You’re considered a real tastemaker. How do you decide what’s fresh and what’s not?
There’s a team of us. I’m really surrounded by a lot of people who can dress, who are tastemakers in Chicago. And if you see me around somebody who can’t dress, then basically we’re just talking about him the whole way there.
Are you going to stores and looking for things, or do you just take whatever people are giving you?
No, I like to shop.
Where do you go in Chicago?
I go to Bloomingdale’s, Gucci. In New York, Atrium, Saks Fifth Avenue. I go everywhere.
Where do you go to get your kicks? Where did you get your cell phone? Where do you get little stuff like that?Well, you know I definitely have to have a Motorola phone. You know I have to have—
Because you’re on the Boost Mobile commercial?
[Laughs.] No… I have to have the hottest phone out. I have the black one; I think it’s called a Razor.
What about sneakers?
I get boxes of them from Adidas now because I really like the vintage Rod Lavers they just came out with. So I tell them, “Send me every pair in size 12 that are on the continent.”
What about your clothing line? Can you talk about that?
It’s called Pastelle. We’re working on designs for it right now. We want to open up a store in the spring. We’re looking in New York and L.A. There will be at least one of the two, if not both of them.
What can you compare the line to?
They’re really conversational pieces. I don’t want to go towards that and have people trying to predict what I’m about to do. Because so many clothing lines have already capitalized on others’ styles.
Are you trying to change up your look?
I think I dress a little bit more easygoing than I have before. I really wanted to make a statement and set myself apart from people. And now, with the more experience I have shopping, the more opportunities I get traveling around the world, I’ve been able to pick out the best of the best of the best. It takes time to really build up a wardrobe like mine and be one of the best-dressed people on the planet. Like right now, I’ve got a red suede Yves Saint Laurent leather bag and matching carry-on bag. That’s a one of one. I took it as a birthday gift from them.
So who is involved in designing for Pastelle?
We’re going to have multiple designers do stuff under the brand. Adidas, NIGO® [from A Bathing Ape], Jonas [Bevacqua] from LRG. They’ll come up with stuff, design stuff. I think that was my first love even before I truly wanted to be a rapper. I really thought I was going to be a designer. Like, back in fourth grade, I used to design clothes.
Did you just cherry pick your favorite people to do the line? And were they open as soon as you reached out?
All but NIGO®.
It’s surprising that he’d get involved.
Well, I wouldn’t word it like that. But there will be some exclusive pieces. He’s not doing the whole line. But you know how he did sunglasses with Pharrell? We just want to have it open, to have different celebrity designers come in and design under the brand.
In an interview a couple of years ago, you said you didn’t like people looking to you as a fashion icon. Do you still feel that way?
It was probably just a misquote in the interview. That’s what journalists do professionally, other than actually typing: misquoting. When they go to school, the teachers say, “Make sure you misquote and paraphrase the artist that speaks in spectrums, that talks in colors. The only way that you can make this fit on the page is if you turn what he says into black and white. So take specific lines out of his sentence so that it only means exactly what you want it to say!” My thing is, fuck your 4,000 words. Make my shit 4,050 words and quote it and quote it right. It happens even with the nicest journalists, even with the people that have no malicious intent. That’s one of the reasons I rap in the first place. I wanted to get my point across exactly the way I wanted to say it. I spent so much time articulating my sentences, especially when I did those quotes. If I had all of my quotes, I could make a book.
You have a strange love/hate relationship with the press. Do you think even though you say you’ve been misquoted, they’ve still helped you by praising you and loving The College Dropout?
They were real after the fact with The Dropout. I just had to mature. I’m an artist. I was a starving artist. I was someone nobody believed in. This is your pull quote right here: “Success is a humbling experience because now I don’t have to tell anybody how good I am. Everybody else can see it.”
That makes you feel humble, or just makes you look humble?
