Sometimes an artist will release an album or single so mediocre that you wish they would take a year off to find new inspiration, get their creative juices flowing, and try again. Over the past six years, Kanye West, who now performs under the mononym Ye, has given his fans—well, those of us who aren’t satisfied with the perfunctory work he’s been unloading between Sunday Services and meetings with Trump surrogates—a list of reasons why he could use a break.
Some already believe that the rapper’s career might be headed toward a hiatus, given the indefinite state of Donda 2. The Donda sequel was expected around the end of February but took a backseat to a series of public shenanigans, mainly his harassment of soon-to-be ex-wife Kim Kardashian and her new boyfriend Pete Davidson on Instagram. Last month, West announced that his 11th studio album would be exclusively available on a $200 portable audio device called STEM Player, citing the low percentages artists earn from streaming services like Spotify and Apple Music. As of today, West has yet to deliver Donda 2 to STEM purchasers, instead uploading 16 new tracks from the album’s listening party under the name V2.22.22 Miami onto the player. Plans to officially release the album or re-edit the batch of seemingly unfinished songs have not been announced.
Given the reception by aggrieved fans and vexed critics to what we can assume is some version of Donda 2, it doesn’t seem like there’s much West can do at this point to resuscitate the project, unless he starts from scratch. Even then, he doesn’t give fans much to be hopeful about, considering his recent string of disappointing releases, including this latest collection of songs which sound extremely undercooked.
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Rarely does a West project—until the past three years, you could argue—make you question its existence. The utter hollowness of Donda sparked little curiosity about whatever boring provocations and stunts he had left over from that era. And seeing as the rapper’s divorce is still ongoing, he hasn’t gained enough perspective on the event to make a “divorce album,” although he certainly tries. Likewise, West’s appeals for sympathy as a new divorcee throughout Donda 2 might be more digestible if bolstered by his historically skillful production and poignant lyricism. But the songs sound like a bunch of glorified GarageBand demos.
There’s also the fact that West’s self-pitying over his divorce has manifested in some disturbing behavior, like repeated public pleas to “win” Kardashian back, encouraging his fanbase to harass Davidson or torturing a claymation version of the SNL star in a music video. Breakup albums typically invite you to wallow in that universal feeling of grief, no matter how unrelatable the person relaying the songs is. However, nothing about West’s recent antics make you identify with his experience of heartbreak.
The first track, “True Love,” about West’s feelings of alienation from his children, immediately prompts eye-rolling and sounds like a call to father’s rights activists. We’ve already watched West make a public spectacle over not being invited to his daughter North’s birthday party, a claim disputed by Kardashian, and read about him purchasing a house next to hers upon their separation, which is a questionable move but also a luxury most divorced fathers don’t have. Sandwiched between XXXTentacion’s crooning, these anecdotes don’t evoke enough pathos for a compelling album opener or reveal anything revelatory or unique about his experience.
Similarly, on “Too Easy,” West sings “ain’t nobody gonna love me” repeatedly through dense auto-tune but doesn’t achieve the same masterful effect of 808s and Heartbreaks. On the other hand, “Sci-Fi,” another somber track, features some of the album’s most dynamic production and the catchiest hook (“Welcome to Sci-Fi / Make a choice / Oxygen or Wi-Fi”). Unfortunately, it’s the song that originally drew headlines for its sampling of Kardashian’s Saturday Night Live monologue in which she states that “she married the best rapper of all time.” Whether or not she consented to being on this track, hearing her cheerful voice over sad strings is eerie, to say the least. Then there’s “Security,” which features deeply un-menacing threats presumably aimed toward Davidson and sounds like a child playing with sound effects on a Casio keyboard.
There’s some respite from the Kardashian-centered tunes with “Happy” and “We Did It Kids.” While certainly not the best West can do, the former, featuring a lengthy verse from Future, is a standout and a much-needed shift from West’s listless delivery on most of the album. The two rappers boast about their wealth, while West asks, “Do I look happy to you?” in a way that immediately informs us he’s not. “We Did It Kids” is a triumphant track that owes its exuberance to Baby Keem and Migos, who go toe-to-toe on top of weirdly hushed horns. When West tries to exude this energy mostly by himself on “First Time in a Long Time,” it feels extremely dishonest.
Another notable track is “Louie Bags,” which sounds like a recent Drake deep cut. It features a shout-out to West’s longtime friend and collaborator Virgil Abloh, who passed away in November. During the chorus, West repeats, “I stopped buying Louis bags after Virgil passed” to exhausting effect—which felt reminiscent of the tedious opening track on Donda. He doesn’t commemorate the designer much further on the song, although he references Abloh’s passing in other places on the album. The song also features an unremarkable verse by Jack Harlow, whose proximity to someone as legendary as West feels absurd, even with his recent track record of embracing Gen Z rappers.
Kanye West at the Donda 2 listening party in Miami, Florida.
YouTubeSpeaking of which, most of the album’s features, many of which appeared on Donda, feel uninspired and meant to fill in gaps where West has simply run out of ideas rather than conscious pairings. Additionally, like Donda, there’s a number of men accused of sexual assault or domestic violence on this album, including Soulja Boy, The Game and XXXTentacion, whose vocals are used on two tracks.
In sum, Donda 2 or V2.22.22 Miami is decidedly non-experimental and unpolished in sound. West’s point of view has been exasperating for a while, but there was a level of humor and self-awareness that made his narcissism and hubris fun to listen to. Even at his most arrogant, you enjoyed West as a compelling guide through his own egotistical mind. But his latest batch of songs make you eager to exit his pathetic psyche.
If not for the fact that he’s screwing over fans who dropped $200 on a primarily useless Mp3 player, an album this mediocre deserves a rollout this bad. Obviously, it’s not the first time the idiosyncratic artist has struggled with deadlines and fiddled with tracks after they’ve been released digitally, like with 2016’s The Life of Pablo, which had a memorably chaotic rollout, and its follow-up Ye, which was completely redone after his infamous “slavery was a choice” rant on TMZ. But those projects, either based on years of goodwill as an exceptional artist or hype surrounding his controversial antics, gave listeners something, at the very least, to be curious about, both thematically and sonically. Donda 2 both promised and delivered nothing.
