Runaway by Yeezy (while not those which he expected (and more than likely will one day earn), Ups to RobertEarl on the recco). I’ve been obsessed with this song for the last week or so for a number of reasons:
(1) I’ve found myself defaulting to My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy when I’ve craved hip-hop recently. During this time, I’ve decided that Runaway is the best track on Kanye’s masterpiece (maybe the best track he’s ever done) and have such listened to it specifically quite a lot. During this listening I decided there is really nothing like Kanye’s resigned but unrepentant, self-loathing over his appetites, like he’s reading from his therapy diary. He’s hip-hop’s Taylor Swift (which goes to a whole other level of irony). But he also has to celebrate all the mistakes he feels like he’s making, because he’s rapper. It really plays out well, in such a way that I want to feel sorry for him, and then punch him in the face. Runaway expresses that perfectly;
(2) I noticed the intro to this song was used (at lord knows what cost (N.B. Yeezy be hustlin’)) at the beginning of InBev’s (N.B. The Belgo-Brazilian multinational beverage company that owns American’s King of Beers.) commerical for its latest interation of mass-produced piss, Bud Lite Platinum; and
(3) RobertEarl directed me to A.V. Undercover. This is a project by the Onion’s A.V. Club, a non-satirical film/television/music/literature review website that I read quite often but somehow missed this. For the Undercover project readers selected 25 songs and certain bands were invited to come to the Onion’s studio and cover them. The catch was that it’s first come first serve. Once a song has been covered, no other band may choose it. It made for some enthralling combinations. In 2011, Runaway was on the Undercover list. And a band I’d never heard of named Parts and Labor selected it. The results were magical.
Parts and Labor describe themselves as “experimental/noise rock.” I’ve since listened to some of their stuff, and I can say with high level of certainty that I have no idea what that means. Some of it lends itself to Nine Inch Nails, minus a tortured Trent Reznor, but a lot of it is aptly described as noise. And if I didn’t know you and we were speaking on the phone, and you told me you had an “experimental/noise rock” band I’m certain this is how you’d look.
They come off intensely serious (in the “we are making art, fuck you if you don’t get it” kinda way) about their noise. So their choice of Yeezy’s seminal ballad celebrating the choices he knows contribute to the world’s hedonistic scum-bag (N.B. “I sent the bitch a picture of my dick.”) perception of him, was ballzy. While they admit not singing certain (objectionable) lyrics, their take on it seemed pretty sincere. At least it captivated me. Here’s the link. Enjoy.