I think it’s fair game to say that, throughout the rapid descent of Kanye to Yeezy, from sliding up with Twista & Foxx on Slow Jamz as the sweet, little, relateable College Dropout, the, alleged, West has completely lost his 03’OG mind.
From the early 2000’s through to present day, there has been a clear and obscene change in the once-humbling figure known as ‘Kanye West’. Once rhyming about sharing a bed with brothers and sisters and gaily peeing in it, now comparing his musical feats to that of the innovational exploits seen by the late Nikola Tesla. There was a time when we listened to Kanye and wished, with the underdog, for his rightful success, but as fast as it came, the fame-fed-madness followed rapid suit, and soon-enough, many of those same fans would be praying for his disastrous demise.
Over the years he’s beaten minors, flipped his lid with renowned hip-hop radio presenters, cried with New Zealanders, laid down, speechless, with Jonathan Woss, spouted unrelenting tides of undecipherable metaphorical comparisons and digressive obscenities alongside becoming a strange, lost-dog, third wheel in the Jay-Z-Beyoncé love triangle. Not to mention getting all relationshipped-up with one of the most batshit annoying net-sluts known to life on anything.
“I originally found Yay-excuse me… Yeezy…” comments Shawn Carter (Jay Z), looking somewhat exhausted, “back in 98′. He was kicking around the back of our studio with some young kids. He’d been there a few hours and was looking pretty wild. He had the kids all tied up and was rocking a mic he’d boosted from our dumpster. At first I thought he was just some homeless dude jumping kids for pocket-money, but when we took him in, we realised he was just a sad lost dog, looking for a place to call home.”
By 2001, Kanye had formed a strong bond with Jay-Z and was immersed in writing his debut album, The College Dropout. Unbeknownst to anyone at the time, the man that so many knew to be ‘Kanye West’, was in fact two different entities combined; two opposing cardinal points, locked in a heavyweight battle that had been raging for twenty four years.
Following the weeping with Zane Lowe, a few weeks back (26/02/2015), the man thought to be West, at precisely 10:37am, Monday 2nd of March, approached the BBC’s Great Portland Street reception demanding audience with three of the Broadcasting agencies’ biggest head-honchos; Helen Boaden, Danny Cohen & James Harding, the directors in charge of all things television, radio and news. Though, when his invitation was accepted without question, by receptionist, twenty-three-year-old Laura Day, his response left jaws hanging throughout the entire executive body. “I had fucking Yeezus banging his fists on our desk, demanding he see all of these big names that I can’t even contact.” says Laura, “He was making such a scene! People were stopping in the revolving doors just to have a look. I mean it’s Kanye fucking West for fuck’s sake! Everyone knows who he is! So I just said ‘Yes! Of course’ and started penning him in.” She pauses; “…and that’s when shit got really fucking mental…”
Laura takes a moment to brush a few strands of hair from her eyes before puffing up to do her best ‘Yeezy’ impression, which was actually frighteningly spot-on for a young woman of five foot and three inches; “‘You don’t even know who I am do you?’ he goes. And I just smiled because, y’know? That’s the sort of stuff that Yeezus says all the time, these days. I just thought he was being a massive, mad cunt like he is on TV. But then he asked me what his name was…” She looks me right in the eyes and I felt a shameful semi emerge as she puffed up her beautiful face for yet another, flawless, Yeezy impression; “‘What’s my name?’ he said. And he kept on saying it, over and over again! It was really embarrassing and all I could think about was the time he said that Coldplay would be bigger than the Beatles, I was really scared: he’s a pretty crazy guy! So I just sort of laughed it off, smiled, showed him a bit of cleavage and said, ‘You’re Kanye West’. Simple right?…”
The man in question was reported to then “pause for a prolonged period of time”, with a “sort of malicious” smile on his face, “like it was all one big joke”. Audio sourced from CCTV footage of the event, coupled with multiple eye-witness accounts, confirmed that the gentleman, presumed to be Kanye Omari West, proceeded in climbing onto the reception desk and citing a clear and concise sentence of just three words; three words that would change the face of the music industry as we know it, whilst simultaneously re-configuring everything we’ve ever known about the self-proclaimed, god-like figure that is ‘Kanye West’. Laura continues; “He just looked around the room, rolling his eyes and laughing. Then he just gets right up on the desk! Hops right up there, like some black, gymnast rabbit, or some shit – obviously everyone’s fucking frozen now! He looked at me quickly and quietly said ‘Naah, you got this shit all wrong girl…’, I was quite turned on by that, and then he turns to the entire room and says; ‘I’m Kanye East.'”.
