Let’s begin with the indisputable: Kanye West is the greatest album producing artist in hip-hop history, and The Life of Pablo stretches his illustrious run to seven straight without a blemish.

The Life of Pablo is not a bold left turn from the Kanye sound we had come to know like its predecessor, Yeezus. It doesn’t exclaim the magnificent Kanye stadium anthems like that of Graduation. Unlike 808s & Heartbreak, it will not stimulate any New Kanyes. It will not top “Best of the Decade” lists like the renowned My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. It truly serves as another testament to the reality that no two Kanye projects are one in the same.

It’s all there for TLOP, rest assured: The glory of “Ultralight Beam”; the gnawing mo money mo problems self-loathing of “Real Friends” (“I’m a deadbeat cousin, I hate family reunions”); the sardonic wit of “I Love Kanye” with its message for West’s trapped-in-the-2000’s fans; and the anarchy of “Feedback,” where he declares, “Name one genius that ain’t crazy.” Never has West appeared as transcendent and otherworldly as on his latest venture.

The Louis Vuitton Don is still, however, the same ole Kanye: clever, insecure, ambitious, and chock full of contradictions. He is both sympathetic, in the verses of “Father Stretch My Hands, Pt. 2” and pompous, most notably throughout the bars of “Famous” and “30 Hours”. He is a paranoid father-protector on the haunting verses of “Wolves.” He is also not afraid to let you know that he is still living the life, in nothing short of the most Kanye fashion possible, as told through the bars of “No  More Parties in L.A.”

The production, nothing short of expectations for a Kanye project, is truly magnificent. TLOP features elements of gospel, trap, and, yes, soul; Nina, Drake’s uncle, Whodini, and “Bam Bam” are all sampled by Ye. And like each Kanye West solo album before it, TLOP is a collaborative effort, this time featuring a battalion of appearances; André 3000, Young Thug, Rihanna, Desiigner, Frank Ocean, The Weeknd, Kendrick Lamar, a call from Max B, and a star-making turn from Chance the Rapper.

Five, 10, 15, 20 years from now when The Life of Pablo is feted with anniversary pieces, the media will want the focus to be on the nonsense: the clumsy roll-out, the fitting cameo from pharma Gollum Martin Shkreli, Tidal’s latest gaffe, and the Taylor Swift diss. When in reality, it should be remembered for the beauty of “Waves” or the nifty “No More Parties in L.A.,” which features West’s most impressive bars in years.

We should remember the Madison Square Garden premiere of Yeezy Season 3—a landmark event no matter your opinion on the clothes—and a joyous Saturday Night Live performance. But we all know that society’s view on Mr. West carries a negative connotation with today’s media correspondents and headline makers.

In fact, among all of Kanye’s  controversy and other business ventures, the question is always asked: Does the music even matter anymore when it comes to Kanye West?

At this point in his career, fair or not, West is defined by the tirades and the petty feuds. He is famous for being infamous: “the abomination of Obama’s nation” as he once stated.

It may be easy today to condemned Kanye’s work today because of a multitude of outside issues, but never forget this, “Judge the art only for the contents within, not for the extraneous actions of the artist.”

You can hate Kanye West the individual for any and all of the reasons you want, but nobody can hate Kanye West the music producer. He has triumphed, influenced, and changed not only hip hop, but music today too much to be denounced.