Kanye West, Ye — Bully (2026)

An album of regressed sounds that feel like legacies of the past, yet two tracks that capture the ears

My interest in Kanye’s music essentially ended with My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Since then, I’ve found no inspiration in his albums, aside from a few scattered tracks. It is a matter of personal taste, but I have yet to hear an album that surpasses Graduation. It is a matter of personal taste, but I have yet to hear an album that surpasses Graduation. Seeing the much-discussed and controversial Bully dominate the charts, I listened to this album from start to finish with focused curiosity. I felt once again that I could no longer find songs like those in his past albums; rather, I could only think of it as an album more regressed than before. However, what captured my ears among them were the track <Father> and the immediately following track, <All the love>.

In terms of sound, <Father> appears similar in structure to the past Father Stretch My Hands Pt. 1, but the part that feels more developed sound-wise is that Johnnie Frierson’s Heavenly Father, You’ve Been Good is sampled with vocals heard from a distance, beginning as a chant with praise for gratitude and existence, before giving way to a sense of ambivalent tension as noise — distorted 808s added to a signature Travis Scott beat — provides a percussive impact. The lyrical content reveals a self-boasting entirely different from the beginning. He bids farewell to his long-standing self and speaks of a “new me.”

Then, it returns to the chant-like section, feeling like gratitude and repentance. Immediately followed by a Travis Scott part with an urgent beat, it reveals dark hallucinogenic energy and bravado similar to Kanye. The finale concludes with the earlier chant-like section saying “Help us now,” making a desperate plea for salvation. This contrast — the duality and contradiction of a human being — is so starkly juxtaposed in the sound that the sonic texture was interesting and never boring.

The review then moves to the next track, <All the love>. I consider this the highlight of the album. Personally, it came across as a new sound compared to Kanye’s previous songs, and I have been listening to it quite a lot before writing this review. Starting with Andre Troutman’s vocals layered with talkbox sounds, accompanied by a strong and urgent 808 beat, Kanye confesses — as if hypnotizing himself — not about reflection or self-introspection, but that there is no need to worry and that wounds heal with time.

Ironically, the high notes that scream out from the 2:36 mark felt like a cry expressing pain. He continues to tell himself and us, as if under hypnosis, that there is no need to worry and no need to Hold. Personally, I perceived this as a contradiction between the sound and the lyrics. Through the collaboration with André Troutman, who carries the legacy of the talkbox, Kanye hides his inner pain behind a mechanical device while simultaneously completing a dual sound that feels like a scream.

I do not know if both Kanye and Ye were listed due to branding, but the part that resonates with me is that they feel like separate egos singing. Two unintegrated selves. I hope that they find peace within God. The shadow behind success.

| Talkbox Reference: Refer to 2Pac’s “California Love”