While I’m on a hip-hop binge, Sasha Frere-Jones, for the New Yorker:
West complains about massages and cars, culminating with a command that makes me smile every time I hear it: “Hurry up with my damn croissants!” The line, like his tweets, is something that only West could deliver with conviction.
While I’d pick either “Blood on the Leaves” or “Send It Up” as the standout track from Yeezus, I completely agree on Frere-Jones’ premise: it’s one hell of a great album. The reason Kanye West can get away with lyrics like “I am a god” while Jay-Z struggles with “I’m the modern day Pablo Picasso” is because West sounds like he’s desperate to prove it. Jay sounds like he’s just reminding you. I don’t buy it.