Ranking Every Kanye West Album From Worst to Best

Breaking down one beautiful, dark, twisted discography

Kanye West Albums
Illustration by Steven Fiche

    This article originally ran in 2016 and has been updated. Welcome to Dissected, where we disassemble a band’s catalog, a director’s filmography, or some other critical pop-culture collection in the abstract. It’s exact science by way of a few beers. This time, we sort through the best and worst of Yeezy country.

    Over the years, Kanye West has been many things to many different people. He started off as Jay-Z’s secret weapon, a budding super-producer pumping out hits like “Izzo (H.O.V.A.),” “Takeover,” and “Encore,” prompting Jay-Z to interrupt The Black Album to shout, “Kanyeezy, you did it again, you a genius!” That was probably one of the last times West was called Kanyeezy, and one of the first times the g-word was tossed around.

    In 2004, West launched his solo career and sold himself to the public for the very first time. In the beginning, he was the reinvention of backpack rap, “the feeling of A Tribe Called Quest,” contained within “this guy called West.” Lots has changed since then. West has taken turns as a civil rights activist and the Louis Vuitton Don, pushed artistic boundaries and torn up shopping malls, and transformed from devout Christian to “I Am a God” and back again.


    Throughout these many evolutions, he’s kept himself a household name by staying in the headlines. Kanye West’s gift for controversy is unmatched among his peers. In the course of an album promotional cycle, he will say and do what others will not and smile as the consequences rain down on his head.

    Even his most devoted fans have at times found him exasperating, and some of his most avid haters read every story about him. Kanye West is many things, but he is never boring.


    Throughout these albums, both collaborative and solo, West displays a singular vision and a restless, probing ear. This is a discography that permanently altered the landscape of popular music. Love him, hate him, or just press <skip>, but you can’t ignore him forever. Kanye West will make sure of that.

    — Wren Graves
    Contributing Writer

    13. Jesus Is King (2019)

    Kanye West - Jesus Is King

    Good Morning (Introduction): If there’s no such thing as bad press, then Kanye West has elevated the album rollout to an art form. Jesus Is King had release dates come and go without a new record, and each miss led to another round of breathless news coverage. He supplemented these stories with escalating quotes about a newfound religiosity. West gave up cursing and asked the people working on the album to refrain from pre-marital sex. A project that once was called Yandhi was rechristened as Jesus Is King. Kanye West was born again and committed to gospel music. The only question was what West’s version of gospel would sound like.

    On Sight (Album Cover): Jesus Is King features the simplest album cover in Kanye West’s discography, simpler even than Yeezus’ plain CD with a strip of tape. Here, a blue LP sits in a blank white rectangle with the album’s title in yellow lettering. Perhaps this was meant to indicate a return to minimalism. Instead, it just underscores the lack of forethought that went into the project.

    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger (Best Sample): “Follow God” is built around a sample of “Can You Lose by Following God,” released by Whole Truth in 1974. It hearkens back to the chopped and screwed soul samples upon which West built his reputation. It’s an old formula, tried and tested, but there’s still a bit of magic in it.


    New Day (Overall Mood or Sound): West follows through on his evangelical mission, building sparse hip-hop out of choirs, organs, and whispered hallelujahs. The songs are short, in the tradition of ye and Kids See Ghosts, and the album only runs 27 minutes. Most of Jesus Is King is given over to praising God, but West occasionally loses the thread. In “On God,” West concludes the song by defending his choices as a businessman. “That’s why I charge the prices that I charge,” he shouts, perhaps referencing his expensive fashion line or Yeezy 350’s. “I can’t be out here dancin’ with the stars/ No, I cannot let my family starve!” It’s a curious way to end a song praising God, and moments like this make the album feel less than sincere.

    Mic Drop (Noteworthy Lyrics): “Closed on Sunday/ You’re my Chick’Fil’A,” West raps on “Closed on Sunday.” He repeats the line over and over again, and even squeals “Chick’Fil’A!” at the end, in case you missed the joke. This is typical of West’s approach on Jesus Is King. First, he builds a whole song out of a single half-baked punchline. The one idea used up, the rest of the track is then devoted to lectures about how you should stay off Instagram on the Sabbath. Still, with an album as humorless as this, a half-baked punchline is better than none at all.

    Real Friends (Featured Guests): There aren’t many to choose from, but the most electrifying features happen all on the same song. “Use This Gospel” reunites the Clipse, although they sound confused about their place in gospel music. No Malice raps about cocaine as Pusha T shrugs that he’s “crooked as Vegas.” But the real star of this song is Kenny G, whose piercing saxophone solo breaks the song apart. Among all the cliched lyrics and boilerplate beats, it’s wonderful to hear a real instrument for a few bars.


    I’ma Let You Finish (Conclusion): The problems have nothing to do with West’s religious intentions and everything to do with the sloppy execution. He starts an idea with one breath and forgets it in the next. The last song, “Jesus Is Lord” ends abruptly, seemingly mid-track. The beats are rarely stimulating and quite often produce a narcoleptic effect. Even the truest of true believers may find Jesus Is King to be a tough, unrewarding listen.

    — Wren Graves

    12. Cruel Summer (2012)

    Image (1) Kanye-West-Cruel-Summer.png for post 248748
    Good Morning: Following just one year after his collaborative album with Jay-Z, Cruel Summer finds Kanye West pushing himself even further back into the mix, ceding ground to the likes of Pusha-T, Big Sean, and Kid Cudi. It’s not as if West suddenly abandoned his fondness for creative control; all of the above artists had signed on to his G.O.O.D. imprint, so Cruel Summer still feels like a consummate Kanye West record even when he’s content to shine the spotlight elsewhere. With that said, this compilation album lacks the visionary direction that characterizes nearly everything else in West’s catalog, and it’s best viewed as a promotional vehicle for G.O.O.D and a palate cleanser for 2013’s Yeezus.

