The One About Drake
I joke about this often, but I have genuinely always felt a particular kinship with Canadians. Having grown up in Buffalo, NY, which borders Southern Ontario, there was so much cultural crossover (and Tim Hortons) in that part of Upstate that most of us never even thought of Canada as another country. By way of marriage, I had Canadian relatives that stayed with my family off and on when I was growing up. Our annual school French trip was to Quebec, they served Poutine (my mom's favorite) at the Broadway Market, and my siblings and I had a modest, albeit worthless collection of Canadian currency that our parents would give us when it got mixed with their change from the store. (S/N: the Canadian dollar is currently valued at just slightly more than the USD, but I actually don’t remember what it would have been worth in the 90s.) Canadian news channels, commercials, and programming aired regularly on our television (to this day I still have the MarineLand jingle memorized). As a result, I grew up watching a lot of Degrassi. This wound up being important for 2 reasons. One, although the Degrassi cast was considerably diverse, the show was my primary frame of reference in terms of what to expect when I moved to Pittsburgh and attended a predominantly white high school, which I did not believe existed outside of television. The second reason, of course, is Drake.
The story of how I became a Drake fan actually begins with Kanye West, and the release of 808’s and Heartbreak. Considered one of the most influential albums of all time, it was a huge departure from Ye’s previous projects, one where he lamented the price of fame, navigated loss, and took us through his relationship struggles. 808’s vulnerability, rawness, and shift from Ye’s typical bravado gave way to a new era in rap, one where artists embraced experimental R&B, and adopted many of the stylistic elements of the album, including and especially its more emo undertones. It opens with Say You Will, a song about a man struggling to detach himself from his ex. It’s a mellow, haunting, and scaled-down ballad with synth-pop elements. The track is tinged with remorse and regret, and sets a definitive tone for the rest of the album. It is one of my favorite songs of all time, and I remember the way I felt the first time I heard it, because I still feel that way no matter how many times I listen to it. It affects you profoundly, from the lyrics to the production, and includes an unusual 3 minute extended outro that reinforces the depth of the composition. It’s this outro that gave way to a string of freestyles from rappers that included Big Sean, Wiz Khalifa, and a relatively unknown underground artist who had just released a mixtape titled So Far Gone.
The first time I heard Drake’s Say What’s Real, which samples Kanye, and sparked a war with him over clearance around the 10th anniversary of So Far Gone, (Ye eventually relented and gave the green light), I was in the beginning stages of the worst relationship of my life. More specifically, I was in bed with a man who was tied to an ex he was still sleeping with, and his refusal to commit to me was a constant point of contention between us. We did have some things in common; both of us were HUGE Hip-Hop fans, and this was peak mixtape era, so he was always playing me new music when I would come over. I did not pay much attention to what we were actually listening to on this day, at least not until I recognized the familiar operatic vocals for Say You Will. My interest was piqued; the previous freestyles I heard had been mildly entertaining, and I liked seeing how other artists approached taking on Ye’s caliber of production. When I heard the line ‘cause I just seen my ex-girl, standing with my next girl standing with the girl that I'm fuckin' right now’, I almost lost it. Not only did it parallel my situation with this man in a lot of ways, it was a great fucking verse. I asked him who this artist was. “It’s some guy who was on a show called Degrassi”. He showed me the cover of his previous mixtape, Comeback Season. WHEELCHAIR JIMMY??
It’s been said that Aubrey Graham is an actor, and his greatest role to date has been Drake. But I think that takes away from the fact that Drake truly is a deeply talented and gifted artist. Playing a role means you embody the character, but their talents are not your own. An actor could play a famous pianist, but no matter how many lessons he took, he would never have the same skill level as the person he’s portraying. I believe that Aubrey Graham is a perfectly nice man who has all the stereotypical Canadian sensibilities. We’ve seen him in interviews. He’s polite, charming, well spoken, even eloquent. He’s intentional. He respects others, especially women. There are no bad stories about Aubrey Graham, no skeletons in his closet. I am inclined to believe that Drake is actually a caricature of Aubrey, a physical manifestation of his ego, but certainly not an act. A good actor would know when to let go of the bit. He would recognize the curtain call. He would know that the accolades, the awards, the absolute record smashing was his cue to leave it all behind, and retire somewhere beautiful. So why doesn’t he? What is he trying to prove, and what will he lose in the process?
