The Lost Lyrics to I Am A God
During the recording of Yeezus Kanye, on multiple occasions, scrapped his lyrics entirely and rewrote them from scratch. Many of these lyrics have been lost to time. However, I have recently uncovered this early version of the song “I Am a God” which was written in response to a slight at Paris Fashion Week. As you can see in these early lyrics, Kanye was much more critical of France and French culture when he initially penned the song. This sentiment was tempered in latter versions.
An interesting note, the last line referencing Jane Birkin was cut from the final version, likely because of a similar line in Jay Z’s Somewhereinamerica, which was released on “Magna Carta…Holy Grail” two weeks after Yeezus.
Jones Beach, Long Island from NYMag - (Photo: Robert F. Sisson/National Geographic/Getty Images)
On my birthday to to list was the task of writing a poem about Long Island that wasn’t too snarky. I move to the city tomorrow so here is my farewell.
The potato fields have been salted
Rum Runners drunk and stumbling west for the night
Shouting at each other on the way to the game
LIRR lurching them onward to the rat tunnels
Little screens filled with fruit and flashing messages
Try to capture their energy
But their voices overwhelm
Breach the sandbags on the southern shore
And wash away tract after identical tract
Sadness can not be duplicated
It is a snowflake emotion
If you put two lachrymose girls heading home from a club under a microscope
You will find an entire universe contained within
And likely be arrested for your efforts
They burned Giordano Bruno at the stake
But then again, they were starved for entertainment
And we have two of every kind of team known to man.
Every great novel is a mystery novel. At their core they have some fundamental question that needs to be answered which drives the narrative. Whether it’s as simple as the disappearance of a girl or as complex as the disappearance of God, it is our need to know and the authors ability to ask that makes literature rise above dross. One way to study books is to try to determine what question the book is asking and how it is asking that question.
We spend our lives forgetting about air. We move through it and let it pass over us without a second thought. It is only in extremes that we can see air as an object; when it is filled and when it is absent.
I hate the heat. Especially when it’s humid. I sweat, I get dehydrated and I want to collapse into a ball and lay still until it’s gone. Heat waves, especially the northeaster moisture rich variety are the worst. The natural world feels like a prison trying to keep you inside and punish you for emerging.
But there is one great thing about heat waves. They make your recognize the air. It is unavoidable. You feel it. You remember that it has density, mass, volume. It is not just background, it takes up space and you exist in that space. It moves and flows and acts like a fluid traveling in parcels throughout the planet. When it is oppressively hot out your body may not be happy, but if you try, you can teach yourself to enjoy the novelty of recognizing what air really is. You can write about hot air, you can not write about pleasant air. So yes, it is terribly disgusting out, but it is also pretty amazing. Enjoy the rest of the heat wave and drink plenty of water. Minds don’t work without bodies. Not yet at least.