VULTURES 2 opens with a staggering wall of sound that resembles THX’s Deep Note. Dr. Dre’s 2001 famously opens with the same sonic logo, using it to establish the cinematic scope of the album’s slick, muscular G-funk. “Everything you hear is planned. It’s a movie,” Dre told The New York Times in 1999. With its exquisitely arranged melodies and drums, 2001 was immersive and detailed, like cruising through Southern California in the Discovery One. Listening to VULTURES 2, the sequel to Ye and Ty Dolla $ign’s surprisingly coherent collab from February, is more akin to being imprisoned inside an Akademiks livestream. There is little noteworthy or thrilling happening in this strange, inert environment, despite the constant provocations and snippets of intrigue.
This isn’t surprising. Ye, who once said he got his “entire sound” from “Xxplosive,” hasn’t really focused on music for the past eight years. Though his army of collaborators occasionally uses his extensive resources to stitch together a distinct beat or galvanize say, Playboi Carti or Jay Electronica, to black out, Ye mostly uses songs to soundtrack his live events, be they fashion shows or listening sessions at stadiums. From the Madison Square Garden release party for The Life of Pablo to his Sunday Service series to the Donda shows, he’s increasingly oriented his work toward eyes rather than ears, a mode that favors diehard believers over discerning listeners. At this point, Ye is more of a ceremonial figurehead than a conductor.
VULTURES 2 acknowledges this diminished role, making it a sequel in the most modern Hollywood of ways. Were you partial to that swaggering Carti verse on “Carnival?” He’s back for “Field Trip.” Speaking of “Carnival,” those lurching stadium chants were pretty neat, yeah? “Fried” has you covered. Were you fond of the “Whip My Hair”-core kids bop of North West on “Talking?” She returns on “Bomb,” repeating Japanese greetings ad nauseam alongside her sister Chicago West. Do you miss the “old Kanye?” Peep the “Good Life” reference on “Time Moving Slow.” These two aren’t using songs to express themselves or explore sounds and themes; they’re more keen to prove they’re impervious to shame. “They tried to hit me with the cyanide/Nice try,” Ye taunts on “Slide.”
In its best moments, VULTURES 1 treated Ye like a lame duck. Although Ye’s rapping on VULTURES 1 was notably smoother compared to the poopy-di-scoop of his post-Pablo output, the songs seemed to consciously work around Ye’s deflated performances and edgelord antics, often keeping him—Cash Money-style—away from a given track’s first and last verses. Considering that, a generous reading is that VULTURES 1 was a Ty Dolla album with a Ye-sized budget. But in practice, the Hitler-loving provocateur remained in the middle, ringmaster to the cursed circus.