Well, I think I have a lot of internal conflicts with that because it’s the nature of a Gemini to try to make people happy. So I guess that’s where I get my split personalities from. What we do is, if we have a problem, we will evaluate the response—if we bring up something, half the people will respond to it before we say something. We really try to think before we talk, and if it feels like a lull, it will be like, “Well, why you not talking?” when, really, I’m trying to figure this all out in my head. And so people say, “Why you acting funny? Why you acting like that?” So I have a complex that I’m trying to fight to try to make people happy. Just today on the train, this guy was talking to me—now, mind you, people come up to me all the time trying to ask for advice on how to make it, so I will remember them. He said, “What are you doing down here?” And I said I have a show. He said, “Yo, dog, keep doing your thing.” And I said, “Fo’ sho’, man. I’mma try.” And then he told me, “Don’t say try, don’t say try.” And I said, “Wait a second, dog—I do this. This is what I do. I say I’ll try to make you feel comfortable.” Just so people will walk away saying, “Damn, Kanye is a really nice guy.” For some reason, whenever I talk directly, it just makes people feel so uncomfortable. The thing is, if you want the realest me, then it’s gonna be like, [excitedly] “Yeah, I did that,” and shouting all the time and celebrating all the time because it’s so good. Every day is my birthday. What do you expect? It’s like, walk a day in my shoes and try to not spare anybody. What do you want from me? So now what I do is put up what I always talked about: the false modesty. I’m becoming so fake. I’m becoming exactly what I tried to fight against.
“Success is a humbling experience because now I don’t have to tell anybody how good I am. Everybody else can see it.”
That’s a trap of success.
Last night, somebody came out to the studio. It was someone I didn’t know who was coming out to the studio. I do know him, but not too well, though—
Who was it?
Come on now… But then they said he’s at the front desk. And I’m telling you, I’m so stressed out—I got a couple days to finish my album, I’m doing an intro for the “Diamonds” video, and I was in total work mode. I don’t have time to say “what’s up?” It’s a closed session. But it’s like if they word it in some way that I was like, “Yo, you can’t come in right now,” then I’m an asshole. Mind you, you weren’t invited or nothing.
Right. But if people want to be around you, then that’s what it’s like.
The thing is, I’m always in the wrong. Somebody looks at me and I’ll just be looking. “You can’t speak? I don’t know you. You didn’t ask me anything. You didn’t say anything to me. Am l just supposed to walk around the street?” On the other hand, should I be so cocky to think that everybody is looking at me? I’ve had times where I thought somebody was looking at me and I give them the head nod and people look away from me. Then it’s like, “What did I do that for?” It’s like you’re always trying to make up for your success, to overcompensate, to try to be extra nice.
You’ve said you’re a shy person. Do you think that’s because of how you grew up? Do you think you were telling people, “I’m the shit,” because you were overcompensating or just confident?
I definitely think that it’s overcompensation. I was the scaredest of all. Just scared of not being able to make it. Just imagine the walls that I’ve had to climb or the people I’ve had to stand in front of. You have to build something up. When I do my signature pose, it’s like a force field toward all of the naysayers and the haters. I just have that up. I’m going to make up a new theory: [the saying goes] If you come in a room and people think you’re stupid, open your mouth and remove all doubt. The flip side of that is, if you come in a room talking, you don’t allow anybody else to say anything about you.
You did a humble thing by letting Jay-Z come out during your set at Hot 97’s Summer Jam recently. And you look to Jay as a model for a sustained music career. But do you look at him as a businessman whose path you’d like to follow?
Yeah, I’d definitely say that.
“It takes time to really build up a wardrobe like mine and be one of the best-dressed people on the planet.”
Jay’s also a branding expert. Is that something you aspire to?
Well, I want to make my bear be the icon. I always pictured having my own skyscraper. And when you get to my office, there would be the Dropout Bear logo encrusted on the wall.
Have you ever looked into doing real estate?
I was doing real estate before I really got into the game. My mother always said real estate. But not skyscrapers or anything like that.
What are you driving?
A Mercedes-Benz CLS55. It’s really fun, but it’s definitely not like a John Legend-platinum, Common-almost-platinum, all these other triple-platinum artists type of car, know what I’m saying? It’s not downplayed like white person downplayed, like a Nissan Altima. It’s still niggerish… and you can say that Kanye allowed you to print that.
Let’s talk about something else. Can you give me a little “Day in the life of Kanye”? When you woke up this morning, what did you do?
I had sex. Then I ran outside, attempted to make a flight. We made the flight, and we cut the line because I got BSP.
What’s BSP?
Black Star Power. Then I got on the airplane, went to sleep. Got off the plane. [My publicist] Gabe told me that this was the last day for the Complex interview. Then I looked down at my Yves Saint Laurent bag and it’s suede and I saw a little glue coming off of it and I told Ivan I need Scotchgard.