    On Sight: The cover for Cruel Summer was designed by DONDA, the creative agency that West founded in 2012. This makes a good deal of sense, as the album itself is meant to highlight West’s talents as a record head and all-around businessman. We’ll chalk this one up as a rare miss for DONDA, which would go on to top Cruel Summer’s bland artwork with the more aggressively minimalist marketing rollout for Yeezus.


    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: The album’s lead single, “Mercy,” features a brilliant sample of “Dust a Soundboy” by dancehall group Super Beagle. Lifted’s bombastic production lends a sinister edge to the “weeping and the moaning and a gnashing of teeth” line sung by dancehall legend Fuzzy Jones.

    New Day: It’s almost unfair to compare Cruel Summer to the rest of West’s oeuvre, as it lacks the wild ambition of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and the stylistic experimentation of 808s and Yeezus. The album does show a looser, more relaxed side of West’s personality and a greater willingness to pick his spots. Aside from immediate predecessor Watch the Throne, it’s his most radio-friendly work since Graduation.

    Mic Drop: “R. Kelly and the God of Rap/ Shitting on you, holy crap.” Holy crap is right. West took a calculated risk in even asking R. Kelly to appear on opening track “To the World,” given Kelly’s legal troubles and less-than-favorable reputation. West compares himself to a god and asserts that all sins are forgiven in his eyes, but that’s not even the boldest thing about this couplet. The “shitting on you” line indirectly references the 2002 case in which Kelly allegedly urinated on a minor. Yikes.


    Real Friends: Cruel Summer is essentially one long guest appearance, but some artists stand out more than others. It’s awesome to witness the return of ‘90s heavyweight Ma$e on “Higher,” and the Harlem rapper acquits himself admirably. Big Sean, who appears throughout the album, gets an honorable mention for his ass-related wordplay on “Mercy.”

    I’ma Let You Finish: While Cruel Summer is one of the few real misses in Kanye West’s discography, it’s also the album with the lowest stakes. West’s reputation as an artist was never resting on this compilation album, though he steals the show whenever it’s his turn to grab the mic. For a rapper at the height of his power, there are worse ways he could have chosen to flex his muscles.

    — Collin Brennan

    11. The Life of Pablo (2016)

    Good Morning: How does one introduce an album that’s already benefited (or suffered, some might argue) from one of the longest, most drawn-out introductions in the history of pop music? Let’s start with two words: Buckle in. Kanye West’s seventh studio album is a hot and holy mess that prizes the rapper’s id at the expense of his much-talked-about ego. That’s not to say that there isn’t plenty of ego spread across these 18 tracks, but nowhere else in his career to date has West sounded so uncoordinated, so instinctual, and so inspired.


    On Sight: As with nearly every other aspect of The Life of Pablo, Peter De Potter’s artwork was subject to a bit of post-release tinkering. The final version used for the album’s Tidal release is, on first glance, a bit of an eyesore. The Belgian artist superimposed the album’s title multiple times over a creamsicle background, then haphazardly placed two juxtaposing images over the text. One of these images depicts a black family gathered for a wedding photograph; the other depicts the voluptuous backside of swimsuit model Sheniz Halil.

    The contrast between the two photos is far from subtle, but it does highlight the breadth of human experience covered on the album itself. Gospel-inspired tracks such as “Ultralight Beam” seem thematically consistent with the family image, while West’s braggadocio on “Famous” and “I Love Kanye” fall right in line with a picture of a big, sexy booty. The artwork may not be pretty, but it previews exactly what we get on The Life of Pablo: a portrait of a conflicted, contradictory artist and one that isn’t always pretty.

    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: The Life of Pablo may be one of West’s most uneven solo efforts, but the sampling is consistently inspired and rarely misses the mark. Musically speaking, nothing tops the sample of Arthur Russell’s 1986 track “Answers Me” that reappears throughout “30 Hours.” Though the original track features sparse instrumentation and only the shadow of a melody, it’s all West needs in order to write one of TLOP’s most memorable hooks. As for samples culled from unexpected places, it’s hard to top the child’s voice at the beginning of opener “Ultralight Beam.” This one comes, of all places, from the Instagram account of a 4-year-old named Natalie.


    New Day: The Life of Pablo might be West’s first solo album without a discernible theme (unless you count “unbridled creativity” as a theme). This probably has a lot to do with the rapper’s self-imposed deadline and rash of last-minute edits, all of which resulted in an 18-track album that hits its share of home runs but runs off the rails in places. You’d have to go all the way back to Late Registration to find a record that leans this heavily on West’s gut instincts and so little on his meticulous sense of image management. Seven albums into his career, West has arrived at a place where he genuinely doesn’t care what you think of him, and that attitude is reflected in TLOP’s unfiltered highs and lows.

    Mic Drop: Never one to shy away from controversy, West puts on his braggadocio hat for “Famous” and fires a shot straight at pop star Taylor Swift: “I feel like me and Taylor might still have sex/ Why? I made that bitch famous.” West initially tried to pass the line off as an in-joke, but it clearly bothered Swift’s camp and led to some understandable accusations of misogyny in the press.

    Real Friends: West officially claimed the King of Rap crown on 2011’s Watch the Throne, and he must feel pretty secure in that status to invite two of rap’s biggest up-and-comers to appear on The Life of Pablo. Chance the Rapper (from West’s hometown of Chicago) drops the highlight verse on “Ultralight Beam,” and Compton’s Kendrick Lamar shows up later to knock “No More Parties in L.A.” out of the park.


    I’ma Let You Finish: It’s hard to shake the feeling that The Life of Pablo might have been a perfect 10-song album. Of course, that would be missing the point entirely. This is a sprawling mess of a record that revels in its flaws, whether it’s conscious of those flaws or not. No matter how many times West claims his art is above criticism, he can’t escape the reality that TLOP actually benefits from criticism. This album is many things: a thrill ride, a mission statement, a PR nightmare, et cetera. More important than all that, however, is the fact that it’s human. Triumphantly, undeniably, and — yes! — frustratingly human.