I am always wondering what motivates Drake, why he makes certain decisions, and what exactly it is he’s searching for. Me being a genuine fan of his is often at odds with how I feel about him personally, because he seems to be at odds with himself. I am also at odds with the entire idea of being a Drake fan, what it says about me, and the parallels we share that make me relate to him. He is a mess of contradictions, both lyrically and within his personal life. He’s the good guy who wants to be the bad guy, and vice versa; someone who is looking for a deep, authentic love, but doesn’t respect or trust women enough to foster genuine or long-lasting connections, which has (allegedly) led to a whopping 42 ‘previous engagements’. Similarly to Kanye, whom he has often spoken of in terms of influence, he has an air of bravado and confidence that’s rooted in deep insecurity, which is why, despite a number of accomplishments, including being the highest-certified digital singles artist ever in the United States, he is fueled by a desire to do more. This has resulted in a number of projects and collaborations that have amounted to very little in terms of impact or influence, and in fact have reinforced all of the negative ways in which Drake has come to be regarded. His benevolent sexism, misogyny, pettiness, and pattern of working with collaborators who are known abusers has garnered him a reputation that has alienated a large part of his female identifying fan base. Ultimately, this doesn't affect sales, but it may have a lasting impact on his legacy that he hasn’t anticipated. The college women who felt Best I Ever Had was made especially for them, the ones who made the “sweatpants, hair-tied” line iconic, and have been the tastemakers for most of what he’s put out, have outgrown his antics. There are no excuses for a man who continues to very publicly take shots at his exes, is emotionally manipulative, has accused Megan Thee Stallion of lying about being shot by Tory Lanez (5’3”) on a song, and has a penchant for throwing stones and then hiding his hand. I think there are a few things at play here. For one, Drake simply doesn’t have a good sense of self. He had a very privileged upbringing, but wants to play the underdog, because privilege has no place in Hip Hop, where the most highly respected and legendary artists quite literally got it out of the mud. It all reads as incredibly phony and inauthentic when he tries to relate to things he did not come up against. He was raised by a white mother, and despite leaning on “I spent summers with my Dad down South” he never had many of the same Black experiences as a lot of us. I think this is what fuels a lot of his experimentation with diasporic musical styles he simply has no connection to, his collaborations with certain artists, and the people he surrounds himself with most closely, like Baka Not Nice, who has the type of background and actual lived experiences Drake seems to idealize in his music. I don’t believe he is fully at ease with being bi-racial, and I have a theory that the reason he wasn’t more forthcoming about fathering a son has less to do with protection, and more to do with the fact that Adonis is a white-passing child with a non-Black mother. Drake also isn’t American, which creates a further disconnect in the way of having a traditional Black upbringing. He is successful beyond measure, and is currently one of the biggest hip hop artists in the world, but he continues to throw himself massive and decadent pity parties, which unfortunately positions him as a Tragic Mulatto figure, a man who, try as he might, doesn’t quite fit in anywhere. He is constantly looking for love but wouldn’t even be able to recognize it if he found it. He has created a Petty King persona, one rooted in revenge against both perceived and very real slights, the numerous women who got away, and the idea that no matter how much he’s accomplished, it’s never enough. It’s always been trendy to hate Drake, and whereas some of it was previously unfounded, he’s reached a point in his career where he appears to seek out static, and he has gone out of his way to create opps just to say he has opps. I don’t doubt he has self-awareness. He knows the things that are said about him, and if anything, he leans into them. This is evidenced by his very calculated IG posts, him continuously supplying meme-able content, and various other ploys at relevancy from someone who is already very relevant, has been for quite some time, and will likely remain so.
Drake is indisputably one of the greatest artists of all time. You don’t have to agree, but you cannot deny the stats. He has accomplished feats that more seasoned veterans simply could not have done in the era of streaming. The song of his you are most sick of hearing has charted higher and longer than anything your favorite artist has put out. I’ve been a fan for many years, and remain a fan despite how critical of him I am. He has a song for every mood, and I’ve partied to his music, even fallen in love to it, and he’s provided not only a soundtrack to many of my experiences, but a-lot of really good IG captions. At his absolute best, he represents the duality of us all, and how someone can be equally horrible, and absolutely brilliant at the same time. The ways I relate to him are both surface level and deep; the nuances of navigating a bi-racial identity, feeling as though your Blackness is never fully accepted, or acknowledged, being emotionally driven and fueled by a desire to prove people wrong. There’s also being predisposed to conflict, petty by nature, but with a deep need to be well liked and respected. There’s being surrounded by love, even revered in some ways, but always searching for something we may never find, and having a constant nagging sense of never being satisfied. Finally, there’s being a person who shares the deepest and most vulnerable parts of themself, but still having difficulty being able to connect with others, or be understood. I recognize these things about myself, and I do my best to acknowledge and work through them, because I know and understand where it all comes from. I want to be better. Drake is content with being Drake, and has no desire to be any different, because he doesn’t have to be, he’s Drake. He will continue to do some awful things, sell records, eat, sleep, and have sex better than most of the world's population, and die a rich man with an unquestionable legacy. I sincerely hope he finds whatever it is he’s looking for.
