Great choice.
His Painess and Little Little Wayne, whose jeans probably wouldn't have held up for another performance, were pretty much spent after mopping the floor with the best VMA performance of the night.
West, looking dapper as ever, closed the show outside, and as soon as the unregistering beat built, West turned to the crowd revealing only himself and his makeshift beating heart.
When the chorus kicked in, a Ewok like drumline was revealed, and West's autotuned singing proved a bit dry (he's no R. Kelly on the love lyrics), but dammit he did his darnest to give someone a black Radiohead, or at least Morrisey.
I garuntee you'll listen to this again.
And again.
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