The Life of Pablo (GOOD Music/Def Jam Records) begins with promise. “Ultralight Beam” ekes itself into existence as a minimal and soulful monologue, but Kanye is soon joined by a nine-person chorus, Kelly Price, The Dream, Kirk Franklin, and Chance the Rapper. Chance’s exuberant personality and Franklin’s prayer both manage to briefly lift the song out of its solipsism, but the effect doesn’t last. We’re about to crash head-first into one of Kanye’s most craven lyrics ever. It involves the words “model,” “bleach,” and “asshole,” but Kanye’s mostly worried about his t-shirt.

It’s an indicative juxtaposition. Kanye is honest as ever throughout the record, but as with the fate of the first track, there’s no hint that these revelations have any lasting effect. That’s in keeping with Kanye’s method on this record, which is loaded with brilliant, half-realized moments. The front-half of the album is a collage of amazing hooks that rarely coalesce into something greater. On “Highlights,” The Dream (or it might be El DeBarge) sings, “We only makin’ the highlights,” and that’s exactly what the album sounds like: Kanye saved his favorite bars from 40 different tracks and put them in order with no transitions. What does the first half of “Famous” have to do with the second half? Maybe nothing. “Waves” initially has the epic feeling of something like “All of the Lights,” but the song just sits in stasis. It’s pretty and powerful, and it doesn’t go anywhere. Could this be intentional? Maybe this is his first post-Kanye record. Right now, I can’t decide if it’s more confused or confusing.

The second half of the album seems like a turn for the better since it starts out with “FML,” Real Friends,” and “Wolves,” all of which are excellent and complete songs, epitomizing a dim outlook with their queasy synthesizers. “No More Parties in LA” might be considered the best the album has to offer, but it’s traditionalism is so out-of-place it almost feels like a mistake. Madlib’s complex and organic production work (not to mention Kendrick Lamar dropping the best verses on the album) has the effect of making the final tracks (“Facts” and “Fade”) seem exactly as blockheaded as they are.

The Life of Pablo is a comprehensive demonstration of Kanye’s genius: his technical skills, his ear for melody and sound design, and his ability to make irresistible hooks from the crudest of elements. Moment to moment it’s compulsively listenable ear candy, and it’s difficult to decide which phenomenal instant is the most pleasurable. As an album, though, it’s far and away Kanye’s worst to date.