It all started with “I Wonder.” I could rap along to “All Falls Down.” I thought “Jesus Walks” was a top tier music video. “Diamonds from Sierra Leone” was my favorite song with him and Jay-Z on it. To this day, “Good Morning” is my alarm clock. Yet, the story about making dreams a reality or the possibility of running into the unknown, that got to me. At a time when I couldn’t even fully comprehend the subject matter, it didn’t matter. It got me. And I’ve been a Kanye fan ever since.

At a certain point people were forced to make a decision about Kanye West; whether or not one could separate a person’s art from the artist. It’s come up a lot over the past couple of years but 2018 took it to extreme measures with red hats, full-blown breakdowns and rants on stage, White House visits, and a few personal rap beefs. The most notable were the ones held with West’s “older brother” and the biggest star in the game.

June 2018 was Kanye’s month. Not at first, his rival would claim. People knew something was in the works with Kanye and his Wyoming sessions. Most of G.O.O.D. Music’s recording cast pulled up and a few more familiar names. The world expected one project. Kanye delivered five personally produced albums in collaboration with Pusha T, Kid Cudi, Teyana Taylor, and Nas. He even had enough left in the tank to roll out his very own album, "Ye".

Kanye begins his album with a spoken word piece about suicide. He frames it as a conversation held with himself. He discusses the idea of loving oneself but even then there’s a need to weight the options. There’s simplicity to just ending it. He understands what he’s saying by stating “I think this is where I’m supposed to say somethin’ good/ to compensate it so it doesn’t come off bad/ but sometimes I think really bad things.” He hints at the main source of this feeling being connected to depression. He also discusses how it could have been set of from an opioid addiction or, as the world would find out later, his struggle with bipolar disorder. As he would state in an interview the song was more than just about him. In a “pc” world where people “forget that [celebrities are] daughters, a son, a mom, a dad,” Kanye wants to fight for “all of us.” He wants there to be more open dialogue about mental health and, for people struggling with mental health, to find a way to express themselves.

After Kanye’s introduction to the album, he dives head first into his opioid addiction. Based on his name-dropping of “2C-B” and “DMT,” listeners learn of his use of psychedelic drugs. The drugs gave him a high that could be compared to being “reborn.” In this “reborn” state, he isn’t himself. During this time he might go off in a TMZ interview, cheat on his wife, or even end up in the hospital. At that point, it doesn’t matter who you are, you’re still in a hospital bed. It’s not a “clout” chase but it does bring about a different type of fame. Fame Kanye could have avoided if he had listened to “Prince and Mike.” Or even just taken note.

With fame and money comes the struggle with power. Kanye compares this power as to that of a “genie out the bottle.” Just as all humans, celebrities are not immune to lapses in character. Kanye chooses to indulge the one that is prominently exposed in the world of the upper echelon: infidelity. He name-drops a couple of people known to be caught up in scandal. This includes one actress known for “Scandal” and a former pornographic actress. By the end, Ye throws in a sneak diss and wraps up the discussion. Celebrities are human too.

In the middle of Kanye’s exploring of his mental state, he drops an ode to his wife, Kim Kardashian. All in all, he raps about his ups and downs publicly and financially. Opinions of the Kardashian family aside, his wife stood by his side. When everyone cut Ye down, she was there. As he would state, “[I] was written off.” When he was “on” and “up” in the face of the media he had his family to fall back on. All the while, Kim “wouldn’t leave.” Kanye delivers a message for both the men that have done wrong and the women who have accepted their men at the end. Like many of his fans that want Kanye to shine again, Kanye is ready to move on from the past. He wants to intentionally live in the now versus the present and the past. Lest he discuss it for “‘nother four centuries.” 

The shots at Drake step up later in the album in symphony with discussion of the lows dealing with mental health. It was a “shaky-ass year” for a Kanye becoming wiser from the controversy of his media appearances and financial pitfalls. Nonetheless, he took it in stride. He dealt with the consequences of his decisions. One being, a fallout with someone he had grown to “like.” The compliment is backhanded as he would then state that if he could he would “snipe” or “fight” Drake if it were not for his own celebrity status and the physical closeness in proximity to their California homes. Instead, Kanye boldly states “Calm down, you light skin!”

As Kanye processes the goal of moving forward he gets an assist from Kid Cudi, PARTYNEXTDOOR, and 070 Shake. Each of the contributors embodies Kanye’s goals in the shape of relaxation, desire, and innocence. Ultimately, leading to a space of acceptance. Credit needs to be given to the amazing vocals provided by 070 Shake as she wraps up the song with a lasting and loaded visual of putting ones’ hand on the stove to see if “I still bleed.” This idea of self-harm to experience pain is not one that is misheard. Kanye spoke on the idea of feeling numb to the world, to the pain, to feeling anything. In his own verse, Kanye touches on all of the conjoined emotions with nothing else but a hope to “maybe some day” reach the point he most desires; a point that allows him to feel.

Ye concludes the album with a topic he had refrained from for the whole album: fatherhood. Though others have dove into the joys of being a parent, Kanye explores his fear of having children: daughters specifically. His mindset has moved past the idea of women being something to “conquer” and now understands his role to “nurture” his daughter. He fears his daughters looking like their mother because he “know[s] what [men] want.” He’d rather his daughters stick to honing their potential crafts. He fears the pedophilia found in comment sections, misogyny, and the potential abuse his daughters might face. The song represents his personal fear but it also doubles as an admission to his own flaws. He understands that he is part of the culture that showcases women as objects in the line “Niggas is pimps, niggas is players, ’til niggas have daughters.” Kanye was rewarded.

As an album, Kanye becomes transparent with not only himself but also his fans. Listeners gain clarity and some sort of explanation for what their artist has been going through. The album is a walk through the past few years of Kanye West’s life. It had been scary to watch. It was heartbreaking to listen to. There were times where conversations were held to whether or not Kanye was still Kanye. Meme’s and jokes were made at the expense of a human being and a family. In his “ramped” up states he was another person to the world, but to himself, in those moments, he was at his closest to the universe. The Sunday Service performances weren’t spawn from nothing. It was an idea sprung from the need to be creative in a safe space. How can culture be appropriated if it comes from a place of love and understanding? Just because something is given celebrity treatment, it doesn’t make it any less real. Celebrity status is only a mix of wealth and notoriety. At the core of it even our idols are, in-fact, human. Kanye’s journey proves it to be so. He couldn’t hide from them with all the monetary things he acquired in his life. He chose to reconnect with the things that mattered most in his life: his family and his creativity. Only then could he be Kanye West.

As the album artwork would depict, there is a certain beauty to a rough terrain.