Kanye West hip-hop's new big shot: talks about his next surprising moves and why marriage is the key to life

Ebony, April, 2005 by Kimberly Davis

BETWEEN heaven and earth, nerds and gangstas, frailty and faith, and sin and grace--somewhere in the mix--lies Kanye West.

At 27 years old, the Chicago-bred quadruple threat (producer/rapper/songwriter/record exec) has somehow figured out a way to make millions from humanity's contradictions and the juxtaposition of the moneyed mainstream and the avant-garde nature of hip-hop--an amalgamation of the street hustler's credo and the Black Protestant ethos.

With his debut CD, The College Dropout, having sold 2.6 million copies, and having produced or written hits for Jay-Z, Alicia Keys, Usher, Twista and Brandy, West has, in a remarkably short time, become one of the most celebrated names in the music industry, and one of the hottest rappers in the business, offering further evidence of hip-hop's increasing influence on American culture. His sophomore album (the second in what he conceives as a four-disc set), Late Registration, is due out by early summer.

"The best thing [about the success] is being able to get my creative ideas out," West says from Los Angeles, on his way to a fitting for the 47th Annual Grammy Awards, where he took home three awards and gave a show-stopping performance. "That's why I rap in the first place--so my voice can be heard."

With soulful beats, thought-provoking rhymes and a stirring musicality, West crafted a freshman disc that critics said filled a void in hip-hop--occupying the gap between the "hard-knock life" espoused by rappers such as Def Jam President and CEO Jay-Z, from whom Kanye got his biggest break by producing tracks on The Blueprint, and the you-gotta-be-down consciousness of performers like Common, whose next disc, Be, is set to launch this spring from West's own Getting Out Our Dreams (G.O.O.D.) label.

"A major part of Kanye's success is, of course, his talent," says "hip-hop violinist" Miri Ben-Ari, who worked extensively with West on Dropout. He has a vision for things, for example, to bring live instrumentalists back to the game and create music like they did back in the day. Kanye is very open to new things; he is not afraid to think differently, to take a chance and to say his thoughts out loud."

Saying his thoughts out loud has sometimes gotten West into trouble. Dropout was one of the best-reviewed albums of the year, but there was a reluctance to declare it a "classic," which burned West to no end. It wasn't completely OK to like Kanye, it seemed. Even he admits that he's not the best rapper or programmer, but he just knew that his album was the best. And he told everyone.

Turns out he was right, on several levels. The disc charted multiple hit singles, and Kanye, who some whispered or hollered was a legend in his own mind, created what has come to be known by many as one of the greatest hip-hop albums of all time.

This past summer, when the spiritual/rap anthem "Jesus Walks" hit radio and the three (yes, three) videos for the song hit MTV, West really blew up. They said he had made a space for God in hip-hop. Is he really a Christian, people wondered? Why is he mixing God and sex on the same album? Practically everybody wanted to know.

The buzz was buzzing, and by the end of the year, some critics forgot their previously warm responses and declared the West brand sizzling.

"If Kanye West never makes another album, or another beat, he has already secured a place in the history of hip-hop for producing one of the greatest, most innovative hip-hop albums in recent times," says Michael Eric Dyson, University of Pennsylvania professor and author of Holler If You Hear Me: Searching for Tupac Shakur. "College Dropout fuses two seemingly disparate communities within hip-hop ... In essence, he's appealed simultaneously to both the most commercial elements of hip-hop and its most socially and spiritually sensitive side as well."

To those who called him boastful and pride-filled, West offers a tongue-in-cheek mea culpa. "I really believed in myself," West says. "And you know, I want to just apologize to everybody out there who says I'm arrogant. I apologize to everybody for believing in myself."

So far, that belief has served him well. Kanye, who now has homes on both coasts, says that he's not really serious when he says "I-told-you-so" to all the doubters; he's just "having fun.

At the same time, though, West acknowledges how intensely personal his first disc is because of what happened dung the recording of it. It was October 2002 and Damon Dash had signed him to Roc-A-Fella. Driving his Lexus back to the hotel after a late night in the studio, West fell asleep and remembers waking up to a steering wheel coming at his face and being in excruciating pain. The near-fatal car crash broke his jaw in three places.

Throughout his recovery, during which reconstructive surgery left his jaw wired shut, working on Dropout helped get him through. It saved him, just as God had saved him. And if someone comes along and criticizes a part of you that means so much, he says, you're bound to get a bit defensive.