    — Collin Brennan

    10. ye (2018)

    Kanye West ye artwork new album

    Good Morning: Anticipation, anxiety, ambivalence, and, ultimately, exhaustion. These successive states characterized the extended rollout of 2016’s The Life of Pablo, and Kanye West took a page from the same playbook to promote follow-up ye. Logging on to Twitter after an 11-month layoff, West reintroduced himself to the world by way of a series of pseudo-philosophical missives he described as “my book that I’m writing in real time.”

    The subsequent weeks brought a cringe-inducing parade of MAGA hats, questionable right-wing endorsements, and “dragon energy” that not only tempered fans’ enthusiasm for ye but turned that enthusiasm into an ethical quandary. It all culminated in an album listening party held on a remote ranch in Wyoming, whitest of white places, during which time emcee Chris Rock lent some perspective to the preceding weeks. “Hip-hop is the first art form created by free black men,” he reminded the crowd of journalists and rap royalty, “and no black man has taken more advantage of his freedom than Kanye West.” Cue the music.

    On Sight: According to a tweet by Kim Kardashian West — how else would we receive our cultural instruction in 2018? — ye’s album artwork is a photo Kanye West took himself on the way to the aforementioned Wyoming listening party.

    It’s pretty, as far as iPhone photos of mountains go, though a lime-green scrawl complicated the scenery. “I hate being Bi-Polar its awesome” reads the text, which doubles as the theme of a lean, seven-track album that begins with some of the darkest lyrics of West’s career and ends with an outpouring of fatherly love and repentance.

    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: ye marks a welcome return to West’s soul-sampling days. The rapper-producer spent a decade exploring a harsher and more eclectic sonic palette on albums such as Yeezus and Pablo, but he props these seven tracks up against a warm wallpaper of soul, urban gospel, and ‘60s rock that recalls his earliest solo work. The standout sample arrives with “Ghost Town” and Kid Cudi’s adaptation of the 1967 Dave Edmunds gem “Take Me for a Little While,” which contorts a pub rock melody to fit with the track’s cross-section of emo and hip-hop.

    Elsewhere, West leans on Slick Rick’s “Hey Young World” (“No Mistakes”) and The Edwin Hawkins Singers’ “Children Get Together” to provide a backbone for his relatively bare-bones beats. It’s devastatingly effective when it hits, but the album’s relative minimalism otherwise holds it back from lasting transcendence.


    New Day: If The Life of Pablo’s approach was to throw everything at the wall and see what might stick, ye offers a dose of the same manic energy in a much leaner package. This approach betrays a hint of self-awareness; West seems to understand how much patience and good will he expended in the album’s protracted rollout, and he’s careful not to waste his listener’s time here.

    Opener “I Thought About Killing You” is perhaps the album’s weakest and most indulgent track, but its foray into sociopathic megalomania sets the stage for a journey that takes West through other aspects of a persona that oscillate between toxic masculinity and spiritual introspection. It’s a mixture that won’t work for everyone and one that requires a fair bit of cognitive dissonance to appreciate in light of West’s recent transgressions.

    Mic Drop: West isn’t very good at Twitter, which obscures the fact that he’s often a clever and scathing lyricist when he trades the keyboard for a microphone. Sure, ye has its share of groaners (Ex. “I love your titties cause they prove that I can focus on two things at once.”), but it also proves that West hasn’t totally lost his lyrical wits. On “Yikes,” he calls out hip-hop magnate Russell Simmons with the line, “Russell Simmons wanna pray for me, too/ I’ma pray for him ‘cause he got #MeToo’d.” It’s a feisty and subtle jab at some of the patronizing criticism he’s received in the past several years, though West admits elsewhere that he’s not above reproach.


    Real Friends: Notable guest appearances on ye include Kid Cudi, 070 Shake, and Ty Dolla $ign, but the most interesting spotlight is reserved for Nicki Minaj on closer “Violent Crimes.” The song closes with a voicemail from Minaj suggesting that West include her name in a rap about his daughter: “I hope she like Nicki, I’ll make her a monster/ Not havin’ ménages.” It’s a reminder of West’s complicated relationship with femininity on one hand, but also a frank admission that he borrowed the lines from Minaj herself. By giving another rapper — and a woman, just as importantly — the final say on his own album, he complicates the sexism and egomania apparent throughout his body of work.

    I’ma Let You Finish: With its seven tracks clocking in at a brisk 23 minutes, Ye is ultimately too lean to stand alongside West’s greatest achievements as a producer and rapper. It’s also not incredible enough to compensate for West’s grating public persona and general jackassery. Fans who refuse to engage with ye on political or ethical grounds have a point, but the album’s music offers an undeniable taste of why they cared about West in the first place.

    — Collin Brennan

    09. Kids See Ghosts (2018)

    Good Morning: A partnership with his once-estranged G.O.O.D. labelmate Kid Cudi, KIDS SEE GHOSTS arrived as Kanye West’s most anticipated collaboration since 2011’s Watch the Throne. A select group of journalists and fans were invited to an album listening party in a Southern California “ghost town” (get it?!) to celebrate the debut, but poor planning and logistics threatened to sap the energy from the proceedings. (It didn’t help that the album subsequently popped up on streaming services with the wrong tracklist.) Any signs of chaos were quickly counterbalanced by the music itself, which finds both West and Kid Cudi bearing the scars of their recent struggles but back at the top of their respective games.


    On Sight: A far cry from the muted Wyoming landscape of Ye, the album cover for KIDS SEE GHOSTS is a technicolor nightmare sprung from the mind of Japanese artist Takashi Murakami. If its rainbow hues and frenetic styling look familiar, that’s because West also collaborated with Murakami on the album artwork for Graduation. This image seems of a piece with the music itself, in the sense that it’s both reminiscent of West’s earlier iconic work and evocative of the demons — literal, figurative, who’s to say? — he’s faced in recent years.

