Jesus is King Listening Party Recap
Jesus is King Listening Party Recap
I attended Jesus is King: A Kanye West Experience on 9/28/19 in Chicago. Here is my recap of the night, a few recreations of some of the melodies, and some reflections.
My first introduction to ‘Kanye West as religious experience’ was his 2010 performance of Runaway at the VMAs. I remember sitting in the living room of my old house with my dad and older brother, all of us fully arrested by the performance, and realizing for the first time how beautiful music could be. I didn’t have the words for it at the time, and maybe I still don’t. I just knew I was witnessing a moment. I was aware of the Taylor Swift debacle that occurred at the very same event a year prior, and even had the “I’mma Let U Finish” app on my iTouch. But mostly I remember finding it odd how he was greeted with raucous applause despite the supposed pariah the media had made him out to be for the previous 364 days.
My second time observing Kanye West as religious experience came a little over three years ago at Chance the Rapper’s one-day music festival, Magnificent Coloring Day. Kanye’s name wasn’t on the star-studded lineup, but just about everyone in the sold-out U.S. Cellular Field was fully expecting an appearance. Hell, even Jimmy Butler (sporting a Blackhawks jersey) and a guy from Black-ish made on-stage cameos. Sure enough, a few artists into the set, the opening of FSMH blared out from the center field speakers. It was instant pandemonium. I was seated a bit too far to try and make a break for the field, but thousands of people were leaping over the bannisters and trampling past security to get closer to their god.
The Event Itself
After getting my tickets at 4:31 PM and calling everyone I know, I put on my TLOP shirt, took a train down to the city, and started queueing outside the theater around 6:30 PM – 2.5 hrs before the 9:00 PM start time listed on Ticketmaster.
The line was already about 150 people deep when my roommate and I arrived at the Auditorium Theater, and just about to bend around the block. The crowd so far was a diverse group of ~22-30 year olds, every single one of them donning some form of Kanye apparel. Many had hype-beast energy. I spent most of my time in the queue chatting with a friendly guy from the city who kept up with streetwear trends. Every so often he would point out a pair of Yeezy’s or a person’s full outfit and tell me exactly how much that person spent on it. In our time waiting together, he estimated over a dozen people wearing upwards of a thousand dollars in attire.
House opened around 8:45 PM. Upon the presentation of our mobile tickets, we were handed pouches that resembled middle school pencil cases. Admission was only granted once all phones and Apple watches were locked in said pouches. Once sealed, it was impossible to be re-opened without the use of the security guards’ fastening contraptions. We were told to “turn on AirDrop” (not a thing, btw) before locking our phones away. Apparently, we were to be AirDropped some sort of .gif or picture “from Kanye” that only sent once our phones were in these compartments (Arrested Development narrator voice: “we weren’t”).
The theater itself was astonishing. Massive, beautiful paintings adorned the ceiling all the way up to the nosebleeds, and a mural of biblical sorts stretched all the way across the top of the projector screen currently drawn down on stage. Fitting, no doubt. Even though there was plenty of available seating, many people were full-on sprinting to find the closest available seats.
The first 15 rows were all empty, and every single person (including your correspondents) genuinely thought they had committed some sort of robbery by being able to score these unbelievable seats. Why is no one else getting as close as possible, we all undoubtedly thought as we got closer and closer, it’s not like this is some sort of comedy show where the comedian is going to pick on the front row. Of course, our robbery was immediately disarmed by the determined security guards. Evidently these seats were for VIPs; your correspondents still have no word on how they were able to achieve such status.
We “settled” for two seats one row behind the VIP section on stage right, about 18 rows back, in the center-most seats of the “Audience–Left” part of the venue’s seating triptych. I cracked open my $9 Miller Lite and made myself comfortable.
Something I often forget about re: grand, public events is that a large portion of the American population will lose their f-ing minds for a free t-shirt. Fortunately for Kanye, his marketing team didn’t. As we anxiously waited for Kanye to enter with no way of telling how long we’d been seated, the only thing reminding us of time’s arrow was someone from the crowd shouting “Merch! Merch!”, as a few people from ?? G.O.O.D. Music ?? frantically waved around a hitherto sold-out JIK hoodie or jumper like they were the T-shirt cannon people at the Bulls game.
