It’s not like Kanye West was ever really at home in hip hop. Rappers tacked him on as a producer—that’s the guy that stands on the other side of the glass—and he tempered his emcee dreams with a troupe of more accomplished artists. His own vocal contribution to his first two albums was a product of the distance he felt from his peers—he didn’t have the cred to be a G, let alone the stylings, so he approached hip hop talking points like a well-meaning fan who failed to be oblivious to their flaws. That made him funny. But he struggled with his chosen lifestyle’s willful disobedience towards the Christian morality he credited with saving his life. That made him interesting, too.

Late Registration was a great work by a genius. 808s and Heartbreak is genius work by an artist whose major gift is the drive afforded by his pop fanaticism (and the beats, I know). Wiser now, he’s conceptualized his acknowledgment of the barren other side of the good life, and while he isn’t ready to go back home, he’s discovered it’s the artistic satisfaction that makes it worthwhile. Unlike Justin Timberlake, or Michael Jackson for that matter, his vision is singular for the duration of the creative process. He’s even forgone the samples. In coming to terms with the distance between hip hop and his idea of hip hop, he’s embraced the spiritual confines of being a solo artist. As such, his purpose has been reconstituted to reflect his purported isolation.

808s is about a girl if you want to believe it, and his late mother, and his self-conviction; in short, a metallic pop record that utilizes music’s primal version of self-expression in ways nobody’s ever thought of. He surpasses JT on his quest to be like Mike, but comparisons shortchange the breadth of his accomplishment. Just understand that we’ve never seen an album quite like this before. From him or anybody.