    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: Whereas Ye leans decisively toward soul and urban gospel in its sampling, KIDS SEE GHOSTS casts a wider and more eclectic net across its seven tracks. “Cudi Montage” loops a lonely, tinny guitar melody from Kurt Cobain’s “Burn the Rain,” a choice that speaks to Kid Cudi’s own battle with depression and continues his tradition of sampling ‘90s alt-rock superstars. That one’s bound to raise some eyebrows, but the album’s most inspired sample comes courtesy of Louis Prima’s “What Will Santa Claus Say (When He Finds Everybody Swingin’)”, a swinging jazz recording that dates back to 1936. West warps the original song’s chorus, spinning it off into a twin meditation on sexual and audience gratification.

    New Day: If Ye is West’s bipolar album, KIDS SEE GHOSTS is something a bit more muddled and complex. The album takes a multifaceted approach to the theme of “ghosts,” stuffing that word with connotations that include inner demons, former selves, and pollutions of childlike innocence. For Kid Cudi, it is quite clearly a stab at redemption, both in terms of his relationship with West and his struggle with anxiety and depression that landed him in rehab in 2017. For West, it is both that and something else — a chance for him to cast off the weight of expectations and finally be free, but in a way that doesn’t ignore that darkness of his recent years. In any case, KIDS WITH GHOSTS feels very much like a new day for two rappers who desperately need one.


    Mic Drop: GHOSTS in various guises haunt this album’s verses, but none leaves a bigger impression than the Holy Ghost. Kid Cudi emerges from the personal hell of depression to croon about his faith in heaven, and his preoccupation with spirituality lends a genuinely uplifting aspect to “Reborn” and the title track. But as Yeezus reminded us, West’s relationship with Christianity is more conflicted. “Got a Bible by my bed, oh yes, I’m very Christian/ Constantly repentin’, ’cause yes I never listen,” he raps in the second verse of “Kids See Ghosts.” It’s far from a mea culpa, but for West it’s an appropriately braggadocious way to acknowledge his sins.

    Real Friends: The friend that matters most here is Kid Cudi, and the two rappers’ unique deliveries and skill sets make this a far more interesting collaboration than Watch the Throne’s extended game of one-upmanship. West’s acquiescence to the role of sidekick on tracks like “Feel the Love,” “Reborn,” and “Cudi Montage” is both gracious and essential, allowing his eccentricities (“Grrrat-gat-gat-gat-gat!”) to serve their proper role as punctuations rather than the main course. KIDS SEE GHOSTS can seem at times like an intimate airing of demons between two battle-hardened friends, but Ty Dolla $ign stops by for a cathartic moment on “Freeee (Ghost Town Pt. 2)”, and Yasiin Bey lends his expansive perspective to the memorable bridge of “Kids See Ghosts.”

    I’ma Let You Finish: Though it clocks in at around the same time as Ye, KIDS SEE GHOSTS arguably packs more meat onto its ethereal bones. The album doesn’t strive to tell a totally linear story, instead relying on the power of atmospherics and the fluid interplay between the two rappers to propel the arc forward. Its raps may not flex as hard as Pusha-T’s on DAYTONA, but that leaves room for some of West’s most precise, compelling production in years to shine through.

    — Collin Brennan

    08. Donda (2021)


    Donda Artwork

    Good Morning: Well, where do we start? Donda’s rollout is already the stuff of legend. Like Kanye himself, it’s polarized many because of the release date shifts, multiple versions of songs, evolving track listings, and just overall confusion. Even now, when it’s finally out to the world, there’s still controversy as to whether this is what Kanye intended for the world to hear, or just a warmup for another listening session in a packed stadium.

    Donda is named after Donda West, Kanye’s late mother. As a follow-up to Jesus Is King, it’s centered around religion, spirituality, Gospel music, and yes, hip-hop. Released on a Sunday morning and heavily edited, the audience Kanye (or someone) made this for is clear. Kanye is still grieving his mother and also his marriage. This is the album where he, and all of his guest, had a little talk with Jesus and relayed all of their troubles. The only question left unanswered is whether this is the actual final version of Donda, or does Mr. West have something else up his sleeve?

    On Sight: It’s nothing. Just a black cover. No name. No album title. Just black. While some may see that as avant-garde, it really speaks to the haphazard way the album came together. Even when he told us it was done what feels like months ago, it wasn’t done. The way Kanye works as of late, expect more of this if we ever get another album from him.


    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: “Believe What I Say” for the most obvious reason ever: Lauryn Hill. Sampling “Doo Wop (That Thing)” is a bold move because it’s one of the biggest songs of all time from one of the most successful albums in history. Kanye pulls it off and uses Lauryn’s voice beautifully, creating the background crooning that his raps need. For fans who want the “old Kanye” back, this might be their best glimpse of him.

    New Day: This is an album about pain, loss, suffering, forgiveness, and joy. As such, the mood shifts from one song to the next as it is mourning and celebrating the life of Donda West, while putting us on a journey with a man just trying to find peace in his life. It’s as emotional as 808s & Heartbreaks, but with a different purpose. That 2008 album was breakup music, while Donda is music for anyone who needs to feel like they’re not alone in life and struggling to keep it together.

    Mic Drop: “People sayin’ tweetin’ gonna make you die early/ how ’bout have my heart hurtin’? Hold it all inside, that could make you die early/ go on and get your best attorney.” This is Kanye West in a nutshell. He’s going to say what he says, whether we like it or not, and get his feelings out. He uses this album to do a lot of talking to God and just letting us in on the conversation. This isn’t to say his tweets are confessionals, but it’s the key insight into how all of this works for him. While he doesn’t like when people criticize him, he’s never going to stop saying how he feels. If you don’t like it, sue him.


    Real Friends: Yeah, there are a lot of people on this album; a mix of old connections, like Kid Cudi, and new connections like Lil Baby and Fivio Foreign. This feels like a sequel to Cruel Summer in its sheer scope of people coming to play with Kanye. The biggest surprise is JAY-Z’s return to the fold, as he and Kanye were on the outs in recent years. Hov said this might be the return of The Throne, so yeah, look forward to that.

    Courting the disgraced DaBaby and Marilyn Manson for the album though? Not a good look, considering they’re both steeped in controversy. And for an album dedicated to his deceased mother? Bad form.

