For a nine-year period between 2004 and 2013, Kanye West was a visionary musical force, who amassed a catalog unrivaled by any of his peers. At the peak of his powers, West was one of the most creative, provocative, and influential artists to ever exist, whose records changed the sound of hip-hop.
Now, he’s just a Nazi.
On Thursday, December 1st, West joined alt-right conspiracy theorist Alex Jones on his InfoWars talk show. Over the course of a two-hour appearance, West proudly declared himself a Nazi, questioned the existence of the Holocaust, and praised Adolf Hitler for doing “good things.” He railed against “Zionists” as “evil,” and even pulled out a net and bottle of Yoo-hoo chocolate milk, which he claimed was longtime Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, in an apparent attempt at prop comedy. At times, West’s remarks were so outlandish that even Jones, a man himself in financial ruin for defamatory comments made about the Sandy Hook mass shooting, appeared taken aback. All the while, Nick Fuentes, the Neo-Nazi who recently infiltrated West’s inner circle and accompanied him to the interview, squealed with glee.
Once considered one of the world’s greatest musicians, Kanye West has eagerly embraced a new role: the spokesperson for anti-semites past and present. Whether through interviews with personalities like Jones, dinner with former president Donald Trump, or via posts to an audience of 32 million followers on Twitter, West is mainstreaming dark, repugnant, and downright evil views. (Shortly after I wrote this, West tweeted an image of a swastika inside of the Star of David. His account was subsequently suspended.)
There will be no redemption story. West, the musical artist, is over. His career has imploded and the debris is radioactive. His radio airplay will continue to dwindle. No respectable record label or concert promoter will associate themselves with him. The days of headlining Coachella, hosting listening parties at Madison Square Garden, or having music critics anticipating his every move with bated breath are gone.
As part of Consequence’s 15th anniversary retrospective earlier this year, Wren Graves explored the difficulty of separating great art created by terrible individuals. You should read the piece in full, but to summarize: There is no clean answer, as music means different things to different people. A few houses down from mine, a pre-teen girl regularly spends her afternoons on the porch dancing and singing along to Michael Jackson songs. She has her own loud speaker and microphone, and even wears costumes, like the red jacket from “Beat It” and MJ’s sequined white glove.
I often wonder what her reaction will be once she’s old enough to learn about Jackson’s demons and how she’ll reckon with the music that brings her such joy. I can sympathize; for years I was willing to look past West’s own indiscretions because the music was just so damn good.
Kanye West has always been problematic, but many in the media (Consequence included) chalked it up as a byproduct of his unfiltered creativity. Perhaps West himself said it best on his 2016 track, “Feedback,” when he rapped, “Name one genius that ain’t crazy.”
In the early years, it was easy to explain away West’s behavior: George Bush really didn’t care about Black people, the VMAs really did snub Beyoncé in favor of Taylor Swift, and his disastrous 2008 performance at Bonnaroo was a consequence of him being a perfectionist.
As his behavior worsened, his music provided a convenient cover. In 2010, West put out a modern masterpiece with My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy, where he openly addressed his own self-doubt and insecurities. Follow-ups like Yeezus and The Life of Pablo were equally raw and honest, and blunted criticism of his infractions. He was the epitome of a troubled genius.
But there came a point, around 2016 or so, where West’s behavior reached the point of no return. His obsession with Taylor Swift reached disturbing levels when he bragged about having sex with the singer on the song “Famous,” and then released a music video featuring nude sculptures of Swift and other celebrities laying next to him in a bed. A few months later, West met with then president-elect Donald Trump at Trump Tower.
In 2018, West went on TMZ and claimed that “slavery was a choice.” He also visited Trump at the White House and wore a MAGA hat on Saturday Night Live.
In 2020, he launched a presidential run, and during his lone campaign rally, he broke Kim Kardashian’s trust by speaking about her decision to almost get an abortion, and claimed that Harriet Tubman “never actually freed” the slaves.
Any of these incidents justified moving on from West. And yet because of the hope that West might one day rediscover his genius and release another masterpiece, or because everyone slows down to look at a car crash, we continued to platform him. It was a mistake.
There’s no denying that mental health is a factor in West’s spectacular downfall. He himself has long been open about his struggles, going as far as to adorn the cover of his 2018 album ye with the phrase, “I hate being bi-polar, it’s awesome.”
This is not to excuse any of his behavior. Millions of people suffer from severe mental health issues and bi-polar episodes, and they don’t engage in such bigoted and inflammatory behavior as exhibited by West. “Those trying to sanitize Kanye’s bigoted behavior by solely ascribing it to mental illness do nothing but further stigmatize the millions of adults who deal with these issues,” Jonathan Greenblatt, CEO of the Anti-Defamation League, said in a recent statement. “When someone with more social media followers than there are Jews in the world uses his platform to attack an entire group of people based on their religious and ethnic identity, that cannot be dismissed as simply a mental health issue, it is antisemitism.” (To that point, West’s antisemitic views actually pre-date many of his publicized personal issues.)
But West’s mental health is a factor in what’s to come. In recent years, the artist has proudly flaunted the fact that he no longer takes medication, and has seemingly cut off family, friends, and colleagues who previously attempted to intervene.
What matters at this point is whether West will ever be able to save himself from himself. Yesterday may have been the lowest of lows, but West appears content on digging even deeper — regardless of the collateral damage. For the sake of himself and his four children, I hope he finds some light before total darkness sets in.