Kanye West: this could have been a ‘reel’

A sound that is like a drone. Five minutes. And Kanye West comes out, crosses the empty pit ―no floor tickets have been sold― and goes inside the stage, which is a giant half globe. He is like a lone astronaut. And he just hopes to hold almost two hours of concert from this fabulous top of the world where he once lived but hasn’t set foot in for a long time. In journalism, these things happen to us a lot. Someone has a brilliant idea for a section. But can we do two years of that? No one asked West this when he came up with the idea of holding about twenty songs from the top of the world, with nothing more than occasional help from Andre’ Troutman, lots of lights, and a few fireworks. The idea is brilliant, and it produces fascinating reels on social media. You see 15 seconds and rush to pay the more than 200 euros the tickets cost. Then, after 15 minutes of concert, you start wondering if you turned off the air conditioning before leaving home.

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Thus, the show offers all its weaknesses at the start. Later it will turn many of them into strengths, supported by that precious and too often vilified good which is habit, and an audience, mostly babies when Kanye ruled the planet, who come together to listen to his songs and whose critical spirit we hope they keep for bigger matters. Black Skinhead and Power hold up this first third because they are imperial and the greatest proof of the greatness of their creator.

Kanye West (for some time now Ye) has the merit of being the last artist who, at the peak of his creative superpowers, simultaneously combined commercial success with sociocultural relevance and innovative discourse. After him, there have been best-selling artists and a handful of musicians who have tried to keep popular music moving forward, but none have achieved both at the same time.

West has 24 Grammys, a fortune estimated by Forbes magazine at nearly 7 billion dollars, and six years ago, his Yeezy brand, then allied with the German sports company Adidas, managed to represent 7% of the brand’s annual revenue. He married the most celebrated celebrity of the century, Kim Kardashian, and almost single-handedly turned hip hop into hegemonic culture and autotune into a respected instrument. Between 2004 and 2016, he cemented his legend as one of the most innovative and relevant musicians of the 21st century with albums full of hits like Graduation, irreverent and modern like Yeezus, or simply perfect like the triple My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, as well as producing hits for Jay Z, Rihanna, Common, or Janet Jackson. But today he appears before 70,000 people at Madrid’s Metropolitano stadium provoking a mix of curiosity, unease, guilt complex, and some melancholy. He has had to cancel his shows in the UK, Poland, France, Czech Republic, Italy, and Switzerland (besides Madrid, Istanbul, Tbilisi, Tirana, and the Algarve remain), in what seems more like a Pope’s tour than a musician’s) because local authorities have denied him permission due to his antisemitic outbursts, including last year’s attempt to release a single titled Heil Hitler. He also faces a long list of complaints for workplace and sexual harassment. A few months ago, he published an ad in The Wall Street Journal apologizing for all the damage caused and reminding, once again, that he suffers from bipolar disorder type 1.

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In these times when mental health has been placed at the center of discourse (finally, thankfully) and it is celebrated that it is spoken about openly or even celebrated that Olivia Rodrigo pays her team the psychologist, none of this has helped him awaken even a minimum of empathy. It is unjustifiable, but perfectly understandable.

That is why maybe it is so complicated to sit tonight in the stadium waiting to see him climb onto that globe that serves as a stage ―it is undeniable that his live performances have always been several steps ahead of everyone else, from his masses at Coachella to this madness he offers on this tour and which confirms that he can still surprise― and not think that, no matter how much joy his music has given you in the past, there is still something in him that makes you not really care if he slips and falls (again) down the world. He claims he remembers almost nothing ―which makes perfect sense given his condition―, you wish the same. But inside, very deep, and very quietly, you wish tonight to be a memorable night.

And it is only partly. And at times. And above all, because of the songs, tracks like Stronger or Jesus Walks or the final Runaway, which once the fascination of being here, inside the hashtag and this time against the world, is overcome, uphold the truth in the ideas and songs, in the ambition of a guy who has been left alone. And he believes he is alone at the top of the world. But no longer, no longer.

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