    I’ma Let You Finish: Donda is the end of a sentence Kanye started but never finished with Jesus Is King. It’s a solid album from a guy who struggled to do so in recent years. It’s stuffed and ambitious, sometimes to a fault, but its strengths outweigh its flaws.

    — Marcus Shorter

    07. Late Registration (2005)


    Kanye Late Registration
    Good Morning: Against all odds, The College Dropout had been certified Double Platinum, and West was well on his way to superstardom. With two Grammys in his, er, sock drawer for his debut record, expectations were understandably high for West’s sophomore effort. Never satisfied to settle for what succeeded in the past, the emcee sought new inspiration, enlisting Jon Brion (whose credits included production for Fiona Apple and Elliott Smith) as a producer and tapping into a symphonic sound for even more grandiose effects.

    On Sight: Dropout Bear again is the focal point of the album cover, bathed in dramatic light and in front of two oversized university doors at Princeton. However, this time around, he’s front and center and standing, as opposed to slouched and looking down. While the bear appears small on the cover, the shadow he casts is large. West was beginning to loom large over the hip-hop world.

    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: The core soul style remained the same for West, but with a bigger budget and more creative freedom, he was able to make his sound even more multifaceted than before. West showed his ear for creating a massive pop hit by mixing Ray Charles’ “I Got a Woman” (on “Gold Digger”) with a thumping drumbeat. He adapted Shirley Bassey’s twinkling “Diamonds Are Forever” (on “Diamonds from Sierra Leone”) for an unexpected, meditative look at conflict diamonds. And a sped-up version of Otis Redding’s “It’s Too Late” (on “Gone”) was the perfect send-off as West waved goodbye to all the haters who doubted him.


    New Day: The evolution between West’s albums is relatively subtle between The College Dropout and Late Registration. The skits with DeRay Davis are still present (centered around the fraternity “Broke Phi Broke” this time around), but are reigned in when compared to the previous record. But West went all in on making the production, employing a 20-piece orchestra on “Celebration.” The dramatic strings are a consistent presence throughout the record, also on the likes of “Gone,” “Bring Me Down,” and “Late.” West deserves enormous credit for the pastiche of sounds that effortlessly coalesce on the record. The album showcases a variety of instruments, from horns to synths, in a way that doesn’t feel overwrought or bloated. The first full track, “Heard ‘Em Say,” brilliantly shows this eclectic style, which includes dreamy piano, a subtle drumbeat, and a surreal berimbau outro.

    Mic Drop: “Crack raised the murder rate in DC and Maryland/ We invested in that, it’s like we got Merrill Lynched/ And we been hangin’ from the same tree ever since.” US racial politics have always been a hallmark of West’s rhymes, and on this track the emcee brilliantly contrasts crack cocaine as a scourge of the ’hood with the fetishization of drugs and crime in hip-hop music that was increasingly being consumed by Middle America.

    Real Friends: Just a few years before Late Registration dropped, Jay Z and Nas were embroiled in one of hip-hop’s most notorious beefs. West’s choice to feature Nas on “We Major” helped bridge the gap between the two New York hip-hop veterans. (“‘We Major’ is, like, Jay’s favorite song on the album,” West said with a smile in a 2005 interview.) For his part, Nas’ verse showed his maturation as an emcee as he took an introspective look at his lyrics: “Fo-fos or Black Christ?/ Both flows would be nice/ Rap about big paper or the black man plight.”


    Emblematic of West’s rising star in the rap community, Late Registration featured many other notable guest spots (Jamie Foxx, Adam Levine, Common), but honorable mention goes to West introducing the masses to another up-and-coming Chicago rapper, Lupe Fiasco (on “Touch the Sky”).

    I’ma Let You Finish: Ever the perfectionist, West later called Late Registration “indulgent” and “poorly put together.” This seems to be an overly harsh analysis; from start to finish, the record is well-rounded and showcased how West was coming into his own as a producer who had a strong sense of the creative vision for his works. The album runs the emotional gamut from whimsical and subversive (on “Gold Digger”) to beautifully vulnerable (on “Roses” and “Hey Mama”) to defiant and proud (on “Touch the Sky,” “We Major,” and “Gone”), all hallmarks of West’s greatest traits and flaws.

    — Killian Young

    06. Watch the Throne (2011)

    Image (1) kanye-jay-watch-the-throne.jpg for post 134329
    Good Morning: How does a rapper top his most critically successful album? Bring in Hov, of course. While My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy seized much more attention than The Blueprint III, which dropped a year before, both rappers were the biggest in the world at the time. Much to fans’ benefit, they decided to capitalize on that fact. Watch the Throne was originally supposed to be a mere five-track EP, but once the duo got the creative juices flowing, it expanded to a full-length project.

    On Sight: At first, it seemed a little too obvious that an album bearing the name “throne” would be completely covered in gold. But since the album is completely permeated with luxury rap, no image is better suited. The opulent cover was designed by Riccardo Tisci, Givenchy’s Italian creative director. Because Tisci is known for conceptual fashion, it’s no surprise he was tapped for Watch the Throne, a conceptual album more or less.

    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: One of Kanye West’s greatest producing strengths is finding obscure vintage samples and amplifying them to luxurious proportions. Of his entire discography, Watch the Throne displays this strength best. Most essential to the album’s identity are the soulful nuggets, namely James Brown’s “People Get Up and Drive Your Funky Soul (Remix)” and Otis Redding’s “Try a Little Tenderness.” However, the most interesting samples are the subtle ones. Beneath all the bling and braggadocio lay snippets from The Color Purple soundtrack (1985) and Alan Lomax’s Sounds of the South (1969), which speak to the album’s nostalgia and West’s production cred.


    New Day: Brimming with orchestral and prog rock influences, Watch the Throne is a more decadent version of MBDTF. Much of West’s fame can be attributed to his departure from shallow themes of gangsta rap, but that’s generally forgotten on Watch the Throne. Certainly, more serious tracks like “Murder to Excellence” and “Made in America” offer a candy-coated version of West’s social commentary. By-and-large, though, Watch the Throne swaps anger and darkness for opulence and commercialism.