There’s very personal subject matter on College Dropout songs like “Family Business” and “Spaceship.” Is the stuff as personal on Late Registration?
Yes, I think personal, but I’ll word it in ways so that every person can relate to it. I always wanted to rap in a way that I could be respected in a barbershop and on a mixtape level but also spit a rap to a straight, white, corporate dude and he would understand every word. I’m kind of like Jadakiss meets Will Smith.
People say that you get 25 years to write your first record and only one year to write your second. How do you keep it creative?
I have two words for the new album: Jon Brion.
Can you describe the series of events that led to you two getting together?
Just a whole bunch of me asking people and people not giving me the number. When I finally hooked up with Rick Rubin, who is basically like the Hollywood yellow pages, he helped me out.
Was Jon open to it right off the bat?
I talked to him on the phone and I came to him playing songs and he just started working and said, “Hey, let’s do this.”
That’s crazy. You’re really an unlikely pair.
He connected with the music and he has a lot of soul; he plays every instrument. We both want the same things out of the music: for people to feel it at the end of the day. All the technical shit aside, we just want people to feel it. And I wish I could word it to make me sound smarter, but it’s really that simple.
Was it difficult for you to give up the reins?
Well, yeah, we did it together. I guess if I was on a “Kanye’s not so bad” campaign, I could use that as an example. Just because you’re coming out winning three Grammys and you’re considered one of the No. 1 producers in the game doesn’t mean you can’t put your album in someone else’s hands because you respect his work so much.
How do you avoid repetition in writing rhymes? How do you keep it new?
I refuse to be boxed in. I’m always like, “Damn, I never heard that before.” Even at the risk of people not liking it. Seriously—think I am really capable of making an extension of The College Dropout, but the answer is, I wouldn’t.
Are you comfortable sacrificing that bigger success?
Dog, don’t you know that by now? I’m ill.
You’re driving us through L.A. with no driver or bodyguard—
Yeah. I’m rich and I’m famous, but I try not to be extra with it.
[Laughs.] Has the recession affected you?
Yeah, I try to avoid it overly affecting me. But some shit has happened, like Best Buy was supposed to [shoot and produce] the tour DVD and they pulled out of it. I definitely got hit with that, because not shooting it was not an option, so I had to pay for it.
Did you consider how a recession might affect the reception of the “Martin Louis King” video you made in Paris?
People tune into me for escapism. When you went to the Glow in the Dark Tour, you were literally transported to another planet. I know there’s anti-rich sentiment right now, with corporate people not using their jets and Obama saying heads of banks can’t make more than $500,000, but I really feel like that tape embodied me and what Louis Vuitton is about. I’d like to think I give optimism to people when I stunt. When I have a pink watch on or tight jeans on, people talk shit about me, but it wore all gray and black, who would be the one to wear all the bright colors? How depressing would it be if I was always depressed, or, should I say, the press? I’m here to entertain people and to be the one that does the crazy, bold stuff so they can live through me and get their mind off the recession and the war and whatever else is going on in the world.
Was there a goal for that video?
I didn’t have a particular goal while I was doing it. But after the fact, I was like, this video is the greatest example of my true personality. This is the five-year-old before he was jaded. Before everyone told him what and what not to do and how to stay cool and what you had to do to be a rapper and what you had to not do. This energy was very pure and very exciting. I wasn’t downing people, either. I wasn’t telling people to step your shit up. I was just saying, “Are you serious?” Like, I just did a shoe for Louis Vuitton that was actually in the show, and I got the entire hood watching me and waiting for them to come out. Oh, SWAGGER IS ON A HUNDRED GAZILLION!!! And I was so exploding inside that it would have been a shame for me not to just scream out loud in a hallway. But I didn’t have a hallway. I had a video camera and Vimeo.
You know that video and those pictures made the internet go apeshit, right?
It blew their fucking mind, didn’t it? I’m going to honestly say I don’t know exactly what it was. Was it—
Taz’s tights.
That’s what I was about to say! Was it Taz’s outfits? What does Taz wearing tights have to do with me? How does Taz—mind you, a dude who is straight—wearing tights make me gay this week? How am I gay this week?
You know, since then, people who know that I know you have asked two recurring questions: Is he on drugs? Is he gay?
[Laughs.] What do you tell them?
