Kanye being Kanye

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This article was published 12/10/2016 (3586 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

If traditional albums are print, then Kanye West’s The Life of Pablo is the Internet.

Most studio albums are a fixed, immutable document — a commitment to record. The American rapper’s eighth studio album, which came out earlier this year, is, as he tweeted, a “living breathing changing creative expression.” West was editing The Life of Pablo long after its February release. Tinkering with a beat here, adding new lyrics there. It’s a forward-thinking, challenging record, variously described by critics as “imperfect,” “messy,” “frustrating.” (And these were mostly positive reviews.)

The Life of Pablo is an ambitious album by an ambitious artist. But more than that, The Life of Pablo is risky. Even the way it was released was risky: it debuted on Tidal, a subscription-based music streaming site owned by West’s pal Jay Z, and digital downloads could be bought for $20 from West’s site. There are no physical copies, and you can’t buy it on iTunes. And yet, this week, the album was certified platinum, with one million digital copies sold. 

Risk is also a defining element of West’s 39-date Saint Pablo Tour, which stopped at the MTS Centre Wednesday night. The few video screens were often grainy, and the “light show” came via the audience’s iPhones. It was just Kanye, on a suspended platform that floated above the floor of the arena. Fans on the floor were actually able to stand underneath the stage, which seems like a security nightmare. The stage was mostly dark save for a dim spotlight — which would give it a sweaty basement club vibe if not for the rumbling, sternum-shattering bass. 

The floor was already pulsing when West appeared just after 9 p.m, opening the show with Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 1 and Famous off the new record. A lot of the nuance and texture from the songs on the new album was swallowed up by the cavernous room, but “nuance” isn’t what this crowd was after. During a particularly hard-hitting rendition of his 2011 collaboration with Jay Z Niggas in Paris, the pit — bathed only in dim red light — was as aggressive as I’ve seen it for metal shows. It was stressful to watch, especially when the floor was blackout dark. 

Although the set was heavy on cuts from Pablo, West drew from all over his catalogue, going back to 2007 for Can’t Tell Me Nothing and 2010 for a mammoth Power, so you can’t say it wasn’t a crowd-pleasing set. But it was a frustrating one, too — which was likely by design. The floating stage became somewhat of a moving target, and it was often hard to get a visual on him. And some songs were pummelled into oblivion by bass. 

Still, there were more highs than lows. Feedback and Wolves — which contains haunting vocals courtesy of Australian experimentalist Sia — served as back-to-back mid-set gems.

It was striking to hear how well the new stuff went over. It’s rare to hear the crowd sing along to every word of the new album; usually new material is merely tolerated. But Winnipeg was worshipping at the shadowy alter of Kanye on Wednesday night. At press time, though, they were carrying the chorus of Heartless from 2008’s 808s & Heartbreak.

No traditional stage, no banter, no light show. It was risky, to be sure, but no one can accuse Kanye West of not having a vision. As far as concerts go, it was challenging, frustrating, audacious, and quite unlike any other. 

In other words, it was so Kanye. 

jen.zoratti@freepress.mb.ca

Twitter: @JenZoratti