A Mastermind That's Been Wrongly Crucifide

I just landed on some video chat with Hip Hop's biggest in Pop Kanye West who finds faith in describing his new collection of art "G.O.O.D." as not being the beginning nor the end of the conversation. Set inside the center of the world's most decorated generation, the view of the valley floor continues to be a judgment first without listening approach to exploration. I don't know if I've ever forgiven Kayne. A moment, a sliver of space, a decision to climb upward toward a podium to express decisional dissatisfaction while publically offering support in areas of assumed unspoken. At the height of "Greater" value a letting go of the guards left an innocent Taylor Swift locked and lost in several shades of well documented shock. What? Was I supposed to instantly understand? A collision of brilliant artistry had unfolded the blankets that usually hide the mix ups and outs of the business called music. And this night changed the life of not only the listener but the man that would have to fight his way back. Through video we learn not of a kinder heart but a desired passion. Candy coated Kayne is not and it's the fault of an uneducated judgment caused by the effects of decisions gone wrong that the genius in Mr. West is kept from so many surfaces of acceptance. That needs to change... I'm not afraid to admit my failures and embarrassments of presentation. Being one that sets up his own stage. It's been my sickness to fill silence. I can't stand walking into a hall and the only thing I hear is the scraping of chairs across wooden or concrete floors, fingers fumbling table designs and ceiling fans connected to a constant whirling with the occasional clinking of the chain that influences the motor to wanna work. Therefore the destination of first thought is based on locating rhythms and rhymes not necessarily of my liking but those in attendance. And it's my disconnected assumption to believe that what you see must always be what you want to make part of your personal stage. I'm often reminded that Latin music has the cover of many different emotional escapes. To assume steals from the paint while leaving the inside sleeve empty of words the artist had chosen to sing. Basically meaning I don't know who you are until you tell me. "G.O.O.D" from Kanye West blends into place not a race or color but a continuation of a sound and idea that tells a better story of America than the 11:00 news. For a man to be vibrant with his art by way of setting it free does not deserve to live in a past that cannot be changed. Therefore the journey evolves into rediscovery. I sat with the Preacher Man that steps into my studio twice a week to study the written word not of the Bible but of the Poets that turn their release into air for the ears to breathe...and he asked me, "What do you think is God's calling?" "Words..." my sharpest tool in the chest. "If more people spent time listening to the accent of "words" hidden from technology; time would develop places of well deserved rest. Followed by fields of tremendous growth." The Preacher Man wanted me to mix his music with vocals blaring beneath the message. Mentally challenged by a passion to expose the depths of "words" I found myself defending why I love Kanye West. The writer, producer, visionary, marketing brilliance he's always been has never sold out on making "words" the most important part of the story. "Words" Hip Hop isn't afraid to melt the wax protecting the plastic eyes of a nation blinded by faith. I was there when record store windows and mirrors failed to show my face in the reflection choosing instead their attempt to point fans of music into a different direction. In the early 1990's handwritten signs hung in the Southern sun simply stating: We don't sell nor intend to sell Hip Hop or Gangsta. I still hate myself for not walking out of the DJ nightclub scene when manager's of clubs halted me from playing Michael Jackson until 11p. Even today radio stations refuse to play the stories that were forced to hide in poetry. Being one that writes every day there's no way I can explain the mindset of who, what, where and why at that time...therefore the imagination is forced into a game of assumption recreating the consumption of "words." Who dreamed that Baby Got Back from Sir Mix Alot would be just as much a classic as Twist and Shout from The Beatles? Have you already forgotten about how record stores wouldn't explore Hip Hop choosing instead to instantly label it as a no show? Have you forgiven yourself for stealing music from Napster? Why then are you keeping yourself from the "words" of "G.O.O.D" from Kanye West? What if you're missing out on one of the most creative minds of this time? Does that give you the right to find it entertaining thirty years from this page? The birth of music is a passion play. Why are you putting it on a cross? arroe@arroe.net The Rollingstone Magazine interview: Warning its very real and filled with artful words that don't mix well with offices and churches.