    Mic Drop: “Sunglasses and Advil/ Last night was mad real.” As non-poetic as this YOLO-esque line sounds, it’s delivered with so much emphasis on top of the album’s coolest beat that it has become internet history. It’s excessive and a bit childish, but so is Kanye West.

    Real Friends: Leave it to Frank Ocean to get us thinking about life’s big questions on a luxury-themed pop rap album. “Human beings in a mob/ What’s a mob to a king/ What’s a king to a god,” he asks on “No Church in the Wild.” When this brooding track dropped, it was the first time the ever-elusive Ocean surfaced after releasing Nostalgia, Ultra, and it was refreshing to hear from our old friend again.


    I’ma Let You Finish: Watch the Throne is a highly underrated album, and that’s most likely due to its timing in West’s career. If it weren’t cast inMBDTF’s shadow, it probably would’ve be seen as a more pivotal record. In honor of Yeezy Season, I encourage everyone to give this gold-plated opus the relisten it deserves (preferably while wearing a Margiela jacket in a Rolls Royce Corniche).

    — Danielle Janota

    05. Graduation (2007)

    Kanye West Graduation
    Good Morning: On his third studio album, Kanye took a page out of his most recent tour mates U2’s book and crafted a record full of stadium rock-esque hip-hop that would be well suited to perform in the arenas that West finally had the name recognition to play in. Songs like “Stronger,” “Good Life,” and “Can’t Tell Me Nothing” hit the radio and the mainstream consciousness with an urgency that West’s past work hadn’t achieved, while the album continued his streak of critical acclaim. The pop-leaning sensibility of the record grabbed everyone, and there was a collective realization that this guy could really do it all. Graduation also holds a place in history as the moment hip-hop started leaning away from a more traditional gangster rap sound, when the record was released the same day as 50 Cent’s Curtis and outsold that album by a significant margin.

    On Sight: Dropout Bear makes his final appearance, fittingly being ejected from a university planet of sorts, completing his journey through the education system in typical bombastic Kanye fashion. The album cover was designed by Japanese artist Takashi Murakami, sometimes referred to as “the Warhol of Japan,” who used a post-modern style that combined anime and manga. When explaining the artwork, Murakami said, “Kanye’s music scrapes sentimentality and aggressiveness together like sandpaper, and he uses his grooves to unleash this tornado that spins with the zeitgeist of the times.” That’s an appropriately out-there statement from a Kanye associate, and their collaboration yielded one of Kanye’s most memorable album covers to date.

    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: This marked the moment in Kanye’s career where he felt a change was necessary, mostly abandoning all of his past production customs (soul samples on College Dropout, ornate orchestral pop on Late Registration) in favor of largely synth-dominated tracks. Changing up the method by which he was crafting his beats allowed him to find new influences to draw from, and this shift outside of traditional hip-hop structure led him to rock and roll. In a search to be more stadium-friendly, Kanye drew from popular alternative acts like The Killers, Radiohead, and Keane. These influences are apparent throughout the album, especially on songs like “Flashing Lights” and “Homecoming,” which are arena-friendly in every way without pandering too much.


    New Day: Graduation is an enigma, in that it closed off his education-themed three-album cycle while at the same time kicking off a new direction for him. With influences as wide-ranging as krautrock, reggae, and synth pop, it certainly seems like this is the album where Kanye started using the internet to its full potential to discover a number of potential directions. Seeing how things have turned out since this album, it’s clear this was the moment the floodgates of Kanye’s artistic drive really burst wide open. To borrow a line from a rapper who isn’t Kanye, nothing was the same.

    Mic Drop: “Have you ever popped champagne on a plane, while gettin’ some brain/ Whipped it out, she said, ‘I never seen Snakes on a Plane,’” Kanye raps on “Good Life,” his ode to stunting. It’s not a terribly out-of-the-ordinary reference or boast, but this album is largely without absurd or quotable lyrics, so a mention of the Samuel L. Jackson and Kenan Thompson thriller is reason enough for excitement.

    Real Friends: Graduation is largely devoid of guests, and the majority of the artists who show up are exclusively there to provide hooks. Mos Def, DJ Premier, and T-Pain contribute the most notable hooks, while Lil Wayne has the only guest rap verse of the record on “Barry Bonds.” Coldplay singer Chris Martin lends a hand on “Homecoming,” assisting West in his quest for stadium stardom.


    I’ma Let You Finish: Likely the most important turning point in Kanye’s career, Graduation isn’t his best record, but it’s clearly the moment he blossomed into the experimental mad scientist of rap. Songs like “Stronger” and “Good Life” have stood the test of time in the populist opinion, even though West’s sound has long since evolved past such upbeat synthy pop goodness. In the lexicon of records where an artist is transitioning between musical phases, Kanye’s Graduation is arguably one of the strongest.

    — Pat Levy

    04. 808s & Heartbreak (2008)

    Image (1) 808s.jpg for post 373108
    Good Morning: 808s is the dark horse of Kanye West’s catalog. It’s beloved by critics and has been hugely influential on the state of hip-hop and music at large since its 2008 release. It’s also derided for being “the robot voice” album by a ton of idiots, many of whom let Peter Frampton cook with that talkbox shit for most of the ’70s and ’80s. So the album is somehow one of Kanye’s most beloved albums and also his most disparaged, encapsulating the conundrum that is Kanye quite well.

    On Sight: Kanye’s most minimal artwork, the cover of 808s & Heartbreak is simply a deflated heart-shaped balloon. It’s straightforward but sends the exact message it was intended to. Kanye was going through some shit, and his heart felt empty. What better way to show that than an empty heart? It’s so brilliant it’s dumb and vice versa.


    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: This record is the Sistine Chapel of Auto-Tune. The continuation of Kanye’s synth obsession from Graduation combined with the emotional turmoil he was in the midst of came together to form an album that sounds like it was recorded on the ice planet Hoth. It’s cold, eerie, and isolationist, but at the same time hauntingly beautiful and epic in moments. As a result of his emotional state, Kanye felt he could convey himself better singing than rapping, and his self-awareness when it comes to his singing voice led him to the use of Auto-Tune. To be honest, it was the smartest thing he’s ever done.

