How famous can Kanye West get?
Apparently so famous that people will brave gargantuan crowds and horrifying parking prices just to see him perform at Amalie Arena over two hours late (granted, “band time” runs at least an hour late for many gigs because of soundcheck). So famous that some people spent the entire concert flashing the Illuminati hand sign. So famous that a kid with his arm in a sling made it out to see the show. So famous that a stranger gave me her number because, as a member of the media, she thought I was going to meet up with him afterwards and wanted me to bring her along.
But what does fame mean to Kanye West? I did not meet him, but after this show I feel I have a much better idea about how he would answer that question. West has spent ample time exploring what it means to be famous. Now, on the Saint Pablo Tour, considered by some to be the greatest live concert of all time, fans have a chance to watch him atop the pedestal lording it over the audience.
Actually, it was a platform suspended by wire. West floated out above the crowd at around 10:15 p.m.. Sure enough, one of the first songs he played was “Famous.” The audience seemed to know every word. Spotlights beamed down from all sides of the platform creating a floodlight effect that gave everyone their 15 minutes.
He followed it with his verse from Schoolboy Q’s “That Part,” which sounded even more oddball and unhinged live, “Mercy” and “Facts (Charlie Heat Version).” At some point after “Facts,” he called out Kid Cudi for the first time, responding to some Twitter comments the rapper had posted.
“Kid Cudi, don’t mention ‘Ye name,” he yelled out to the crowd. “I birthed you.”
After another song, he returned to the internet confrontation, this time sounding more disappointed and disheartened than angry.
“I’m so hurt,” he continued. “I feel so disrespected. We two black men in a racist world.”
Soon after, the performance suffered through a technical difficulty, which also happened again later in the night. For the first time, he stopped moving and leaned forward, head down, the wire tying him to the platform pulled taut. The rant had drained him.
Through it all, the audience preserved its vigor, chanting “Yeezy” while the floor crowd kept moshing without music. The constant energy and worship refueled him and he came back from this slump stronger than before.
Right after, “All Day” came on, and the floor went crazy, every limb jerking and flailing. Next came “Black Skinhead,” for which West seemed to let loose himself, jumping on the platform in sync with the crowd.
“Blood on the Leaves” and “Feedback” were both highlights as well, with the bass turned up so high you could feel your eardrums vibrate. “Jesus Walks” was a return to old form, an anthem about his faith in God that everyone sang, proving their faith in Kanye.
Clearly, West loves being famous. He loves that everyone knows the words to his songs. He loves testing his fame, too, seeing what he can do, how far he can go, while continuing to retain a massive fanbase. Call him the Rap Game Donald Trump.
But it seems there is more to fame for the rapper than attention. He took a break from performing to bend down and touch his fans, and shout out all the artists and creators out there. He talked about artistic inspiration and his creative process. West sees them as one and the same.
“Art takes time,” he told the crowd. He spoke of his friend, an artist who designed posters for the Yeezus tour, who kept adding to a canvas until it was completely white, but you could see all the layers underneath.
Kanye is more into color. The light effects deserve an article by themselves. Laser beams and colored spotlights hanging from ceiling platforms, red, yellow and orange, ruled the latter part of the show, no more so than during “Wolves.”
“Wolves” was threaded throughout almost the entire concert. The eerie vocals from the beginning of the song played on the speakers before West came out, then multiple times during the show before he finally performed it. The song felt like a defining moment of the show, and nothing seems more fitting than hearing him rap about Mary and Joseph in the club. Except for hearing him rap about himself.
Kanye West has found greater faith through fame. It was hard not to sense this, especially on the show’s closer, “Ultralight Beam.” When he sang, “This is a God dream/ This is everything,” the crowd could hear his sincerity shine through more so live than in the recording.
At the end of the song, one of the larger platforms slanted down toward the floor like a ramp. Kanye West descended to Earth and walked offstage to deafening applause, the sound of his personal gospel.