People went absolutely mental at the possibility of claiming one. The drunk girl behind me kept asking her visibly-annoyed boyfriend to run towards the merch people and grab one for her. I’m pretty sure Kim briefly made an appearance from the side seats on stage left, and threw one out to a man literally yelling, “Oh my godddd!!!”.
The two guys next to us had came to the show completely on a whim. They happened to be in town because their fantasy football league visits a different football stadium each year as a way to travel and keep in touch. This season they picked Soldier Field, and they just happened to enter the Ticketmaster waiting room on the off-chance they might be able to cop some tickets. It made me think back to the classic question asked by campus ambassadors when visiting a college: “who here thinks they traveled the furthest to get here today?”, and the family from China invariably winning the icebreaker every single time. It made me wonder: what percent of this audience was on a plane today? Surely some of the VIPs had flown from New York or LA, but I imagine people from Indiana, Wisconsin, and Michigan all entered the waiting room, too.
One of the fantasy football dudes secures one of the giveaway hoodies. After what feels like an hour, the voice of Saint West blares through the waffle-combed acoustics of the auditorium:
“Hi, this is Saint!” came the adorable voice. “Are you ready for my daddy?” (roars from the crowd). “Are you ready for Kim?” (weird, but more roars). “This shit is gunna be crazy!” Pandemonium.
Enter – Kanye. He stands beside Kim and North in the “Abe Lincoln” seats on the Stage Left side of the theater, wearing a vest. Clearly, no one thought to tell the VIPs this is where he’d be setting up shop for the night. He holds a Mac laptop, and there are 2-3 other people with him.
Two minutes of ovation passed before he simply said, in a way only Kanye can, “Chicago.”.
I’ve never heard a single word receive more applause in my entire life.
He asked us before we listened to the album if we want to watch a brief documentary about the charity work he’s doing for rebuilding homes in the Bahamas. Everyone went nuts. People were literally going apeshit at the prospect of watching a documentary. I attended a four-day festival for documentaries in March, and the combined pre-show applause of the dozen or so films I watched that weekend was tripled in size by the ~2,000 people here tonight.
Before we sat down however, he asked if we would all bow our heads while he said a prayer. This was the first moment where I knew the night was officially about to get weird. Kanye could hardly string together a full sentence without someone interrupting him - either hooting and hollering at his pastoral rhetoric, or simply taking this opportunity to scream, “I LOVE YOU KANYE!”.
I’m not a particularly religious person. I’ve been at maybe two meals in my life where a person involved said grace. But holy crap, the disrespect from a crowd of “fans” – people wearing this man’s shoes, fighting over his clothing, memorizing his lyrics and internalizing them as an extension of their own personality – was shocking. Kanye made an aside, saying, “this has got to be the only prayer with cheering in it”, but the subtext was lost on the majority of the crowd.
This is a man who validates their hardships, gives them confidence, and his followers can’t even let him literally say a prayer on their behalf. Halfway through the prayer (of which he clearly had more to say), he just told the tech people to play the documentary.
The film’s acoustics were completely off (which should have been a harbinger of what was to come), and definitely should have had closed captioning. It was nearly impossible to make out much of the mangled audio, and I remain unclear on what it was really about. It was lots of B-roll of Kanye in beautiful areas (which the credits would reveal included the likes of Japan, Uganda, and the Bahamas), mixed with shots of him looking pensive at a table of blueprints aside bespectacled architects. The parts I could make out involved Kanye laying out to these other men how he wanted the design of these ambiguous buildings to look – usually circular. There was vague rhetoric about the desire of humans to be in a community and circled around a hub, as in a school, a church, and a cafeteria, and more shots of round-table discussion. Credits eventually rolled to the tune of thunderous applause.