That I’ve never seen you do drugs, but I’ve definitely seen you go in, as far as chicks—
[Laughs very hard.] But, you know, that doesn’t prove anything [to them], right? Someone could just be like, “He’s just running in girls when he’s really thinking about fucking guys.” That’s, like, the devil’s advocate thing that they probably say. But drugs? How perfect is that? People think I’m on drugs! I didn’t even have to do drugs for people to think that I was on them. And what’s funny is that I feel like my outfits were very masculine and very hip-hop.
Why do you think there’s such a fixation on your sexuality?
I really think it’s because society tries to dictate the way a guy is supposed to dress and the way a guy is supposed to act, and I refuse to conform. A lot of these dudes would never be accused of being gay just because they all look exactly alike. If people could just realize the amount of mundaneness and followers that lack creativity… I think people’s mentality is like, only gay people are that creative. And it’s true there are a lot of gay people who are incredible creative minds, but there are straight people who are incredible creative minds—and there’s gay people who can’t dress or create at all, too. Closed-minded gay people probably say they dress “straight.”
What does the brand Kanye West mean?
Pop but Luxury. Edgy but Comfortable. I’m about clashing worlds that you think don’t belong together. This is our world, and everything belongs together. That’s the ill thing about our president. Our president is Black, but our president is white, too. And the original struggle of America is racism, and to have someone in office that represents both of those sides is what I think the world is about. Segregation and snobbery and elitism should be the wack words. That should be what people use to diss people.
Your fashion endeavors have been much more exclusive and expensive than your music. Does your brand translate equally to both mediums? Do they have the same audience?
It’s a similar goal. But I feel like when I do my own line, it’s not going to be anywhere near as mass as I am to start off with, because it’s impossible to start off there and be credible. I have to start small not only to gain respect, but to have time to learn and get better. I have to do some things that affect the world or affect culture, like I did with music. In fashion, trends are set on a high level, so I need to do stuff that hits the runway; like with the Louis shoe and its reverse tongue, that could set a trend that you’ll see on other shoes.
The Yeezys and the LV shoes represent two very different sides of your aesthetic.
I’m going to keep coming up with ideas, but I do want to state in black and white that somebody needs to give me a fucking chance. Don’t just one-off me! If Nike gave me the opportunity to be in there creating—not that they don’t already have genius designers like Hiroshi—I’m not saying that I think I’m the best designer in the world, but what I’m saying is that I think I can become that. I want to be able to be mentioned in the same breath as the greats. I just want to be competitive. Doing a licensing deal or something like that, that’s not real. What if Nike would’ve really given me a deal and allowed me to do lifestyle?
To do an entire sportswear line?
Yeah. You don’t think I would’ve killed that?
Sure. Could be ill.
Right. And I just feel like I’m screaming and jumping up and down; I feel like when I was trying to get a record deal and nobody would sign me. And yeah, I could put out an album independently, but without that Def Jam machine, I wouldn’t be able to get to a point where I could do the Glow in the Dark Tour.
Would you say your brand is about taking the niche and making it mainstream?
It all comes down to taste. It’s just saying, “I like this,” and I’d like to show other people that this is dope. It frustrates me that people say I don’t do my own blog, because I would never allow things to go up and say that this represents me.
Tell me about your process of discovery. You’re constantly absorbing new information, so who are you learning from?
I just keep a team of really, really dope people. Don C [from Kanye’s management] has to get the most credit because I respect his taste equally if not more than mine. I am me, but I am also a product of Don. So, basically, I am his artist even though he works for me. I’m a vessel of people’s ideas.
So you’re purposeful in the people you surround yourself with?
How ill is Taz?
Taz is crazy.
Taz Arnold, Willo Perron, Don C, Sakiya—it’s just about people that bring another level of creativity to what I bring.
For someone who’s known as an egomaniac, you seem to like to collaborate a lot—
Yeah. The fact that I love to collaborate with people, I think, is a very non-arrogant thing. I absorb information, and I want people to know where the information is coming from so those people can be in a position for people to listen to them and capitalize off of the genius that they bring to the table—because I surround myself with geniuses.
Do you think you’ve gotten to a place where there’s no self-consciousness or insecurity?
Yeah. There’s no insecurity in the work I do, the outfits I put together, the beats I make, the raps I say.
What was the turning point?
