Nearly two weeks ago Yeat dropped AftërLyfe. I didn't like it. It felt boring and uninspired and all kind of the same.
The week after, a friend asked if I'd listened to it, saying they loved it and emphasizing how expressive they thought it was. I listened to it again with a new lens and started to really like it.
Listen to this from just a couple seconds into the album. I'm sure it's polarizing, but I think it'd be difficult to argue his wailing is anything other than expressive. I see it as a development of modern adlibs and using the voice as an instrument and think it'll someday be loved the way Kid Cudi's moaning is. There's a lot of good tracks on the album, but my favourite is by far the closer.
I loved Mysëlf. I think there's something about songs with a complete disregard for traditional structure that I really enjoy. It makes it so easy to get lost in the music; as dramatic as it sounds, I think I feel this song more than I listen to it. I've had it on repeat recently and still barely know how it goes.
I've spent a lot of time over the last few years wondering how seriously art should be analyzed. Should I consider a Yeat song as deeply as I do one by Kendrick Lamar? Or a painting by Edward Hopper? I could spend a lot of time on this. I used to semi-jokingly prescribe meaning to songs and albums that probably had very little thought behind them for fun. I remember when I heard my university's faculty had a newspaper anyone could submit articles to I considered sending a critical analysis of Canadian Goose by Lil Uzi Vert. For now I've decided anything should mean as much as we want it to, and the meaning of art is more up to the viewer than in the hands of the creator. I never took Yeat very seriously, but this song has changed that.
I'm not sure what it's called when artists do this, but I really love when a line can be heard in multiple ways, like a homonym on the scale of a phrase. Doing so usually precludes clarity of the vocals and requires an open mind to consider, so it's rare for me to pick up on it, but there's a few instances I think it's done here (again, they could just be coincidental, but if I can derive meaning from it than why stop myself).
It's hard to describe where the lyrics are with Yeat: that lack of structure I mentioned really blurs the lines between adlibs, verses, hooks, etc. But there's one remark found throughout the track that really drove my fascination. Listen to this.
When I first heard it, I thought he was saying "I'm in love with myself". It wasn't until seeing Spotify's lyrics that I considered the possibility of it being "And I live with myself". At first I thought this was a grateful and celebratory song to end the album with, supported by the self-indulgent opening verse. But there's a clear switch after he says "Every time I said something I was feeling like being strong". I really didn't expect this level of introspection from Yeat, but after acknowledging covering his insecurity with fake confidence, he closes with lines like "These days I'm in my hell" and "I don't know how to feel", before a droning "[And I live]/[I'm in love] with myself" repeated three last times brings the album to a close.
I think both versions of the line are applicable. There are a few other instances of this here and I wish I could go line by line cause pretty much every bar has something I find significant.
This song is reminiscent of Some Rap Songs to me. Free-flowing, muddled, candid, and dense. It feels weird comparing Yeat and Earl Sweatshirt, but the depth on Mysëlf really surprised me. Despite lyrics that are simple on their own, they come together for some really interesting development, starting with confidence, leading into doubt, and ending with feeling lost. It really is amazing how much emotion this packs into 2 minutes and 30 seconds for me.