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13 days ago, VSB allowed a quasi-hipster and anti-Black feckless idiot space here to write a piece where he questioned whether Kanye West sucked at music now. Included in this self-important and insufferable motherfucker’s hackneyed screed was an imbecilic comparison of 2016 Kanye West to 1993 Tim Hardaway — a connection only a truly analog nigga wanting everyone to believe he’s actually digital would make — and sentences like “Or any other abstract entity even tangentially responsible for exposing me to that cascade of half-assed auditory fuckshit.” Which was a clever line the same way a black squirrel is a clever rodent.
VSB allowed this literary ass-juice wrangler an opportunity to share his thoughts because, well, being a more progressive space means you become an equal opportunity employer too. Which means, if a person on the Kim Jong-un end of the spectrum has an idea, we can’t exactly say “No.” Or “Where are your clothes?” Or “Why does your face look like that?”
Of course, this feckless idiot was me. And the piece suggesting that the single most important person in music today might not be any good at making it was a response to “Facts” — an unquestionably terrible song. But writing this was the equivalent of saying “You know, maybe the Cavs should cut Kyrie Irving” after he missed three consecutive shots.
Extending the analogy, “No More Parties in L.A.” — which isn’t just the best song I’ve heard this year, but the best song I’ve heard in the last calendar year — is Kyrie hearing me say that and then doing this the next time down court:
Coupled with last week’s release of “Real Friends” — a good, not great, but legitimately competent, enjoyable, and professional rap song — “No More Parties in L.A” is proof that Kanye West, in fact, does not suck at music now. And that anyone who dared write something like that needs to never write something for anyone again.
(Related, happy MLK Day!)