The man was quickly swarmed by a mob of budding journalists, a barrage of selfies was already surging across the entrance hall and amidst the madness, a small force of security soon swamped East and pulled him to the seclusion of a quiet, empty office.
“The whole building went on lock-down” said a large man, who had taken eighty six selfies, in total, during the ordeal; “They were trying to keep the story in the building. No one was getting in, or out.” In an attempt to smother the potentially global story and retain BBC exclusive coverage, every door went down, shutters were closed, broadcast completely ceased and internet access, via any means, was blocked. The stunned reception audience was rounded up within ten minutes of East/West’s entry and promptly isolated. Multiple Tweets and photos had already gone live on various social sites but all were removed in just as hasty a time. Within all of a few minutes, the BBC had gone black-out to the world and all the while, the proclaimed ‘Kanye East’, was sat face-to-face with the BBC’s head of news and current affairs, Mr. James Harding. A spilling of every bean from one of the biggest cans to hit the musical industry since my Dad got dumped by Lauryn Hill at the Summer Ball was about to ensue.
Full details are, at present, being withheld by the BBC, along with the alleged ‘Kanye East’ character, until a full release of the interview is aired later in the year – sources confirm that the interview is scheduled for release some time in June – but an official statement has been released by the British Broadcasting Company citing a general overview of the circumstances explained by East/West in the interview.
On Monday, March 2nd, 2015, at precisely 10:37 am, we were approached by American Rapper, entrepreneur and fashion designer, Kanye West, in a aggressive demand for justice. The man, that we have known, throughout a twelve year career, to be ‘Kanye West’, is an imposter. We are currently in cooperation with ‘the real Kanye West’ to reveal an industry scandal of proportions unimaginable. We have been reliably informed, with corresponding legal evidence, provided by ‘the real Kanye West’, of multiple accounts of plagiarism, blackmail, imposition, forgery and financial manipulation/deception, amongst many others, employed, almost in their entirety, by the public figure that we have known to be ‘Kanye West’.
Our own internal sources, at the BBC, have shed further light on the situation. I’ll explain: Go way back to the early 80’s, imagine a four-piece group made up of four young brothers, ‘The Kanyedinal Points’; adorable and unsuccessful, fronted by the legendary Kanye West, completed by brothers Kanye North, Kanye South and of course, Kanye East. South lacked in any real musical talent but could really shake a leg and North played an okay bass, but the real money makers were West & East. As far as we know, the band were small time, local news, that is until West began receiving commendable credit for his ever-improving and always-impressive lyrical abilities. East was never far behind, but as somewhat of “a trouble-maker”, was always marginally overshadowed by his younger, “cool-headed” brother. As the years went by, the band slowly dissipated as each brother eventually started to follow separate career paths. At some point in the mid-nineties, North, sadly passed away and in the following year, things got out of hand between the two remaining musical brothers: West & East.
Whilst West wanted to settle down and put music behind him, following a masters degree in sociology, East was hungry to reignite the Kanyedinals’ flame, with only major, industry success in sight. We believe there was a dispute between the two, though it was eventually agreed that East & West would write some new material together; East would take to the stage, if it came, and West would stay anonymous, putting pen to paper and reaping in some agreed percentage of the reward. However, East’s temperament soon lead to the two splitting and whilst West turned back to focus his attention on his career, East went straight to the streets to try and hustle a spot in the limelight. A few months down the line: enter Jay-Z.
We are told that East, on meeting Jay-Z, and seeing the opportunity in front of him, in true Yeezy style, decided to play off his surname, ‘East’, and pose as his “known sweetheart and not a complete dickhead” brother, introducing himself as Kanye ‘West’, instead. An easy play when you consider the identical nature of the Kanyedinal Quadruplets.