I guess my mom passing and getting out of certain situations and just being myself. Just getting the opportunity to be me and not be concerned about what people are going to say about things—to be my own worst critic. Like, I look at my Grammy speech from last year and I cringe. Me and Common always had an inside joke about releasing albums in different years, and it came off completely wrong. Nobody got it and it made me look like a complete asshole, and it just confirmed that Kanye’s arrogant and not appreciative. You should always be gracious in a situation like that because that’s their show. You know, who the fuck am I to feel like I have rights to any extra time when it’s their show? I came in as a bit of a hothead and now I’m completely respectful; I really have the opportunity to live my dreams out and have my Grammy moments and build a great relationship with these people. And I learned from that; I publicly apologized for it, and I apologized to Common for the way it sounded.
Speaking of public outbursts, why is it that you’ll flip on a journalist, like the dude from EW who shitted on the tour, but not another rapper that disses you?
Because I feel like I’m playing on the same intellectual level of a journalist and not of a rapper.
How so?
[Laughs.] I feel like if a rapper disses me, they’re just trying to get a rise out of me and get me to play in their field to find some way that they can beat me. I feel like there’s a lot of rappers that can beat me in ignorance. So why would I play a sport that I’m not particularly trying to get better at or beaten in? There’s a lot of rappers that can beat me in ignorance, but there’s only a few that can play with true intellect. [Long pause.] How fucking perfect is that fucking answer?!
Given all the information you get from those around you, what is the most important thing you learned last year?
It’s funny you ask that as a segue to this question because, if anything, it’s to have more belief in myself, in what I think. When I look at a photograph, I know if it’s the shit. I know if my outfit ain’t right, if my video ain’t right, if a song ain’t. Sometimes people will say, “Oh, it looks nice,” and I won’t think it looks nice. I know what level I want to be on.
So what would you say was the most important thing you learned about yourself in the last 12 months?
That I can be a very level-headed person. I would never spaz on MTV the way I did before. I feel like there are people who have given a lot to me and I wasn’t appreciative of them. MTV had a major part making me, so how the hell could I ever come out my mouth and diss them and just be like the crybaby-ass bitch over one performance? How the hell is a 29-year-old grown-ass man acting like a little bitch and getting all emotional? How spoiled can I get?
“How the hell is a 29-year-old grown-ass man acting like a little b*tch and getting all emotional? How spoiled can I get?”
Do you live in a state of anxiety over how you are being presented to the public?
In no way. It’s just that if I’m working with a writer that I feel don’t got my best interest in mind, I keep on telling them, “Put this in there” or “Don’t try to make me look like a monster.” But I’m not afraid. All I can do is be the best me and learn from the mistakes that I’ve made. There are mistakes that I’ve made that I deserve for people to look at me like a complete asshole; I have been a complete asshole. All I can do is just be a better person for myself—not to prove it to anyone, but just to be a better person, period. I beat myself up, and I make mistakes, and I get past it, and I get excited about the future.
So when you go to bed at night, there’s nothing—
Frustrating me?
Yeah.
The only thing is that I can’t talk to my mom anymore. Mistakes that I’ve made—things I didn’t do, things that I didn’t say, things I didn’t do to change that situation. That’s the only thing that hurts. In all the time that you’ve been around me, did I seem like I was really stressing shit?
Nope.
I think you can tell in the amount of time that you were with me whether it really affected me—like, remember when that dude approached me and shit?
Oh yeah, homeboy on the street in Hollywood who asked you to be his Valentine… [Laughs.]
My response was like, “OK, this confirms that people are saying that about me.”
True. You didn’t sweat it at all. Yeah, I wouldn’t characterize you as stressed out or depressed.
I was a bit depressed when I made “Pinocchio Story” and made the album and shit. But you just gotta scream it out.
With your mom gone, who do you trust the most?
Don C, to be honest. Then my cousin and my dad.
You’ve said 808s is your most personal record. Listening to it, there are recurring themes of trust, cheating, and paranoia. Why is that?
Because of mistakes that I’ve made from the beginning by not establishing a proper foundation of trust, just being a young dude who’s not trustworthy. Whoever you’re with is a reflection of you. It’s hard to be fully forgiven. People forgive, but they don’t forget.
What did you learn about yourself in your last relationship?
That I have to believe in myself. Then I had to learn that a woman is a reflection of you, so if you make mistakes, you will pay for them for the rest of the relationship.
Are you looking for a relationship in the future?
