45 minutes of gameplay here

you’re a sick demented freak

no groove, guidance needed

That's just what p**** looks like up close man

7 days a week

??

ayo?

um real grinders go 8 days a week 25 hours a day

wait yall be having s***with women???

photoshop and deep fakes are getting too good these days

we’re having ourselves a silly goofy time

Does putting a hole in a pizza box count

vibes dead, this is mid, lock it up

this mid locked yet?

ofc it does lol what

Oh ok i actually have done s***twice

wrong thread, i think u ment to post in here
ktt2.com/album-6-thread-275/4340#latest

streets saying tlop is better, its over ktt2.com/donda-vs-tlop-32494916/1#post-30957523

It is but that's hardly an insult

instagram.com/p/CTfKR9wLkJa

Is Kanye West serious? This is the first thing I asked myself listening to Donda, and it's not as snide a question as it sounds; it's genuinely hard to tell. While his diehard fans await his long-delayed Yandhi, West opted instead to release this—*a 120-minute, double-disc gospel album, unfiltered and unpolished even compared to his 2018 gospel album Jesus Is King. West is not a very good singer or guitarist, and his artlessly blunt lyrics are even more exposed in this context. So what are we to make of this? It's tough to guess the motives of someone who commissions Marilyn Manson to wedge painful "Guess Who’s Going to jail tonight" vocals on Jail PT2 about self-harm with nihilistic lines like "I’m feeling I’m a goner."

There is something morbidly compelling about the tenacity of this project: "Heaven and Hell" plods along for two-and-a-half minutes on two chords and has a hook that goes, "No more promos" until it almost grows mesmerizing. "Praise God" sounds an awful lot like self-laceration ("look at you, dumb stoner little boy") with West breaking his voice while screaming. On "Hurricane," he offers this: "I choose not to be a slave. Dropped the wave runners now we run the wave." The discomfort level might be high enough to inspire rubbernecking from people who wouldn’t otherwise care about a new West record.

But Donda is interesting the same way a friend getting a dramatic bad haircut is interesting: Once the shock wears off, you still have to look them in the eye and level with them. The album is a failure, and not even a noble one. West insists on calling the album "gospel," and with the "Marilyn Manson" narration, the shout-out to god on "Jesus Lord," and a flat drawl that curls into awkward Layne Staley or Scott Weiland impersonations, it’s clear his approach to making a "gospel album" is even more dated than Lil Wayne’s, grounded in ideas and sounds that are now two decades old.

There are fleeting moments, here and there. On single "DONDA Chant" he manages one of the album’s more memorable lines, repeating "DONDA". When he hits on a nice guitar tone or melody or lyric, the songs are so simple that they assume a semi-meditative quality. The title track is the best song here, with a nostalgic breakbeat and West softly singing about manic depression: "and the power, and the glory" It’s a simple but effective tone poem.

And sometimes the songs are so uncomfortably direct it feels wrong to be evaluating them at all: How do you judge the value of "Junya Watanabe"' chorus “Junya Watanabe on my wri" It might be a confessional, but again Kanye West undercuts himself: If he is committed to this direction, and the album’s flaws are just the result of his limited voice and guitar skills, why include "Jail," a song that’s a riff on "Mary, Mary Quite Contrary"? Moments like this only reinforce the impression that the whole project is one long failed joke, a comedian bombing onstage trying to will it into performance art. So again: is he serious? Either way, Donda is a remarkable flop, and there is a certain amazement whenever something this self-indulgent and messy gets released on a major label.

Single life ain't SO BAD