The Best Jay Z Albums, ranked.
A million people have already done this. It’s nothing new. I will not be taking questions or comments at this time.
Reasonable Doubt (to this DAY)
The Blueprint
Vol 2. Hard Knock Life
The Black Album
American Gangster
Watch The Throne (this is a collab album and Ye washed him on some of these tracks so thats why it isn’t top 5)
Vol 3. Life and Times of Shawn Carter
Unplugged (I never felt like this really counted as an album but here we are)
In My Lifetime Vol. 1 (not a favorite because it wasn’t a strong follow up to Reasonable Doubt and he never let Nas get away with shit like that so he needs to be checked)
The Dynasty Roc La Familia 2000
4:44 (This wasn’t for the die-hard day 1 Jay fans. It was a good project for “new Blacks” who aren’t really hip-hop fans, and people who refer to him as Beyonce’s Husband. I am interested in further exploring the visuals for this albums titular song, which was more of an experimental high-art short film than a music video. Maybe Jay had dinner with Arthur Jafa and was inspired?)
Magna Carta Holy Grail
The Blueprint 3 (Already Home is the only redeeming thing about this album. Empire State of Mind is one of the worst things that EVER happened to me. They played that shit in malls. I wanted to die)
The Blueprint 2: The Gift and The Curse (there are some amazing songs on here but a lot of them were unnecessary and bad. Enough tracks could have been eliminated that it could have been a solid single album)
Kingdom Come (I still cannot believe I waited outside of The Exchange for an album with Hollywood, Do U Wanna Ride, Minority Report, and Oh My God. I could have just copped the bootleg)
The Blueprint 2.1 (WTF)
Collision Course (This was Jay stumbling through his mainstream era and I felt it wasn’t needed. Good for you if you liked it)
Everything else
Honorable mention - The Grey Album. When The Black Album was released a capella it gave way for producers to create some interesting mash-ups, remixes, and experimental projects. Danger Mouse reconstructed both The Black Album and The Beatles’ White Album in order to create what functions as a really fucking cool art project that I’ve always been a fan of.
My Favorite Music Moments from Atlanta
I am still processing Atlanta, so I’m not quite ready to take a deep dive into what it meant for me, and for the culture. I have been thinking alot about the soundtrack, and the many carefully curated musical moments of the series. I truly appreciate the care and consideration that evidently went into choosing a particular song that conveys an emotion, sets a tone, and just fits really fucking well into a scene. These songs range from singles from popular current artists, to jazz, deep cuts, and everything in between. So here are some of my favorites:
Beach House “Space Song”
Season 1, Episode 4
The moment when this song was used was brief, but impactful. Earn is on Paper Boi’s couch sleeping, and as he comes to, it’s playing on his headphones. He opens his eyes to a gun laying on the table facing him. Upon my initial watch I wondered if it was some sort of foreshadowing, but looking back I think it was Earn being confronted with some vague notion of having to survive, having to get up and move on. At any rate, I loved everything about it.
The Ebony’s, “It’s Forever”
Season 1, Episode 6
The Ebony’s were a 70’s soul group from Philadelphia. Their original lineup included Jenny Holmes, David Beasley, James Tuten, and Clarence Vaughan. They achieved moderate popularity, and “It’s Forever,” released in 1973, is by far their most popular single. The song plays at the opening of this episode, when Van enters the restaurant to meet her friend, Jayde. Their conversation is full of judgment and microaggressions, and the rest of the episode is chaotic and hilarious and tense. This song serves as a moment of calm before all the messiness, and I dream of a day when I can eat at a nice restaurant with this classic on its playlist.
Crime Mob, “Knuck if you Buck”
Season 1, Episode 8
This song is probably Atlanta’s National Anthem. You can’t have an ATL club scene without it playing. It gave what it needed to give.
