The Trump permission structure for Kanye
Separating the art from the madness.
Ye, the artist still known as Kanye West, dropped his eleventh album last Tuesday night and the traditional music hierarchy largely chose to ignore it. The reasons are apparent as an Ultralight Beam: Ye’s manic antisemitic outbursts have alienated even his friends and allies and rendered him radioactive to a mainstream audience. Before he dropped Donda 2 on streaming services, Kanye released a track titled WW3, in which he mocks the outrage around his supposed and regrettable adoration for Nazis.
They say I’m acting like Hitler
But how am I acting like Hitler
When I’m a fucking n - - - - -
As intentionally odious as the lyrics are, the musicality of WW3 is undoubtedly exceptional. It hit number one on both Spotify’s German (!) and Global playlists and rose to number two in Israel, which means there are tens of thousands who are bumping the beat who probably would never admit to it. Donda 2, which was made and teased out in 2022 prior to Kanye’s newfound spiral into Nazism, has similarly received accolades for its distinctive soundscape — though in the typical chaos that surrounds a modern Kanye release, three of the album’s most magnetic songs featuring Future were taken down within the week, likely because he or his team haven’t cleared them for release and may not want to be associated with an increasingly tarnished Ye.
The tension between the despondency around Ye’s absurd rhetoric and the genuine pleasure from his exemplary production prowess demonstrates the dilemma of the modern day Kanye fan. As someone who has deliberately chosen to separate the art from the man, I’ve found myself hesitantly relying on the rationale of the reluctant