It's not just that he wants the world, it's that he wants it RIGHT NOW. He's like a ballplayer who declares he's ready for the Hall of Fame before halftime of his first game. But the thing is, the opening stretch of West's career has been pretty spectacular -- and never more so than with his "Glow in the Dark Tour," which played Time Warner Cable Music Pavilion at Walnut Creek on Friday night.

Never one to make it easy on himself, West loaded up the bill with three choice opening acts. Well, two choice acts, anyway. Opener Lupe Fiasco showed off his typically slick flow, but the early start time (6:15 p.m.), bright evening daylight and late-arriving crowd made for a low-energy set. Only his closing number, "Superstar," got the crowd going.

No such problems with second act N*E*R*D, superstar producer Pharrell Williams' band. Employing two drummers, crushing bass and slam-bang guitar, N*E*R*D came across as George Clinton's P-Funk All-Stars turned up to 11. It was a wickedly fun half-hour, especially when he brought a bunch of women from the crowd onstage to dance at the end.

Here's what I can tell you about penultimate act Rhianna: She's cut like an aerobics instructor; she has all the onstage presence of a grape; and whoever does her live sound is either deaf or loves bass, because it was the worst sound mix I've ever heard (seriously). The lower-end shock waves completely swallowed up her voice, which might have been putting on a vocal display worthy of Pavarotti for all anyone could hear. There was no telling, because Aretha Franklin herself could not have cut through this much aural sludge.

Finally, the lights went down and the headline act began. Calling West's performance a mere "concert" seems somehow inadequate, even though he was the only person visible during his 90-minute set (his band played from beneath the stage). It was more like a dramatic multimedia recital, stitching songs from West's three albums into a conceptual science-fiction pastiche. While it might not have held together narratively, it was dazzling to watch.

Whatever futuristic alienation Radiohead put down over in Charlotte Friday night could not have held a candle to this. The story began with West's spaceship (named "Jane") crash-landing on an uncharted planet. Marooned in space, he began a dark journey through the soul in which only West himself -- "the brightest star in the universe" -- was capable of providing his own redemption.

Narcissistic? Vainglorious? Laughably pompous? Yes, yes and yes. But also pretty amazing. Lights, shadows, flames, smoke, fog and video screens of exploding stars and colors were craftily deployed, creating a series of alien environments for West to traverse as he held forth.

At one point, West pined for female companionship. So his spaceship Jane came to his rescue, morphing into a slinky "Star Trek"-style vixen on a video screen -- the perfect backdrop for "Gold Digger," the best song of the set. He hit most of the other high points from his three albums, particularly "Jesus Walks," "Can't Tell Me Nothing" and "Flashing Lights."

But less than any of his songs, West himself was the star of his own drama. He seems like he's onto himself, which doesn't mean he can help it. At the point in the storyline where he started praying to the almighty, he sent up this shout-out: "God, if you get me off this planet, I promise to change my ways. I promise to stop talking [expletive]. And I promise to stop spazzing out at awards shows."

Eventually, West just might turn out to be as good as he thinks he is. He's not there yet, but I don't think I'd bet against him.