my camera, everything. So that was
the motivation.”
When he got to New York, he found
that West’s star wasn’t rising as fast as
expected. Roc-A-Fella, the label co-
founded by Jay-Z, wanted West’s beats
for other artists, but wasn’t convinced
by him as a rapper. Rawkus Records
(home of “conscious” rappers such as
Mos Def and Talib Kweli) took an inter-
est, but never offered a deal. However
obvious West’s talent, he didn’t quite
fit anywhere. With an English teacher
mother and a preppy style, he wasn’t
seen as “street” — in footage from his
early New York years, he complains
about people thinking he grew up in
the suburbs.
His lyrics were incisive about
consumerism and racism, but he was
unashamed about his commercial
aspirations. “I might be living your
American dream,” he tells the cam-
era, “but I’m nowhere near where my
dream is. Before I had my car, I used
to be walking to the train practising
my Grammys speech.”
Those tensions are part of what
makes West great (All Falls Down, one
of the songs the documentary cap-
tures during its development, skewers
a “single black female addicted to
retail” among its characters, but ends
with West admitting “I went to Jacob
[& Co, jewellers] with 25 thou/ Before
I had a house”). In the early Nough-
ties, though, his contradictions
seemed to be holding him back.
Even when Roc-A-Fella did eventu-
ally sign him, it was more interested in
using him as a producer than support-
ing him as an artist in his own right.
Did West have moments of despair in
this period? “No. He knew he was a
superstar when he moved to New
York. He didn’t have one bit of doubt.
We was all just moving in faith,”
Coodie says.
That faith proved crucial when, in
2002, West had a car crash that left
him with broken legs and a shattered
jaw. For most rappers, it would have
been a career-ender. For West, it was
the inspiration for his breakthrough.
Through the Wire, his debut single,
references the wires that held his
damaged face together. West’s rap-Coodie says. “All my perspective on
the man is what you see on camera.”
That means Jeen-Yuhs is also tanta-
lisingly light on insight into West’s
relationship with Kim Kardashian.
(They began dating in 2012, married
in 2014, have four children together,
and officially separated in 2021.) She
appears only briefly, alongside her
mother and sisters, at a launch event
for his 2016 album The Life of Pablo.
“I guarantee if Coodie was docu-
menting the Kardashians, you would
see a very different side than you do
now. And it would be very interest-
ing,” Chike says, but neither will be
drawn any further on the subject.
At times when his relationship with
West was more remote, Coodie was
left to watch his old friend go through
traumatic events — including hospitali-
sation for a “psychiatric emergency”
in 2016 — via the media. Does he ever
worry about West? “I worry about him.
I worry. But my thing when it comes
to worry is, I realise that God got us.”
In recent years West, Coodie and
Chike have been back on close terms.
What does the public get wrong about
this superstar who is also their friend?
“People got to understand, if they
misunderstand, that Kanye’s a real
person,” Coodie says. “He’s not the
magical superhero, he’s not an actor.
He’s a real actual person with a lot of
eyes on him.”
This documentary doesn’t try to
answer the question of who West is,
but it does something more insightful.
It shows him as a full, complicated
human and artist, rather than a celeb-
rity caricature. “I don’t know what it’s
like to be a superstar, you know?”
Chike says. “And I think we have to
have empathy for that 1 per cent or
0.5 per cent of people that make it to
that level. I don’t know what that does
to you psychologically.”
To Coodie and Chike, Jeen-Yuhs isn’t
just a film about West — it’s a film about
genius. Faith in his genius worked for
West, and it’s the kind of faith you
probably need if you’re going to bring
a 25-year project finally to the screen.
“Everybody has a genius,” Coodie
says. “If you move in your genius, you
can make it happen.” cping is slowed down by the injuries
he’s rapping about. (In the film, we see
Pharrell Williams of the Neptunes hear
the track for the first time, and his face
lights up with delight.)
With no marketing budget from the
label, Coodie made the video for
Through the Wire, in collaboration with
Chike, who was then working at MTV.
The package convinced Roc-A-Fella to
give him its full backing, and West’s
debut album (The College Dropout)
went on to go quadruple platinum and
win the Grammy for best rap album.
Although West would work with
Coodie and Chike repeatedly, his suc-
cess led to distance between them.
West’s mother, Donda, helped to sus-
tain the relationship.
“His mom kept me around a lot, you
know. She actually gifted me a camera.
She would have me come around, like
over Christmas, and then I’d document
things for her,” Coodie says. When
Donda died in November 2007 aged
58, as a result of complications from
plastic surgery, Coodie made the video
for her memorial.
West was 30 when Donda died and
it seems to have been shattering for
him. It precipitated a shift to more
experimental, introspective music; his
previous two albums are named after
her. It also seems to have marked an
escalation in erratic behaviour —
although he continued to be prolific
musically, while branching out into
fashion ventures.
“I think we underestimate the
impact that [losing his mother] had
and continues to have on him,” Chike
says.
The documentary, though, doesn’t
speculate deeply on West’s grief. “One
thing we were sure to pay attention to
when we did this documentary was not
to put any words in
Kanye’s mouth,”He knew he was a
superstar — he didn’t
have a moment’s doubt
JULIA FOX
AND KANYE — HIS
NEW MUSE?
KANYE AND
TRUMP –
AN UNLIKELY
ALLIANCE
TAYLOR HILL/GETTY IMAGES. INSETS: JOHNNY NUNEZ, JACOPO RAULE, RICHARD HARTOG, ANDREW HARRER/GETTY IMAGES, RICHARD YOUNG/SHUTTERSTOCKKANYE AND
DONDA —
DEVOTED TO HIS
MOTHER