West’s albums since Late Registration have been marked by late-stage changes to their production, which usually means added layers and flourishes, with new, fuller instrumentation. (The notable exception is Yeezus, which was radically pared down at the 11th hour with the help of Rick Rubin.) This makes it hard to game out just how closely these songs resemble the finished versions West has in his head. Either way, the production suits him well: the warmth that drives most of the songs here, and especially the use of organs, is a texture that has suited him well this decade (see “Only One”). The “New Body” beat in particular, which is built on a pan flute and relentless bounce, would slot comfortably into rap radio now or in 2004, suggesting a sort of faux-adult, toned-down debauchery.

Given West’s history, it’s unlikely that many of these songs will ever see commercial release. Those invested in his success can take comfort in the way they cast ye as an unfortunate valley rather than total creative burnout. But Yandhi fits into the larger pattern of West responding to leaks by refining, correcting, or reframing his work. He’s been able to do this partly through the sheer power he has –– the celebrity, the money, the time, the co-writers and -producers –– but also because he’s proven to be a shrewd self-editor with (usually) impressive foresight. In 2003 his debut album, The College Dropout, leaked months ahead of its street date. This leak, like some of the ones he would suffer later, was the kind that could derail an artist’s career, maybe permanently.

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But West used the opportunity to pare down his image: he ditched songs that cast him as a meaner, street-adjacent rapper and repositioned himself fully on that Benz/backpack axis he loved to rap about. For years afterward, critics pointed to Dropout as the blueprint for a new mold of commercial rap star, the product of an artist being thoroughly and unapologetically himself. The truth, of course, is that the self of Dropout is a smartly constructed one. (In 2014, in an oral history for Billboard, the legendary Chicago producer No I.D. recalled an exchange with West from that period: "He was like, 'I figured it out...I'm going conscious with my music.’ In my mind, actually not even in my mind, I may have said, ’But you're not conscious how are you going to do that?’ He's like, ‘Nah trust me, this is going to be my direction. I know how I'm going to do it. I got it now. I figured it out.’”) These Yandhi leaks are not evidence of such a radical reinvention, nor are they likely to trigger one –– but they’re still a meaningful recalibration from a famous artist’s creative lowpoint, a bridge to whatever gaudy, expensive finishing touches are sure to come next.