I think everybody wants to be in a relationship. I’m more of a boyfriend type. If I was ever in a situation with a bunch of girls, it’s just by default.
So you feel like monogamy is a realistic goal, even given the nature of your celebrity?
Who’s to say having a relationship declares monogamy?
Good point. [Laughs.]
Perched on a chair in a makeshift dressing room, Kanye backpedals a bit, and as a barber finishes giving him a shape-up, he takes a moment to regroup. “I used to go on interviews and the questions they’d ask me would be disrespectful in and of themselves. It wouldn’t be the questions you’d ask Jay-Z. I’d react in a certain way and [the press] would say, ‘Wow. Why’d you react like that? You’re wack.’”
Kanye turns his head away but continues talking, giving the impression that he’s less interested in a conversation than in having a forum in which to vent. “My thing is, if you don’t believe in it, nobody else is gonna believe in it. So a lot of the shit you hear [about me] comes from me fighting for my project… I knew what I had before the [sales numbers came in]. I used to tell people, ‘I’m gonna sell.’ That was my pitch to labels when they wouldn’t sign me.” Kanye looks straight ahead, his eyes twinkling. “So now that it’s happened, I had to apologize ‘cause I was just being a sore winner.”
He’s damn good and he knows it. As you’d expect from the rookie of the year, Kanye has charged off the bench, swinging and connecting like Bonds, posting Hall of Fame-worthy stats right out of the box. And even before he’d made the leap to the majors by signing with team Roc-A-Fella, Kanye had seized both the fans’ and industry’s attention by reigning as hip-hop and R&B’s go-to guy.
West—a former art-school student, who, as the title of the album suggests, abandoned his formal studies—has racked up an impressive list of production credits. Among them are Alicia Keys’ slice of Philly-soul cream cheese “You Don’t Know My Name,” Jay-Z’s “Izzo (H.O.V.A.),” and fellow-Chicagoan Twista’s former No. 1 hit “Slow Jamz.”
Like many a hot producer that preceded him, Kanye earned respect for being innovative and having the smarts to flip the script to ward off buyer burnout. There was no denying that the kid was nice, and if you didn’t know, Kanye lets you know. Even in an industry where egomania is expected and sometimes encouraged, Kanye’s one-man street team is worth marveling at: it has become as much a part of his backstory as his notable catalog of production work.
During this interview, Kanye mused about how magazine rating systems need to be rethought in order to take into consideration the amount of effort and time Kanye had expended on his album. “I had to fight to get the Harlem Boys Choir [for ‘Two Words’],” he says. “They wanted to give me the Hezekiah Walker Choir, but they came in all half-assed so I had to drive all the way [out to] the Hamptons [where they were performing] and pay the Harlem Boys Choir $10,000 to get them on the track. I went through a lot. It wasn’t, ‘Oh book the studio time, I’ll be there.’ I struggled.”
That’s why he dismisses any review that’s less than a full-out rave. “I got three-and-a-half stars in Rolling Stone. Obviously they don’t know shit about hip-hop,” he adds. “Even The Source: I got four-and-a-half mics. I thought it was a given I’d get five. If I never gave them another album again, all they would do three years from now is start re-rating The College Dropout.” He comes off like the guy in the bar who can’t stop recounting his exploits. Face it, Kanye West is feeling himself more than Pee-wee Herman in a porn theater.
“I saw [Oliver Stone’s movie] The Doors and saw the way Jim Morrison gave interviews. Mine aren’t half as bad as that,” Kanye offers in his defense, letting his guard down for a nanosecond only to let the machine rev back up again. “I definitely feel I am influential. You can’t take anything away from me if I have that ego. It’s part of the whole ambience, so just enjoy the ride.”
That, fans have done. The College Dropout is brimming with Kanye’s textured productions. “Pop music has a lot of instrumentation and I brought that to hip-hop,” he says. “I want to make songs that make you feel good. Every song is about a fucked-up situation and how we triumphed over it. I could sing about how much jewelry or how many clothes I wanna buy, or I could talk about the struggle I was going through when I was buying other people’s music and nobody was speaking for me.”
That’s deep. But point out the political nature of some of his tracks—e.g. the soaring “Spaceship,” which gives dignity to the kid trapped in a dead-end job—and Kanye demurs. “I don’t know any politician’s names, I’m not really talking about politics like that.” So if the college dropout is not political, what is he? Kanye thinks about it for a second then offers a cogent, if unapologetic assessment of himself:
“I’m more socially conscious than politically [conscious].”
