Album Reviews

Mere months after his patience-testing yet rewarding opus Donda, Kanye West is back with its lazily titled sequel, Donda 2. Don’t expect to find it on streaming platforms or in record stores, however. The artist now legally known as Ye instead independently released it exclusively on the $200 Stem Player, a proprietary, Yeezy Tech- and Kano-developed device that allows users tactile interaction with his last three albums (more about that later). Most of Donda 2’s media coverage centers around the Stem Player situation, how everyone thinks Kanye is “crazy” to so highly value his art by making everyone pay $200 for it. Yet, Donda 2 itself doesn’t cost $200; it’s a free download accessible only via the $200 Stem Player, meaning he doesn’t technically have to pay anyone royalties or sample clearances. Kanye would tell you he’s winning, except it’s his own game designed to eliminate any threat of competition. (Either way, Billboard ruled the album ineligible to chart. Kanye’s decision to keep Donda 2 off streaming is immensely respectable, though I wish he also put out a more convenient $20 CD or tape.)

What many gloss over, though, is that Donda 2 is a rushed, clearly unfinished, and emotionally difficult legal obligation of a record. See, Kanye held a disastrous Miami listening event/concert on February 22 (2.22.22) and promised a Stem Player-exclusive album release that same day, but as usual, he was late. The next day, he released four tracks under the Donda 2 title, because someone must’ve reminded him that selling all those Stem Players and releasing nothing could easily get him sued (it’s happened before). The day after that, he added another twelve songs, but within hours deleted one of those additions. The device suits Kanye’s work method—he can force out updates as he pleases, fulfilling The Life Of Pablo’s “living breathing changing creative expression” concept more directly than ever before. The difference is that Pablo’s initial release had real songs, substantive lyrics, and full-sounding production, while Donda 2 has mumble verses and scraps of songs that only hint at their full potential. In the month since its initial full release, he’s made mostly negligible tweaks instead of the major overhaul it desperately needs. Further, the album comes amidst an almost unrelenting Instagram drama: publicized child custody issues with ex-wife Kim Kardashian, shots towards Kardashian’s new boyfriend Pete Davidson, needlessly vicious attacks at Kid Cudi and Billie Eilish (among many others), borderline stalker-like posts about Kardashian, and derogatory comments aimed at Trevor Noah, which finally got Kanye a 24-hour account suspension. (He’ll occasionally post more digestible content, such as studio photos with Beach House or outfits from his upcoming Balenciaga/Yeezy/Gap collaboration.)

Executive produced by Future, Donda 2 is a guest-reliant mess. While it still features glimpses of Kanye’s genius construction, he’s barely here, and when he is, he’s a burdening presence; I can’t imagine these songs being played at “a funeral, childbirth, graduation, [or] a wedding.” “Too Easy” sounds genuinely futuristic, with hectic 808s and darkly kaleidoscopic synths providing a foundation for Ye’s emotive vocoder, except he doesn’t have enough actual verses. “Sci Fi” has absolutely stunning, electronically processed string samples, yet wastes the first minute and a half by sampling Kardashian’s SNL monologue (of course leaving out the divorce quote) and including an overly long Sean Leon feature. When Kanye enters, he basically has an emotional breakdown right in front of you, to the point where he spills all the grimy details, can’t function, and therefore leaves the record unfinished. It’s like sitting with your stoned friend who’s having difficulty accepting the failure of their relationship; you can’t really do anything to help, but you feel obligated to sit there for emotional support. Yet Kanye toes the line between being vulnerable and inflicting his pain on his audience, which I critically, morally, and personally find very uncomfortable.

Elsewhere on the album, Kanye delivers often-repetitive napkin scribblings of lyrics about child custody issues (“True Love”), his short-lived relationship with actor Julia Fox (“Flowers”), and how he stopped buying Louis Vuitton bags after Virgil Abloh’s death (“Louie Bags”). He also disses UMG chairman Lucian Grainge (“Selfish”), claims his status as the “only billionaire you know that’s sleeping on a couch” (“First Time In A Long Time”), and over said custody issues again threatens Kim Kardashian (“Security”). Some of it’s quite confusing; on “Happy,” he follows a passable Future verse with lines about being unhappy, wishing/demanding to take Virgil’s job at LV, and… wanting to buy Uber? It’s incomprehensibly mumbled and disjointed, as is Ye’s verse on the since-deleted, Talking Heads-sampling “Keep It Burning.” (If Donda 2 is Kanye’s nadir as Never Let Me Down was David Bowie’s, then “Keep It Burning” is his “Too Dizzy.”) “Get Lost” is an uneventful a cappella vocoder exercise, “Broken Road” has half-baked lyrics comparing Kanye’s difficult family situation to a homeless person’s lack of freedom, and Travis Scott and Future far outshine his JESUS IS KING-esque complaints about Satan splitting his family on “Pablo.” The record’s most conventionally “finished” songs are “City Of Gods” (featuring Fivio Foreign and Alicia Keys) and “Eazy” (The Game’s recent single, which features Ye’s infamous “God saved me from that crash/Just so I could beat Pete Davidson’s ass” line), but those were originally built primarily for Fivio and The Game, not Kanye. Other artists would be universally clowned for some of these lyrics, yet Kanye still has fans defending his every last petty and/or nonsensical utterance.