Jesus Is King Songs
Below are some scattered notes on the songs I can remember (there might have been one or two more I’m forgetting). Until the last song (in which the image on screen appeared to switch to ‘Night Mode’), the massive projector displayed a variation of the Jesus is King logo from the hoodie. A being one can only assume is Jesus stands comfortably in the sky above a few clouds, acting as a gatekeeper to the heavens. He has one arm raised, and appears inviting.
I internally note how Jesus’ role here sort of mirrors the security guards in front of the VIP section. I briefly consider the whole empty seat thing to be an intentional choice by Kanye as some sort of metaphor for not being able to get into heaven just yet, but abandon this interpretation when he invites everyone in the upper decks to come fill in the empty seats.
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** It should be worth noting that some of these songs were only played for about a minute and a half. Whether this indicated they were unfinished, or that Kanye only intended to show us a few snippets to gauge our approval was a subject of much debate by yr. corresps. after the show.
Up from the Ashes - new attempt from Mon. night
All Kanye said before pressing play on his Mac was, “This first song is called Up From the Ashes”. Here is my attempt at recreating the general melody of the first few lines. It was pretty one-note, if I had to compare its atmosphere to any of his existing songs, it would probably be “Only One” feat. Paul McCartney. Not in terms of the subject matter or emotional weight, but because of the lightness and limited instrumentation or layered production. I’ll be honest - it sounded very much like a demo.
Follow God
The smell of blunts being lit up permeates the air. I can’t remember much of this song sonically, other than that I really liked it. The lyrics were very much about Jesus, God, faith, and love.
It becomes clear that very few people in attendance have been to an album release party before, let alone with the artist present. There’s a bit of anxious energy in the room, too, almost willing the project to be good. Surely no one is more anxious than Kanye, whose eager eyes resemble after certain songs your friend whose shoddy improv show you just saw.
At this point, many people in the crowd are standing up, nodding along in concert. I personally don’t think I’ve ever listened to a new album while standing up, so I remain seated. My roommate remarks on the cult-like atmosphere. I nod.
Closed on Sunday (the Chick Fil-A song)
“This next song is called Closed on Sunday, like Chick Fil-A”, jokes Kanye in the way only he can.
I can’t remember if there was a song before this one, but this is the next I remember. It was definitely my favorite – even compelling me to stand – and by far the most complete thing we heard in terms of having a clear structure and build to it. The production here is mysterious and heavy. Yr. corresps. get the sense that many people feel compelled to pull their phones out and video-tape themselves experiencing this song, only to remember they are locked away.
LA Monster
I believe this is the beat that had a metronome-esque seatbelt alarm keeping a pointed, frantic time in the background, similar to the song Lay-by by Tennyson. However the beat here was much more rigid and staccato than the alarm in Lay-by, and kept wanting to drop into a hard beat. Unfortunately, it never did. The lyrics talked about the zombie-like people in LA, who need Jesus and let the devil control too many of their thoughts and actions. Many people are nodding and demonstrably agreeing with the words. Again, this is weird.
On God - Pierre song
The beat here is your standard 2010’s rap beat c/o Pierre, but the bass has been raised so loud that I cannot hear many of the lyrics. Rest assured, I could still make out the occasional “Jesus” or “lord” every couplet or so. Someone behind me says they heard Kanye was late because he was performing “All We Got” with Chance over at the United Center. I remark how the people at the Chance concert probably saw Kanye on stage for a longer time tonight than we’re about to.
Water (here’s my attempt at the general melody)
Next was Water, the only song I’d heard before. I actually prefer the Coachella version. Here it sounds a bit muffled, “underwater”, even, and less driven by the natural open space of the prior version. People are starting to dance.The drunk girl behind me is grinding on her boyfriend. “It’s funny to watch people forget they don’t have to perform for social media”, I say to my roommate. My roommate notes that the eyes all around them probably still feel like cameras. Touché.