So, this is the first time I’ve ever interviewed anyone. I’m a little nervous. I’ve had some whiskey.
OK, great. [Laughs.] I’m honored.
I was curious, who was more of an influence on your style? Your father or your grandfather?
Definitely my grandfather on my mother’s side. He was just sharp like that.
Do you think you’re nostalgic for that look, generationally? Was he more dapper?
Well, yeah, he was dapper—I don’t want to diss my dad’s style, but my dad would wear some JCPenney’s khakis and stuff. He wasn’t really into style like that. I remember one summer, when high-top fades was out, I was like 13 years old, and he told me, “OK, you can get your haircut once a month.” Which means that an Afro would start growing on the side of my head, so l had like a high-top fade and a high-top side.
[Laughs.]
And I remember I started crying, and he was like, “Yo, why you crying? I didn’t know your hair meant that much to you.”
When you were growing up in Chicago in those early adolescent years, who’d you look to as an aesthetic role model?
Well, I always was really into clothes and stuff like that. And they used to have a store called Merry-Go-Round in the mall and it was that store I wanted to go to and just stare at stuff. It was all that In Living Color-era stuff with the baggy Hammer slacks and the—
You were rocking Hammer slacks?
Yeah. I actually wore some Hammer slacks.
“Dress like you’re coming from somewhere and you got someplace to go.”
See, I had you for polka dots…
Oh yeah, I had both. So, uh, not my finest moment. But, I wore that to school—and this is back in grammar school. It’s like people wore that in videos, but people would never actually really wear that in real life. And that’s when I figured out that I didn’t really dress how people dressed in “real life.” I was like on TV before I was on TV.
When you visit family, do you dress more modestly?
People say you’re supposed to dress for the occasion. What I always say is dress like you’re coming from somewhere and you got someplace to go. You’ll probably be a little bit more yourself. That’s the attitude I had walking into Baseline studios in Italian shoes. I wasn’t dressing like I was supposed to stay in Baseline, you know what I’m sayin’?
Talk to me about your clothing line, Pastelle. We’ve had countless conversations about it, you’ve talked about your aspiration to get in this industry and be taken seriously. What’s going on with Pastelle today, why is it taking so long?
Just getting the right designs. It’s a gift and a curse. You’ve got all eyes on you, so if you deliver something great, it’s gonna get held as, “Oh, it’s supposed to be great.” And even if it’s good or it’s OK or something, it’s gonna get bashed. There were phases where I could just do the bear on a Polo and it would’ve made $100 million. At a certain point. But I always say I was a designer before I was a rapper, and I really wanted to get into design. So then, trying to start designing and goin’ with my girl down to the fashion district and stuff, and looking at fabrics and stuff like that, I’m like, “Oh, shit. This is real.” I’ve learned so much about materials and fabrics and applications and sequence and shiny fabrics and fits and all type of shit.
So when are you gonna do it? You didn’t answer my question.
Yeah, we’ll have stuff in stores by November.
OK, good for you.
You and I both know that I’ve had deals on the table. I was gonna put something in someone’s hands, but just with my music, with my videos, and anything I do, that’s like jail, for someone else to be able to push the button on you. Nothing beats the freedom of saying, “No, I don’t want to do that. Yes, I do want to do this.”
What in your life made you such a fucking micromanager? I’m not dissing you for that. I mean, Stanley Kubrick was a micromanager. But for sure, it’s a golden handcuffs for you. Is it from a position of fear? Is it a position of confidence? Where is it coming from?
Yeah, that’s a stumper. I don’t know where, what exactly made me… Well, my father was very much like that. I don’t want to use the word “anal,” but that’s what you have to be. Like, micromanager is a very nice way to say anal-retentive. Any project that he started doing he would get so focused on it.
Would it drive you crazy? Did it affect your relationship?
Well, no, because I was a little kid and all I could do was learn from it. So I got a lot of that focus from my dad, and the aspiration to be an entrepreneur or do something creative, do something that his neighbor wasn’t doing.
Our entire lives, white folks have copied Black trends, from fashion to music. And now we’re in this moment where it seems like things have flipped with Black kids dressing like hipsters and bikers. What happened and where is it going?
