This is not an all-encompassing, fleshed out take. This album dropped eight hours ago. Chill.

My only qualifications for writing this first impressions piece are (A) it's not a review and (B) I've been an unabashed Kanye stan since mayonnaise-colored Benz, I push Miracle Whips. I wrote this as an exercise to develop my own thoughts on the album. I don't think it worked.

Kanye's eighth self-titled(?) album, Ye, is a laser-focused, seven-track, 23-minute effort that in many ways diametrically opposes his last work, The Life of Pablo. Where that album often wandered aimlessly in terms of both tone and topic, Ye's singular focus seems to be his state of mind.

The proper contraction is it's, Ye. — The proper contraction is **it's**, Ye.

The album art, a backdrop of Wyoming scenery allegedly snapped moments before the listening party last night by Kanye himself, works. The quote itself, egregious misspelling aside, looks like Kanye's practicing his dad jokes. Still, the quote is clearly the focal point of the cover, so it must be important. Kanye, no master of subtext, is also no stranger to spelling out his intentions on an album cover (WHICH/ONE). I didn't have access to the cover when listening to the livestream of the album via the WAV app last night. Upon repeated listens, I've tried to reframe each track with Kanye's mental state in mind.

The Intro, I Thought About Killing You, is very explicitly the battle between the two halves of Ye's persona. It's a striking way to kick off the album, and props to Ye for being egomaniacal enough to convince us that he inherently loves himself more than anyone else.

Yikes seems at first like Kanye's reaction to his own antics. But the other Kanye gradually takes over throughout the song and, in the end, it's the Grammy's-ruining version that prevails. Eventually, it grows from cautionary tale to anthem. Ham-fisted ending aside, it works.

Tracks 3 and 4, All Mine and Wouldn't Leave, make for a well executed pairing. The duology of thought seems to stem from the reasons he appreciates his wife. The former is filled with raunchy, surface-area thoughts at the front, while the latter hides a deeper appreciation underneath. Ty Dolla $ign offers meaningful contributions to both, as well as Jeremih and PARTYNEXT DOOR on Wouldn't Leave. They're well-placed features, but the true stars are top-level cornball lines from Kanye like: "I love your titties 'cause they prove that I can focus on two things at once."

I'll admit I can't make heads or tails of the next track, No Mistakes. Genius annonators seem to think this whole record is a Drake diss, but I'm not sold. I am sold on that Slick Rick sample that underscores the whole thing.

Track 6, Ghost Town, is my favorite song from Ye by a considerable margin. Cudi's refrain:

I've been tryin' to make you love me/

But everything I try just takes you further from me/

has about 11 different meanings. It could be Cudi's own apology for his end of things in the Cudi-Kanye beef of yesteryear. It could be another reference to Kanye's two halves tryign to reconcile their differences. Or it could represent Kanye's (and Cudi's, for that matter) constant efforts to win back the adoration of the masses. GOOD Music signee 070 Shake deserves every Google hit she gets today for her feature on the outro.

Props to Reddit user u/O-4 for the cool unofficial album cover.

The theme of childhood, the Cudi feature, the song title and the tracklist tweet from Kanye a few weeks ago would indicate that Ghost Town was originally a part of Kids See Ghost, the collaborative Kanye and Cudi project slated for our third consecutive GOOD Friday next week.

The closer, Violent Crimes, is transparently about the sudden fear that overcomes men when they become fathers to young daughters. The whole thing reminds me of these bars from Late Registration's We Major:

Feeling better than some head on a Sunday afternoon/

Better than a chick that say yes too soon/

Until you have a daughter, that's what I call karma/

And you pray to God that she don't grow breasts too soon/

It's a sweet and self-aware note on which to end the album. There's something quietly endearing about Kanye facetiously praying that his daughter inherits his figure instead of her mom's. I also like Nicki Minaj's voice being the last thing we hear on the album, much like how she was the first we heard on My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy.

And that's that. It's a brisk listen, and a notably conducive one for repeat spins. I suspect I'll have to listen to this at least a dozen more times before I finally figure out where I come down on it. At the very least, if The Life of Pablo was any indication, I'm looking forward to all of the free DLC.