Additionally, Donda 2 lacks Kanye’s typical expert curation of sounds and guests. Sonically, it can’t tell if it wants to be a relatively straightforward pop rap album with trap and drill beats, or an icy, industrial epic for a dystopian future where 2001: A Space Odyssey looks like realistic fiction and Donda 2 is the last gasp of real human emotion as we currently know it. “Security”’s distorted synths sound appropriately menacing, the minimalist synthetic strings and piano on “Lord Lift Me Up” are bleak, and “First Time In A Long Time”’s synth bass and ghostly organ complement Kanye’s melancholic vocals. On the other hand, “We Did It Kid” has obnoxious, celebratory horns over an average trap beat, the piano- and 808-based instrumental on “Selfish” sounds outdated by a decade, and “Louie Bags”’ drums and synthscapes don’t match very well. As far as the featured guests, Travis Scott and Future sound charismatic on “Pablo,” though Jack Harlow’s “Louie Bags” verse is unnecessary, Vory’s yearning vocals fail to carry “Lord Lift Me Up”’s beautiful but exhaustingly static two minutes, XXXTentacion’s posthumously featured “True Love” and “Selfish” hooks conjure indifference, and no one in 2022 asked for Soulja Boy’s feature on “First Time In A Long Time.”

Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe Donda 2 is a brilliantly forward-thinking work, ushering in a new era of repetitive songs, unfinished art, and celebrities whose creations publicize their every last personal struggle. It breaks the fourth wall between artist and audience, and consequently seems like a natural conclusion to the social media era’s increasingly interactive nature. But as a piece of music, Donda 2 is rough, and as a Kanye fan, I find it difficult to listen to. Beneath the mumbled nonsense, haphazard curation, and public bickering is the sound of a man who’s lonely and desperately crying for help, and it makes you wonder if you should even be listening to it. Because of all this, it’s impossible to assign Donda 2 a numerical rating of any substance; the 7/10 music score is really an arbitrary placeholder to represent the few brilliant moments within an immensely uncomfortable listening experience. Right now, I’d much rather see Kanye take a break for his own well-being than see or hear more new content.

The Stem Player

The only way to officially hear Donda 2 is on the Yeezy Tech/Kano Stem Player, first released during last year’s Donda rollout. It divides songs into four stems (essentially consolidated, mixed multitracks) of vocals, drums, bass, and samples/other instruments; available as official, properly split 44.1kHz/16bit stem downloads are JESUS IS KING, Donda (Deluxe), and Donda 2, though an AI algorithm automatically splits other tracks into stems. (The device supports MP3, AAC, and the four major lossless PCM formats.) Stems are adjustable via four touch-sensitive light sliders, users can save files of their remixes, and effects include real-time reversing, looping, and pitch-shifting. The soft, flesh-colored Stem Player fits into the palm of a hand, and its built-in 97dB speaker, 3.5mm output, USB-C power and data port, and Bluetooth capability add to its ease of use. However, the 8GB storage feels insufficient for a new $200 item; it can’t even fit the three available Kanye albums all at once.

The idea behind the Stem Player is that users can interact with music rather than passively listen to it. In reality, it doesn’t exactly fulfill that mission. For the average listener, it’s an expensive novelty item that’s inconvenient for normal listening (even “Sci Fi” collaborator Sean Leon resorted to pirating Donda 2 on his phone), and for music producers, it doesn’t yet have enough features to make it very useful (that said, I’ve seen people use it as a controller with FL Studio, and someone apparently did an entire DJ set with just their Stem Player). The intuitive touch sensitive sliders/faders light up nicely, though they’re quite picky about the angle of your fingers. Still, the effects can be fun, especially for those who fancy themselves the next DJ Screw or who think they can effortlessly make cool, Dean Bluntian hypnagogic shit in the wee hours of the morning (hint: the Stem Player won’t help you sound like DJ Screw, and your late night Dean Bluntian creations aren’t as great as you initially thought they were).

Unfortunately, the actual sound quality seems like an afterthought. While the Stem Player’s small speaker wouldn’t suggest excellence, in separation and spatiality my iPhone 11 speaker pounces all over it, and tuned 808 kicks really suffer here. The 3.5mm output also sounds pretty weak and the USB-C port doesn’t seem to provide bitstream output, but Donda 2 isn’t a great recording or mix anyway, and appears unmastered. The official stem splits are decent and mostly logical, though the AI splits vary. Ecco2k’s “Security” and Yung Lean’s “Acid At 7/11’ were rather tidy and Yoko Ono’s “Don’t Worry Kyoko” turned out much better than expected, though David Bowie’s “Slow Burn” and The 1975’s “The Birthday Party” didn’t fare so well. John Coltrane’s “Acknowledgement” was the worst split I heard, as the algorithm split it into only two, very confusing stems (but remember, the algorithm splits are based on generalized frequency bands). I haven’t tried uploading custom stems, though I’m sure an update will make that available if it isn’t already. The Kano team is still designing new features for future updates of the conceptually interesting Stem Player, but I can’t say it’s currently worth the price for anyone who isn’t a full-on Kanye obsessive.

(Malachi Lui is an AnalogPlanet contributing editor, music obsessive, avid record collector, and art enthusiast. Follow him on Twitter and Instagram.)