What is Kanye thinking? That thought simultaneously passed through the heads of fans everywhere on September 7, 2008. That date marks the first Mr. West performed the slightly gimmick-heavy "Love Lockdown," the single that changed perspectives of the famed rapper and producer. The song is a new look for Kanye; it is almost spoken-word, with auto-tune effects, sparse instrumentation and repetition abound. "Love Lockdown" was received half-heartedly by even the fans who heard it, and after Kanye added Japanese taiko drums for interest, it still seemed to separate those who simply worshipped him from those who erected statues in his honor. Most gave up hope on him once they found out that the style of "Love Lockdown" was the guiding light for his new break-up album 808s & Heartbreak.

Over two months after that song premiered, defying all odds, Kanye West has released a masterpiece-a puzzling masterpiece whose simplicity and sincerity is bound to turn away as many as it will attract. Kanye inputted Top 40 accessibility with rap expressivity, and what comes out of 808s and Heartbreak is a foggy-sounding, rough-edged pop pastiche that will defy all who oppose it. This isn't rap or hip-hop anymore; like "Love Lockdown," it is bioengineered popular music that's closer to Michael Jackson than it is to Jay-Z.

The comparison isn't so strange, actually: Though West never named the former pop king as his muse, he has sampled him in the past, and on this album, he pays homage to him almost directly in the cut "Paranoid." The song takes an early '80s Jackson and places him in the new millennium with an electronic pulse in the background and bursts of synth effects that, when coupled with a simplistic backbeat, become the most addictive part of the work; "Coldest Winter" and "Street Lights" follow suit melodically in a less-endearing fashion. Other songs use the pop spirit rather than the sound, especially the Lil Wayne-assisted "See You in My Nightmares." It's the most furious song on the album, complete with an epic synth loop and full-on auto-tune effects for both Kanye's smooth vocals and Lil Wayne's gravelly voice.

The melodies front much of 808s and Heartbreak, but the album truly serves as a testament to West's ability as a producer. Songs like the moving electro-orchestral "Robocop" and piano-driven "Welcome to Heartbreak" are instrumental marvels with astonishing intricacy. Other times, simplicity is the key: "Say You Will" features a cold, repetitious beat and gothic harmonies, and "Heartless" finds its emotional strength in a simple flute sample that plays constantly. The only song that doesn't hold up instrumentally is the cathartic live freestyle "Pinocchio Story," which is inelegantly tacked on to the end. No record is perfect, and this one is not either; were it not for Beyonce requesting Kanye to include this song, this album could have come dangerously close.

Of course, this review will be the exception, not the rule. Most critics and casual fans will find this album good but not spectacular. They will complain about auto-tune and 808 drums being overused, an argument that fails to mention the way West uses them to create a somber mood not matched by any other album. More will say that Kanye is a rapper, not a pop artist, and he is doing the musical equivalent of what Michael Jordan did in the mid-'90s when he decided to play baseball. But while Jordan's basketball expertise did not translate well at the plate, Kanye has just hit a homerun. Because of his background, he has done something that few could have done and, at the risk of his credibility, attempted something that no rapper would have the confidence to attempt. Whether that self-belief came from an oversized ego or blind faith doesn't matter; this album is one for the records.