Am” supposedly finds Kanye admitting his faults, but you’d need some John Zorn-style, 100-CD box set to adequately catalogue that. This song goes for sensitivity and a glimpse into the tortured soul of a spotlit star, but it basically just blows. The rest of the album finds him swinging from mentor Jay-Z’s nuts and collaborating with Gwyneth Paltrow’s baby-daddy. Snooze button.

More broadly, I’d like to point out that this record, mercifully, only comprises 13 songs. I’m stoked, obviously, but Kanye fans should be bummed. That’s all he can give them? How many albums, mixtapes and guest verses did Lil’ Wayne record in the first three-quarters of 2007?

Also, at some point on this record, he references “Snakes on a Plane.” Have you ever gotten super drunk in your dorm, lost track of time, and showed up at some supposedly raging party, only to find the keg tapped, two nerds totally blowing it at Beirut and everyone gone? It’s kind of like that.

Some people find Kanye’s flow compelling, his oversized personality fascinating and his beats progressive. I don’t. In a time when mainstream rap is undeniably awesome, Kanye is a gigantic hemorrhoid on the ass of hip-hop. Where’s the Preparation H?

P.S. Put a mouth on it, Sonderman.

– ALEX FRANK
[Ed. note: Alex Frank likes emo. Think about that for a second.]