Kanye West and My Beautiful Not-Dark Untwisted Memories
When flawed men make great music, what happens to the memories synced to their songs?
One afternoon in the spring of 2008, the sky above Manhattan’s SoHo neighborhood pictured perfect. The only sight prettier was an angel with chocolate curvature crossing Prince Street. Suddenly Kanye West zipped past me on foot. We locked eyes, both surprised. After covering him over the years as a music journalist, we’d developed a professional rapport, but hadn’t seen each other in months. He gave one final look at the young lady walking in the other direction, and then made his decision. We traded a strong pound and warm hug, then spoke in front of the Mercer Hotel for half an hour. He was excited about the “next levelness” of his upcoming album (808s & Heartbreak), but was most passionate about his Glow in the Dark tour — the inspiration, the vision, the budget issues created by his vision. He insisted that I attend the New York show.
I’d been a fan of Kanye’s beats since 1999, when he produced Eminem on “Stir Crazy,” and of his rhyme bars after hearing his verse on 2002’s “Champions.” Yet seeing what he executed at Madison Square Garden is what convinced me he was the creative genius he proclaimed to be four years earlier, when he stood on my editor in chief’s desk and rapped…