    New Day: Gone is the upbeat nature and arena readiness of Graduation, replaced by avant-garde and deeply emotional electropop more suited for headphones on a rainy day. Losing his mother between Graduation and 808s, as well as the end of his engagement to his girlfriend of nearly half a decade, left Kanye in a desolate place, and he embraced those valleys for the sake of his art. The alienation that fame brings also played a huge part in West’s inspiration for the record, and it seems possible that distancing himself even further from his public persona with the use of Auto-Tune was an even more self-aware move than just knowing his voice wasn’t up to snuff.

    Mic Drop: Kanye wasn’t in the right headspace emotionally to be churning out any memorable lyrics, but luckily Young Jeezy stopped by on “Amazing” to discuss his health. “Standing at my podium, I’m trying to watch my sodium/ Die high blood pressure either let the feds catch ya,” he rapped, either referencing his past as a cocaine dealer or legitimately letting the audience know he’s monitoring his sodium intake. I like to think it’s the latter.


    Real Friends: Kid Cudi, Young Jeezy, and Lil Wayne all stopped by to drop some verses, and G.O.O.D. Music’s most confusing member, Mr. Hudson, appears as well, but the album’s star guest is T-Pain. The Auto-Tune Godfather, T-Pain was in the studio towards the end of recording to help West properly use the technology, and boy did he help in a big way. Auto-Tune mentor isn’t the showiest role, but T-Pain filled it with poise and undeniable talent.

    I’ma Let You Finish: This album is a masterpiece and might have been considered Kanye’s best record had he not put out another masterpiece just two years later — and started his career with one. The emotional depths to which he was able to reach for source material must have been excruciating to explore, like one of those deep-sea submarine rides with James Cameron. A vulnerable Kanye combined with drum machine-dominated electropop and perfect use of the much maligned Auto-Tune yielded a record that will surely be looked back on for years to come as an immaculate project.

    — Pat Levy

    03. Yeezus (2013)

    Good Morning: When it comes to Yeezus, the first word that comes to mind is polarizing. Kanye West’s sixth solo album marked a new point in his life, and the aggressive production style reflects that. An intensely scrutinized relationship, a baby on the way, and frequent public rants made West a flaming-red target for the media. Luckily, that added fuel to the creative fire. All of this negative attention resulted in his most unconventional and artistically mature record to date.


    On Sight: When minimalism is the goal, no artwork is the best artwork. West went great lengths to ensure the album, which was inspired by minimalist Le Corbusier architecture, stayed simple. In fact, he was so committed that he sent the album to Rick Rubin days before its release to strip it down even further. Not only does the blank CD jewel box cover attest to these efforts, but it also represents the mp3 blips and CD skip sounds that occur throughout Yeezus.

    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: Yeezus’ diverse production style can be attributed to its wide variety of collaborators. When you combine French electronic gurus Daft Punk, Gesaffelstein, and Brodinski, with trap all-star Hudson Mohawke, and the ever-hushed Justin Vernon, you’re (bound 2) get interesting results. Unlike the samples in West’s older tracks, which carried the whole song (think “Gold Digger,” “Otis”), they were used more sparingly here. The exception to this is audacious trap banger “Blood on the Leaves,” which wouldn’t be possible without Nina Simone’s dissonant vocals.

    New Day: The most comparable album to Yeezus is 808s and Heartbreak due to its electronic foundation. But, production-wise, Yeezus is in its own league. With titles like “Black Skinhead” and lines about “broke nigga racism,” the album clearly has a social agenda. Unlike previous albums that used musicality to make West’s social manifestos more palatable, Yeezus just lets them fester.


    Mic Drop: “You see there’s leaders/ And there’s followers/ But I’d rather be a dick than a swallower.” Vulgar, blunt, and confrontational, no other line better describes West’s persona at this time. Even though he continuously delivers some of the most innovative work in the industry, people will never fully forget his denouncement of Bush on live TV, the Taylor Swift Grammy run-in, and the countless public rants. With lines like this, West makes sure of that.

    Real Friends: From Daft Punk to Paul McCartney, West always manages to swing guest appearances by the industry’s most divine. Yeezus is no exception. “I Am a God” features the Lord, himself. In fact, God is the album’s only listed feature, but from producers Arca, Gesaffelstein, and Evian Christ to past West collaborators Frank Ocean, Kid Cudi, Justin Vernon, and Chief Keef.

    I’ma Let You Finish: Given the eccentric concepts and production style, Yeezus is West’s most ambitious project. The fact that a single album can cause the public such an immediate gut reaction, whether positive or negative, proves its intangible power. Following The College Dropout, the direction of West’s work has always been up. More collaborations, bigger sounds, and better concepts made each album grander than the last. With Yeezus, though, the direction takes a sharp left, proving that he may very well be the creative genius that he claims.

    — Danielle Janota

    02. The College Dropout (2004)


    Good Morning: This is the beginning, where the legend of Kanye West (the rapper) was born. After a long come-up through the Chicago scene, West started gaining a foothold in the mainstream, producing for Jay Z on tracks like “Izzo (H.O.V.A.)” and “’03 Bonnie and Clyde.” But the Chicago musician decided that he wanted to make the transition to rapping. A catastrophic car crash left the aspiring emcee with a shattered jaw and his mouth wired shut, the eventual inspiration for his first single, “Through the Wire.” While West recorded through 2003, 50 Cent dominated the charts with the machismo of Get Rich or Die Tryin’. As frequently referenced throughout The College Dropout, West had trouble securing a record deal before signing with Roc-A-Fella. “Through the Wire” and “Jesus Walks” were just so different from tracks like “In da Club.” As West rapped in “All Falls Down”: “We all self-conscious/ I’m just the first to admit it.”

