The story behind Kanye West’s fifth studio album is arguably more enticing than the one provided in the music. This is an especially bold claim considering My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy is one of a handful of records to receive a perfect ‘10’ rating from esteemed music publication, Pitchfork. Anyway, allow me to divulge the story about which I’m talking. Subsequent to Kanye’s infamous showing at the 2009 VMAs where he drunkenly stormed the stage, snatched the mic from winner Taylor Swift, and proclaimed to the world that Beyoncé produced “one of the best videos of all time” (i.e. Single Ladies), the Chicago hip-hop icon withdrew himself from the contiguous United States in a “self-imposed exile” to Hawaii. There, West instituted a strict lockdown policy over his crew which comprised engineers, chefs, and a list of artists as star-studded as the constellations Kanye tells us to put our hands to in Devil in a New Dress. The result of this meticulous artistic process was a body of work significantly more maximalist than any of West’s previous works.
Reflection and apology are undoubtedly two of, if not the, biggest themes of MBDTF. The record begins with Teyana Taylor inquiring if there’s any room for them, black Americans at the peak of their powers, to grow and ends with Gil Scott-Heron asking a completely antithetical question – will they even survive? In between the album’s bold intro and conclusion are lay almost too many profound and noteworthy moments to document with a few standouts being West’s cathartic realization that he is the “abomination of Obama’s nation,” Nicki Minaj’s breakout verse on Monster, and the entirety of Runaway. In my opinion, Runaway is definitively West’s best song, another bold claim on my part when taking into full account the smorgasbord that is West’s catalogue. However, before I touch on the album’s cornerstone track, there are several preceding noteworthy moments worth analyzing. I’ll do this quickly. Gorgeous is six minutes of quotable bars delineating the racial injustices that pervade American society. All of the Lights expounds West’s gripes with the lack of privacy associated with fame.
Monster contains the greatest feature verse of the 2010s. Runaway. When reviewing this album, online music critic Anthony Fantano stated that he thinks it’s essential to be “a fan or at least be interested in Kanye on a personal level” to enjoy the album. And while I mostly disagree with that claim, I won’t deny that knowledge of Kanye’s, and specifically this album’s, backstory adds another element to the listening experience. Nonetheless, Runaway possesses the relatability aspect that is present in most great songs. On the one hand, it’s a response to the Taylor Swift furor and a remorseful meditation on his relationship with Amber Rose. On the other, it’s a douchey ultimatum – “leave or with it.” In many ways, Runaway is an anthem for its hook’s superfecta of contemptibility. Kanye doesn’t describe his routine pessimism and finger pointing as major character flaws but rather as skills. The reason why I consider Runaway to be hands down his best song and why it will always be one of my favorite songs in general is because it isn’t just the thesis for MBDTF, it’s the thesis for Kanye West. He’s an crazy, cocky, gifted, asshole and that won’t change anytime soon.
Reverting to the opening track, West raps, “the plan was to drink until the pain over, but what’s worse, the pain or the hangover?” Perhaps, the painful experiences that West details throughout the album drove him to his VMAs stupor and the “hangover” was the national backlash. Kanye ventured to Hawaii clutching a bottle of Advil with sunglasses over his eyes and left with free from shame and headache, and ready to drink again. So rather than a toast for the douchebags, assholes, scumbags, and jerk-offs, let’s have a toast for Kanye, the tragic hero we love to loathe.