With Jay-Z’s confidence behind him, East seized the opportunity to make, brief, amends with West. West, seeing Jay-Z’s genuine enthusiasm for the work, that he had largely written himself, albeit performed by his brother, begrudgingly inclined and proceeded in collaborating with East, writing the entire College Drop Out album over the course of a four-day weekend in Disney Land, Florida. Whilst East paraded the theme-park, practising his rapping abilities by aggressively dominating park guests as they queued for rides, West toiled away in the hotel bedroom, manufacturing an album, appropriately titled for his college-drop-out brother, that would later win the hearts of both dedicated and non hip-hop fans alike, spreading across the globe like a sexually infectious disease that no one ever intended to treat.
It should be noted that throughout this entire period, East was consistently, and some-what admirably, without fault, flawlessly posing as West. And that East, also, actively assured West play along with the lie so as to avoid embarrassment on both parts.
For a time, family life was the same: East was a “dominating dick” and West tried to keep things easy, and during The College Dropout reign of success, East did truly embody the spirit and persona of his “sound-as-a-dollar” and “laid-back” brother, for his career front, further empowering his media presence and rapidly swelling fan-base. West even stood in for East, on multiple occasions; for concerts, television appearances and even award shows and all the while, the world was none the wiser. The character known as ‘Kanye West’, whether he was East or West, was a great guy with a great sound that everyone wanted to hear.
However, despite the success of the ‘Kanye West’ entity, it was soon only East that was reaping the rewards of fame. And with considerably less financial weight over his brother, West soon found himself in an unimaginable predicament: West wasn’t just posing for the cameras, he was posing as his “100% evil-twin-brother” in every conceivable circumstance; for friends, for family and for strangers, for job applications and for shopping trips, even his first Bebo account was made in the name of ‘Kanye East’. The lie had gone global, and with it: West’s identity. East had become West and West had become East. And within six months of The College Dropout‘s 2003 release, all record of The Kanyedinal Points, and East’s three twin brothers, including the mastermind behind the entire album, West, had been wiped.
Twelve years down the line, even if you were to Dark-Web your balls off, you will not surface a single whiff of any blood-related quadruplets lined to the man known as ‘Kanye Omari West’. Especially none that were once a formed junior pop/soul band called The Kanyedinal Points and, even more so, one’s who’s surnames, coincidentally, circumnavigate a compass.
The one ray of light that we can seize from this power-house, gargantuan scandal of long-reigning global deception, lies in a monstrous irony. East, despite stealing his “well safe” brother’s persona & identity, to alleviate the pains that being such “a massive cunt” would bring to an adored career in mega-stardom, found that resisting the urge to actually be an absolute cunt was all too difficult, in the face of such grandular über-fame. In fact, if you observe the scowling character today, it is easy to see that he has only retained a single shred of his brother’s stolen ghost: a name.
In every sense, the Kanye that has consumed preposterous amounts of media attention, industry glory and intellectual investment, is hands-down and inarguably nothing more than he ever was: Kanye East, the most jaded, confused, lost and angry little dog to have ever sadly slopped along this precious rock that we call home.
It’s sad to think that something birthed on good intentions could spiral so wildly out of control. That fame, like it has done to so many young and aspiring talents (Cyrus, Lohan, Bieber, the Olsens, Culkin, Spears etc.), is an all consuming beast with razored paparazzi teeth, a belly of material wealth and torn carcase – an open window distorted and manipulated by a thousand personal opinions that deliver countless tales, lies and insight into never-private lives. Lives of individuals just as human as the rest of us. Insecurities revealed, tempers antagonised, bodies shared, relationships whispered and criticism an ever-present demon, screaming under the safety of your bed-covers. Alongside the luxury lifestyle, cheers of praise in the streets, tides of adoring fans and liaising with faces most only ever see smiling on TV, is a potentially crushing weight of public presence and expectancy. When I look at the man that is Kanye “Yeezus” West, I see a man expressively unhappy, and not for lack of successes, but for a void he just can’t seem to fill; an emptiness that comes with being such an idol, such a source of hate and ridicule, a person grown in less-fortunate circumstance, now breathing the life of dreams had by the very-same, bed-sharing child, someone perhaps not academically fantastic, yet plunged into a position charged with making high-stake decisions, enforced with a sense of faux-intelligence yet maybe ever-self-doubting and afraid, required to be a hard-shelled “gangster” and never allowed to cry on television. Rules set out half by himself, and what he thinks that the world expects of him, and half set out by the world, and what it thinks and continually expects of him.
Big ups to Kanye West, the OG that gave us The College Drop Out.