    On Sight:
    The College Dropout set the standard for West’s later album artwork, featuring the iconic “Dropout Bear” mascot. Positioned alone in a set of bleachers, the character reflected both West’s isolation and fierce independence: hip-hop outsider, university defector, swaggering entertainer. According to Eric Duvauchelle, who helped create the cover, “The gold ornaments on the cover around the image represented the admiration Kanye has for art, and he wanted to drastically depart from the typical image of rap at the time — to bring a sense of elegance and style to what was typically a gangster-led image of rap artists.” These regal details would later recur with the album art for Watch the Throne.

    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: Aretha Franklin lent West her “Spirit in the Dark” for “School Spirit.” The condition? No cussing. Even the explicit cuts of the album feature slurred profanities (although you can find the uncensored version online). There were also glimpses of West’s future sounds from Auto-Tune inflection (on “The New Workout Plan” and “Graduation Day”) to ominous production (on “Two Words”). And comedian DeRay Davis lent his voice for the record’s skits, a role which he’d reprise on Late Registration.

    New Day: This record is the standard bearer for West’s style. Focused on a sweet soul-sampling style honed through his days as a producer, The College Dropout was a significant departure from the Crunk/Dirty South sound that carried the day. By incorporating and altering the likes of soul staples from Marvin Gaye (on “Spaceship”) to Chaka Khan (on “Through the Wire”), West created a sound that has largely stood the test of time.


    Mic Drop: “They be askin’ us questions, harass and arrest us/ Sayin’, ‘We eat pieces of shit like you for breakfast’/ Huh? Y’all eat pieces of shit? What’s the basis?/ We ain’t going nowhere, but got suits and cases.” West’s impeccable command over double entendres and subtle wordplay is what warrants repeat listenings of his records. In a nine-word punchline, “Jesus Walks” packs in multiple readings of this line set up by West’s condemnation of police brutality and the criminal justice system.

    Real Friends: “Slow Jamz,” the collaboration between West, Jamie Foxx, and Twista, became each artist’s first No. 1 hit. (The track appeared on both The College Dropout and Twista’s Kamikaze.) And for his part, fellow Chicago rapper Twista brought his signature fast-paced flow. Honorable mention goes to Common’s guest verse, which closed out “Get ’Em High” and took aim at the state of hip-hop at the time.

    I’ma Let You Finish: As a debut record, The College Dropout was an incredible first step that showed West’s immense potential. The record’s core message of believing in yourself despite the haters remains universal, even if its skit-based narrative structure sounds a little outdated to modern ears. The fact remains that The College Dropout boasts many classic West cuts, including “Jesus Walks,” “All Falls Down,” “Spaceship,” “Through the Wire,” and “We Don’t Care” and is deserving of its almost immediate canonization.


    And what makes this album resonate is that despite his swagger, West was still close enough to an ordinary life that he felt the urgent need to prove his worth as a rapper. His introspection on the likes of “Spaceship” showed the banality of the 9-to-5 lifestyle. The College Dropout put West on the road to superstardom, but this record will remain engraved in history as a testament to the time when splitting the buffet at KFC was still close in his rearview mirror.

    — Killian Young

    01. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy (2010)

    Kanye West - My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy Artwork
    Good Morning: Written and recorded after the infamous 2009 VMA incident and West’s tumultuous breakup with model Amber Rose, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is everything it purports to be: dark, twisted, and undeniably beautiful. It is, paradoxically, a near-perfect hip-hop record that gains strength from its messiness and vulnerability. This version of West bares his heart as much as the version that appeared two years earlier on 808s and Heartbreak, but there’s another side to him that’s more sinister and less willing to submit his ego to public scrutiny. Even in verses crowded with details about his inner turmoil (e.g. Verse 2 of “Power”), West finds room to fire shots at his detractors and reassert his status as the greatest in the game. My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy changed the rules of that game altogether, expanding hip-hop’s raw confessionalism while making it sound bigger than arena rock.

    On Sight: American contemporary artist George Condo conceived the original artwork for My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, which depicts an armless phoenix straddling a nude likeness of West. Condo also created several alternative covers for the album, and his painting of a ballerina in a black tutu became the version sold in most stores. Though a total of five original artworks were included in the album’s insert, the phoenix aligns most closely with the album’s confrontational pose and racially charged, sexually explicit subject matter.


    Harder, Better, Faster, Stronger: The album’s stunning opener, “Dark Fantasy,” combines a sample of Mike Oldfield’s “In High Places” with an updated spoken-word take on Roald Dahl’s Revolting Rhymes courtesy of Nicki Minaj. This may not be the album’s high point in terms of sampling, but it certainly sets the stage for the wild ride ahead. The best and most memorable sample arrives two songs later in “Power,” which takes its central hook from King Crimson’s “21st Century Schizoid Man.” This track exemplifies West’s kitchen-sink approach to songwriting, which doesn’t discriminate between contemporary hip-hop and late-’60s British prog rock.

    New Day: My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is the work of a man with something to prove — both to himself and to a world that had largely turned him into a punchline. Graduation sounds like a triumph, and 808s sounds like the brutal comedown from that triumph, but My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy sounds like the triumph and the comedown all at once. It’s the definitive Kanye West record because it showcases all of the rapper’s thrilling incongruities at the same time.

    Mic Drop: “And what’s a black Beatle anyway, a fucking roach?/ I guess that’s why they got me sitting in fucking coach.” This line from the third verse of “Gorgeous” ranks among West’s very best, encapsulating his concerns with racial politics, his confrontational egoism, and his penchant for brilliant wordplay.


    Real Friends: It’s hard to argue with the full minute of insanity Nicki Minaj throws down on “Monster.” Not only does she steal the song from West and fellow guest star Jay-Z, but she builds the stepping stone that would eventually take her solo career to the next stratosphere.

    I’ma Let You Finish: Normally, a rap album that dwells on the dark side of fame and fortune would be met with rolled eyes or dismissed outright as just another exercise in celebrity navel-gazing. But nothing about My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is normal. This masterpiece of an album doesn’t bend genres so much as smash them together in a particle accelerator, and it performs the same trick with its core themes of love, celebrity, and social exile.

    — Collin Brennan


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