Style just keeps changing, and that’s what it is right now. What is the true take on hipster? Why do hipsters like the most gangsterest of the gangster rap music? What is the reason behind that? I think it’s a little racist. But it’s equally as racist as why we like the movie White Chicks.
Let me ask you something: Why do you think I’m a hater? I get the vibe that you think I’m a hater. Just a cynical, shit-talking—
Oh, a pessimist. Yeah, a pessimist and a hater are different because haters are usually like the underdogs. But you’re overdog, so how can you be a hater?
You must have done really good on your fuckin English SATs.
Yeah, I love semantics.
Oh, me too. I love words.
I love lamp [Editor’s note: word to Anchorman!]. Some people are optimists and some people are pessimists. I have a pessimist with me all the time: “I keep it real. Niggas don’t like that.”
Somebody to call shit on you, right?
Yeah.
You need that. A lot of people don’t realize that in order to be successful, you need someone to break down that wall and call shit on you.
Yeah. That’s what’s so dope about the blogs.
What one thing or person is the definitive muse in your life, that if it just evaporated it’d be a wrap for you as an artist?
Well. I wouldn’t say it’d be a wrap, but it would definitely change—living with my girl was always one of my muses.
You’ve been with her a long time, yeah?
I guess it’s about to be six years.
Time to get married—that’s a good cooking time, you need time to bake. Do you pick your nose in front of her?
I pick my nose in front of everybody.
Do you fart in front of her?
Nah, I don’t try to fart in front of anybody.
Oh, dog, when you get married it’s gonna all change! Anyhow, what’s the last time you heard a record that made you jealous?
I know this statement might come off awkward or whatever, people won’t get the translation right. But when I saw the Eve video [for “Tambourine”], it made me want to go back and do more shots on my video from a style level. She had the Christopher Kane dress, the vintage Chanel glasses. When I saw her style level in that, it made me say, “Damn, I need to step my style level up.” Because it’s not a matter of just guys’ style and girls’ style or Black style and white style it’s a matter of who is the style god period and shit.
Right now, in this moment, It seems so about the aesthetic. Which is king, content or aesthetic?
Well, you focus on the music first. That’s one of the reasons why it took me fuckin’ four months to finish the lyrics on “Stronger,” because the beat was just crazy and I hadn’t had people react to an instrumental like that since “Jesus Walks.” So then it’s like, “OK, we got this song that’s incredible. How do we match up a visual that could be on the same level and have all the layers that the song had?” I love that challenge: How do you become fuckin’ Disney and Shrek and Anchorman, those things that across the board are commercially successful—you know what I’m sayin’!
Yeah. Both of us have had degrees of crossover success. But we started with kind of a pure, inherent love for some very private club, this hip-hop thing. How do you gauge your music’s ability to cross over?
If you’re driving a car and you’re trying to get to another lane, you’re looking for your opportunity to get in this lane, right? My goal is to be on the freeway in a fucking plane. In all lanes at all times. The goal is not to cross over, the goal to try to do the impossible. Like, for me to have a party at the Louis Vuitton store and then to get into the car and hear Kay Slay play “Can’t Tell Me Nothing” was the greatest accomplishment for me. That was like the airplane thing. You’re in all lanes.
Louis Vuitton again. How much of that is aspiration, the pursuit of upper-crustedness?
Life is about “thank you, you’re welcome.” A lot of people would say, “Louis Vuitton should’ve gave you this or that.” But I branded myself with Louis Vuitton by being the guy who does wear Louis Vuitton. It helped bring me to a status where I could wear Comme des Garcons, which the hood doesn’t know about like that.
You talked about the blogs and seeing hate out there on the internet. 50 Cent on the Clinton Sparks Sirius show and Beanie Sigel on the latest Beef DVD—both guys who you’ve made beats for—are criticizing your style and essentially trying to say you’re gay. But you never respond.
I never put anybody down to big myself up. I just big myself up. The one time where they could say I dissed somebody is the George Bush thing. But I didn’t say, “Hey George Bush is a bitch.” I said, “George Bush doesn’t care about Black people,” something that came out of an emotion I felt. It wasn’t something I would’ve just said to be bringin’ someone down. Yeah, if I’m in the privacy of my own home, or my friends, I’ll talk shit about whoever. But I know the power I have; I would never do or say anything to take money out of someone’s mouth.
[Laughs.] Are you becoming a kinder, gentler Kanye?
I’m just trying to control my power.