Selah - (the “Hallelujah!” song)
This song was what the clip from Friday night’s Detroit performance came from. It was epic. It was cinematic. It was also unbelievably loud. I felt like I was approaching Heaven, but still unsure if I was going to get in. Halfway through the song, so far just a verse from Kanye, the word Hallelujah is sung daringly for what feels like an eternity by a chorus of what can only be interpreted as angels. It is broken up by emotional, rapid-fire verses from Kanye. I am reminded of the moment in the South Park movie where Kenny thinks he’s about to get into Heaven. He sees beautiful, naked women and presses a button for admission. He then sees the words, ACCESS DENIED, and immediately plummets into the highly-populated, heavy-metal HELL.
I feel like both parts of that scene are happening to me at once, like I’m plummeting down into Heaven. I’m not alone. The audience has visibly dropped their act of “I fux wit it so far”, and is transfixed. People are lifting their hands up. Kanye runs the entire song back. This time, the entire audience has their hands up during the Hallelujah section. It is a transcendent moment. Kanye can tell we are more engaged now. It felt like he wanted to run it again, but he moved on.
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I could be wrong, but I believe this is the moment where he started to say a few words again, but continued to be interrupted by his rabid acolytes.
I got really annoyed because he was pretty clearly trying to explain to his own apostles how Jesus saved him during his recent breakdowns and frequent hospitalizations. Of course, he has since found God, and claims to be fully recovered. The words I cannot get out of my head from this digression are, “Jesus gave me back my mind”. After one particularly annoying heckler screamed something about Kim looking hot, I fired back possibly a little too loudly “shut up!”. Seconds after, Kanye – after a tug on his sleeve– replied, “North says shut up is a bad word”.
The crowd cheered, and I have literally never felt more terrified in my life. These shivers were definitely not the “goosebumps” as advertised by Ticketmaster. My roommate later clarified he thinks it’s because Kanye himself also said shut up, but that moment will forever haunt me. My efforts to give Kanye more voice at his own event, somehow swatted away by the man himself.
Kanye gathered himself, and calmly told the crowd he is not here to entertain them. The room is SILENT. That, “this is not some comedy show where you can just heckle the performer”.
“THIS IS MY LIFE”, echoes his voice, to cautious applause from the very people who’ve been interrupting him endlessly all night. Kanye continues on, and you can hear a pin drop. We have officially experienced every emotion on the spectrum, and there’s still a whole second movie yet to watch. While watching Kanye during this moment, I’m reminded of Andre 3000’s profound reflections in the latter half of Hey Ya. My roommate looks back at me as if to say, this event is officially REALLY WEIRD.
Next is a song featuring Fred Hammond. Can’t remember the title. I don’t know why, but I was expecting this. Unfortunately, that clip never appeared in any shape during the entire night. I can’t remember much of this song, but I generally liked it and also started to realize we were officially not going to see any live performance, nor any gospel, and started to get a bit let down.
Use This Gospel - feat. Clipse and Kenny G. on sax
Here’s me monkeying out the notes of the chorus
This was another powerful moment. Kanye mentioned how he envisioned the chorus to one day echo out in soccer stadiums. Our guinea pig test proved it will no doubt sound dope af at Bulls games for years to come as Zach LaVine jacks up contested long-twos with 20 seconds left on the shot clock.
The verses from Pusha T and No Malice honestly sounded like they were having trouble finding the rhythm of the beat.
The album listening party is now over, and he asks if we want to watch another documentary, this time about the making of Sunday Service. More applause.
The Jesus is King graphic disappears and we literally see the Mac’s screen on the projector. Someone opens up the next documentary on Quicktime Media Player. They start playing it five minutes in for literally no reason. Kanye is talking to this person through the microphone, “No, start it a little earlier, yeah there, no a little earlier, yeah… wait, do you guys wanna see the whole thing? (Cheering) nah yeah just start it from the beginning. And turn that shit up. Turn it all the way up. (we hear the Mac volume noise boink up a few times) Turn it all the way, yeah (we see the little volume Mac icon turned to as loud as possible)”.
