The Sunday Comic: Kanye West's "I Love Kanye"

New rap songs get the comic strip treatment.

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Image via Complex Original
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You used to love Kanye. That is, the “so self-conscious” Kanye. The “people highest up got the lowest self-esteem” Kanye. You grew up with that Kanye. You were in high school with that Kanye. The Chaka Khan-sampling Kanye. You dated your first girlfriend due to a mutual love for that Kanye. Not only did you have the popped collar Polo, but you also accidentally bought fake Bapestas because of that Kanye. Eventually, those fake Bapestas fell apart and you outgrew the Polo, but you still loved Kanye. Even the new Kanye.

That is, the “Roc is alive every time I rhyme” Kanye. The “even your superficial raps is super official” Kanye. To you, this was pretty much the same Kanye. You stayed in your school’s orchestra because of this Kanye. At that time, you would have liked to meet Kanye. You might have tried to sell your fake Bapestas as real ones just to meet that Kanye. 

When that Kanye went to outer space, you forgave Kanye. You may have been a bit confused at first with this Kanye. That is, the stadium Kanye. The futuristic Kanye. The just-got-off-the-plane-from-Japan Kanye. The “I told God I’ll be back in a second” Kanye. The synths, robot helmets, and Auto-Tune Kanye. You learned to accept this Kanye.

But then at a certain point, you just didn’t know what to do with Kanye. The newest form of Kanye. That is, the sing-my-heart-out-through-the-machine Kanye. The non-rapping Kanye. You felt abandoned by this Kanye. You hated this Kanye. You and all your friends agreed to no longer ride with this Kanye. You were stuck with your real heroes, the handful of old Kanyes.  


But then the girl you’ve been with since the first Kanye broke up with you, and you brought back this new Kanye. You loved her like Kanye loves Kanye. You tried listening to this Kanye. You gave it another chance just for Kanye. Now it was all starting to make sense from this Kanye. You let yourself dwell on your breakup to this Kanye. You let yourself be depressed with this Kanye. You got over her with this Kanye. You finally felt that you understood this Kanye. You asked for forgiveness from this Kanye. You found someone new to this Kanye. You told those same friends to revisit this Kanye because once again, perhaps even more now, you loved Kanye. 

Those friends didn’t come back around to that Kanye until the new Kanye. That is, the give-the-people-what-they-want Kanye. The “perfect” Kanye. The “fantasized about this back in Chicago” Kanye. But you had told those friends not to give up on Kanye. You stopped being friends with those friends over the old Kanye. It had seemed for a while like everyone was done with Kanye. Now all your old friends act like they had always been down with Kanye. They've also all clearly started to dress like Kanye.

But those same friends gave up on Kanye again when they heard the new Kanye. That is, the angry Kanye. The let-me-make-clothes Kanye. The blank CD Kanye. The “fuck every question you asking” Kanye. The screaming god Kanye. The 40 years in the future Kanye. You knew yourself well enough to anticipate potentially liking this Kanye. It grew on you like every old Kanye. 

Then you waited for Kanye. In fact, this was the longest you had ever waited for Kanye. You had faith in Kanye. Even when Kanye gave you the “Facts” Kanye, because he also gave you the “Real Friends” Kanye. Was Kanye giving you the new Kanye while at the same time bringing back some of the old Kanye? At any rate, you refused to doubt Kanye. You were ready, maybe even excited, for the idea of a gospel album Kanye. The happily married with kids Kanye. The dad Kanye. The I-told-you-so, successful clothing line Kanye. The “listen to the kids, bro” Kanye. The change-my-album-title-on-a-whim Kanye. Then what he finally gave you was the “I just want to feel liberated” Kanye. The “this is a God dream” Kanye. 

You love this new Kanye. That is, the “I used to love Kanye” Kanye.

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