(t5!) Heroes Of The Zeroes Albums: #07: Kanye West – Late Registration (2005)

If someone told you around the beginning of the decade that the biggest pop music controversy in the year of 2009 was caused by something a rapper did at an award show. What would you have guessed that he had done? Something involving guns or violence provoked by beef with another rapper, like what happened at the 2000 Source Awards? A rapper rushing the stage to make inflammatory comments, like what Ol’ Dirty Bastard did at the 1998 Grammys? It would’ve taken you numerous guesses before you come up with “interrupted an award handed out to protest the objective unjustness of one of the nominees getting snubbed”, but that’s what happened between Kanye West when Taylor Swift’s “You Belong With Me” won over Beyonce’s “Single Ladies”. Then again, back then, you also probably wouldn’t have predicted Kanye West.

Kanye is most likely the most rational choice for the Artist of the Zeroes. At the start of the decade, Eminem or OutKast seemed like the most logical vote, but with both cooling off out of nowhere halfway through, the door was left wide open for Kanye to waltz into. Between his four studio albums, his dozen or so hit singles, his gazillion guest appearances, and an outstanding production discography, he made about as good a case as anyone else I can think of. At the start, he was commended only for his ability to stand for both the quarrelling fans of mainstream and underground hip-hop fans, or as he phrases it, being the “first nigga with a backpack and a Benz.” But that was just the tip of the iceberg for Kanye, a fascinating self-aware character revealed to be a blend of egotistical narcissism and crippling self-doubt, of improbable intelligence and more improbable stupidity. He’s a polarizing figure, but few can argue against his ability to transfer his craziness into some of the most memorable and unequaled music of the decade.

Before I start with his sophomore cut, I do have a soft spot for all of Kanye’s albums: The College Dropout’s showcase of his strengths and flaws as a person and artist, Graduation’s experimentation with synths and samples, 808s & Heartbreak’s bitterly cold atmosphere, even the mixtape Can’t Tell Me Nothing’s aura of spontaneity. Each release contains unequivocal pop classics, intimate songs, and sonic adventures. For my money though, Late Registration was his finest collection of work.

The album is pretty much an extension of his debut The College Dropout: an exhibit for jumbled identity, bright zeal, and vision for the grandiose. But thanks to co-producer, Jon Brion, the man behind Elliott Smith and Fiona Apple, the creator of scores for Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind and Punch-Drunk Love; the two has transformed Kanye’s maundering, seemingly unrealistic thoughts into a full-scale masterpiece. Think Spiderman 2 infused with Avatar’s extravagant graphics and 3D aesthetic. Where would “Crack Music” be without its ascending choir and prolonged outro? Where would “Hey Mama” be without the xylophone solo, wailing vocoder, and gushing synth coda? Where would “We Major” be without its majestic build-up? By letting Brion in the studio, he allowed himself room to think bigger than that already inflated head of his.

Let’s not forget that, as illustrious as he is as a producer, Kanye West is still advertised as a rapper here. Kanye sounds more honed and more seasoned. Although he doesn’t match up with Jay-Z’s cool equanimity or Nas’ emotional fervor, but he does get by with his unmistakable charisma and entertaining wit. He also enlisted some of the game’s greatest players to enhance the verses a bit: admirable rookie Lupe Fiasco on “Touch The Sky”, the scintillating Cam’ron in “Gone”, and the irradiating pairing of Paul Wall and Slim Thug in “Drive Slow”. The aforementioned Hov’ and Nas is here as well (in “Diamonds From Sierra Leone [Remix]” and “We Major”, successively), giving the album a well-deserved blessing.

With all the critical and commercial acclaim that Late Registration and his other albums garnered, it’s sort of a shock that Kanye’s controversy in 2009 has been so personally damaging, resulting in him calling off his US tour and going into hibernation (maybe he thinks of himself as the Tiger Woods of hip-hop, I don’t know). I see how people can see his antics being inexcusable—I actually agree with him that “Single Ladies” video should’ve won over “You Belong With Me”—I find it admirable that he’s concerned enough about the state of pop culture that he’s prepared to take a PR hit to grouch about what he considers an embezzlement of tangible praise for artistic achievement. He didn’t sound off on Twitter like everyone else does nowadays; he did it on a national stage in front of his collegues, sort of making him the uncorroborated pop spokesperson of our generation. Even with this fallout, it’d be difficult to argue against if I pencil him in right now as the artist of the tens as well.