Before describing the rest of the night, I need to properly communicate that this documentary was actually the loudest thing I have ever heard in my entire life. After about a minute of watching the film – which is largely b-roll of beautiful nature accompanied by footage of songs that are familiar if you’ve been watching the Sunday Service videos – many people start to file out. It is simply way too fucking loud. During a lull, one guy shouts, “Yo Kanye, turn it down!”. More and more people walk out after each new song. I don’t think I’m exaggerating, it was literally that loud. You can feel the familiar energy of schoolchildren genuinely praying that a boring video in Health class is over after each song ends. My roommate leaves, but I’m determined to see this through to the end.
Volume aside, the film is stunning. It contains about 7 full songs, including a re-lyricized version of “Lost in the World” with biblical verbiage, and closes with a tender rendition of “Streetlights”. Kanye exits from the balcony area about halfway through the playing of this film.
The choir and Kanye are located in divine structures during these filmings, often resembling the interior of Bob Hope’s house in Palm Springs. One of the structures they perform in has a literal golden staircase descending from the circular opening, symbolizing a stairway to heaven. I start to deduce that these edifices are what he was designing in the previous documentary. The people still here are all watching with both hands clamped over their ears.
The chorus is wonderful. The single most remarkable musical moment of the full night, adjusted for volume, was the overwhelming filming of How Excellent. We only see the choir director, shot in black and white, with the opening of the Hope-esque structure above his head. The room echoes as his off-screen choir bellows and belts. He is giving his full body to the song, to the spirit, as if the energy of this chorus is being sent through the hole in the sky to God himself. Trying to awaken him or generate his curiosity, so that in hearing their beautiful praises he might be nice enough to answer their prayers. Or maybe God is entering through the hole and manifesting himself through the choir director’s body, and into the music. But probably a little bit of both. It’s hard to deny this isn’t actually happening. The scene, even at 10 decibels too loud, is that divine.
These thoughts are quelled by more and more people leaving. It’s hard not to comment on the irony here. Kanye is accidently doing the exact opposite of what he set out to with this project. He is literally forcing religion onto deaf ears. People are not only failing to indulge him on his belief system, but are quite literally plugging their ears, unable to bear it. There’s a lot of metaphor going on here, I think to myself, as I crack open my $5 bag of Goldfish.
Eventually, a sigh of relief sweeps through the auditorium after the Daniel Caesar-esque rendition of Streetlights (a curious way to end an evening, to say the least) finishes. A few words along the lines of “Shot for IMAX” briefly dance on screen. Roll credits.
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Takeaways:
As someone conditioned (probably by Marvel) to stay seated until the very end of a screening, I was one of the last people to leave once the house lights went back up. I don’t know what I was expecting, especially since we literally saw Kanye leave, but a part of me was hoping for more. Something. Anything. Not a single word was uttered about the album, or what was to be expected re: next steps, and yet no one seemed to care. I started having lots of thoughts about fame, celebrity, what it means to be of faith, and re-examined my criticisms of religious people.
I began to realize I might be of faith to art, and that it is likely a sign of privilege to criticize those who do believe in God. That I’m passing judgement on faith, when my faith in good art to articulate and validate my thoughts is at times the only way I can make sense of the world. Faith in someone like Kanye. Maybe religion reflects an external locus of control, which I’m only able to criticize on account of being a privileged white male, and literally can control anything in my life if I actually, truly wanted to. Maybe art is my version of “God”. Maybe Kanye already knows this. Maybe this whole rouse is all one big charade for us to further deify him. His son is literally named Saint for goodness sake. Or maybe, more innocently, his plan all along was really just to spread the good word of Jesus Christ, because he really believes in doing so, only now he’s doing it more explicitly and with less subtlety.
An old acting teacher of mine used to often say, “Good art should disturb the comfortable, and comfort the disturbed”. Obviously, “good” is subjective. Not to mention that upon acknowledging the religious undertones of the word ‘good’, “good art” takes on a more nuanced meaning here.
But I think strictly speaking by this axiom, Jesus is King is good art.
It’s certainly given me a lot to think about.
Hope you enjoyed reading this :)
Feel free to comment below with your thoughts as well.
I’m curious what anybody, religious or atheist, casual fan or Yandhi truther, has to say about this bizarre experience, especially if they were in attendance.
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