A lot of things happened at Yeezus. His incessant self-appraisal that Kanye West is who he thinks he is calls for many words of analysis to be punched out on his behalf. As a public figure he is polarising: his cultural effect is largely only regarded by those already in his camp and to the rest he is a rapper who regularly appears in glossy print.
Perceptions of West in this manner however are impossible to hold on to when you see him go full-Yeezus. On stage everything he had preached was gospel, his cultural impact is was blaring as his antipodean crowd singing “Spending everythang on Alexander Wang” with varying amounts of understanding, but wholehearted conviction.
Heavy licks of guitar reverb sounded out Star Wars‘ Imperial March and West appeared on stage in a beam of light. The reverb quickly morphed into Black Skinhead, the distorted anti-anthem that proved to be Tuesday night’s manifesto. The Australian Yeezus tour was pared back from his American offerings. There wasn’t a mountain for him to climb, he wasn’t carried by 12 model apostles, and he didn’t tell Jesus he was trying to stack millions mid-I Am a God. What was left showed that West really is “the world’s number one rock star” as he performed a minimalist album with minimalist props and maximum gravitas.
Going from Black Skinhead to the gully I Don’t Like by Chi-raq’s Chief Keef, he wild out through Cruel Summer’s Mercy and skinned PETA yet again in Cold before dipping deeper into his catalogue with Can’t Tell Me Nothin’. While people refer to West by his album periods it seems that when he performs, Graduation-era Kanye and Yeezus-era Kanye are one in the same.
I’d be staked on Kanye for saying this, but Heartless was my favourite song of the night. He sounded particularly afflicted in a way that makes you remember 808s was better than we gave it credit. The anticipated rant struck on cue mid Runaway but instead of prescribing creativity as life’s panacea he scolded an unnamed for misconduct – “We got two shows, so we better get on the phone in the morning” – and appropriately began his auto-tuned cascades of “Don’t fuck me, don’t fuck with me”‘s.
Pusha T was brought back out for Runaway’s ending verse and the he smashed out his seminal tracks that would be on a Best of: Kanye West if it was on iTunes right now. The show ouroborus’d back to Yeezus with Bound To and Blood on the Leaves before multiple goose-steps into Niggas in Paris that had the crowd writhing. And that affirmed that with his waisted plaid shirt as a kilt, Kanye West is every bit as Braveheart as he thinks.
BY EDGAR IVAN
Loved: Remembering ‘Sad Kanye’ during Heartless.
Hated: Whoever snapped up the merch I wanted.
Drank: The Cool-Aid.