Kamasi Washington, "Change of the Guard"
Season 1, Episode 9
This is one of my absolute favorite episodes of the series. Van and Earn playing a married couple, the Awaken, My Love! album cover Easter egg, “Woke Craigs” uncomfortable obsession with African culture, and that God awful Jim Crow slam poetry scene. There were actually quite a few solid musical moments that included Sam Cookes “Chain Gang”, but Kamasi opens the episode in another brief (the full song is a good 12 minutes) but impactful moment. I was introduced to him on To Pimp A Butterfly, and as a fan of classic African American jazz, (not to brag, but I can distinguish Miles from Coltrane), I love that a lot of his music is a reference to the artists that came before him. It’s fresh, but it doesn't feel too modern.
The Delfonics , “Hey Love”
Season 2, Episode 1
To start, Kat Williams as Alligator Man/Earns Uncle Willie is PERFECT casting. He is hilarious, and steals every scene. (His response to Darius saying he doesn't believe in time as a concept was amazing comedic timing). The conversation between him and Earn when he tells him to get rid of the chip on his shoulder after their back and forth throughout the episode was a tender moment, as was Earn stealing the framed photo of his family from Willy’s house. This song playing as the alligator is finally revealed and saunters out of the house as the neighborhood looks on, is a stellar example of the way this series creates moments using particular songs. The sudden cutaway to Willy running away had me in tears. Kat really gave us a memorable performance in this episode. (Honorable mention: René & Angela’s “I'll Be Good” playing when Darius and Earn first get to Willy’s house because that’s the type of music my parents played on cleaning day and it just felt nostalgic.)
Jeezy ft. Bankroll Fresh “It’s All There”
Season 2, Episode 2
Another ATL classic. It plays after Paper Boi is very politely robbed by his weedman. “Hood nigga hot cheeto what i snack on” was my Facebook bio much longer than it needed to be.
Alice Coltrane “Turiya and Ramakrishna”
Season 2, Episode 8
This song is from Coltranes 1970 LP, Ptah, The El Daoud. It’s a really moving piece, and a beautiful testament to what a gifted pianist Coltrane is. The song plays during a solo moment with Alfred, which I grew to love as the series progressed; Atlanta gave him a lot of scenes to be quiet and introspective, and it worked well. I think moments like this really highlight how expressive of an actor Brian Tyree Henry is, and show a great deal of range and vulnerability.
21 Savage and Metro Boomin,“Runnin”
Season 3, Episode 3
This song doesn’t actually play, but it’s a part of a really funny scene in London when the group asks Will, an investor, which UK artists they should be listening to, and he mentions 21 Savage and starts rapping this song. It was definitely a reference to when Black Twitter discovered 21 was born in the UK, which was a day that will live in infamy. I’ll put those tweets up against a lot of other trending topics, including ‘Nigger Navy’ and the couple that wore plantation fits to a formal. (SN: Atlanta is not a show that’s known for pulling source material from social media, and I appreciate that when they do it’s low-key enough to not read as cringe. That was my biggest gripe with Insecure)
The Temprees, “Dedicated To The One I Love”
Season 3, Episode 5
Another absolutely perfect song to pair with another introspective moment for Alfred, after an extremely stressful and confusing episode. What was the point of him stealing the phone just to throw it away??
Ludacris “Splash Waterfalls”
Season 3 Episode 10
Ludacris isn't in a lot of people’s top 5, but when discussing Atlanta Hip Hop, he’s always worth the mention. He was one of the first Dirty South rappers to achieve mainstream success, and gave us a lot of indisputable classics. This episode was really important in the context of Vanessa’s character development. It was also full of a number of WTF moments, including her new friend's client with very specific proclivities, which we witnessed taking place at the very end, before the episode closes with this song. Very cheeky, Atlanta.
Fivio Foreign, Polo G, “Bop It”
Season 4, Episode 4
I have a fondness for Fivio, and I'm glad there was space for him in Atlanta. However, I absolutely hate the scene this song was featured in, which shows Earn's father, played by Isiah Whitlock Jr., getting bullied by kids in the mall. It’s a testament to his acting ability how upsetting it was to watch. But Fivio, who currently carries the mantle for NY Drill after the tragic loss of Pop Smoke, is a good fit for this moment, and represents the social media generation's angst and little regard for authority. (God, I sound old). Another honorable mention: Gil Scott Heron's “ Save The Children” during the end credits .
Sade, “Your Love is King”/”Love is Stronger Than Pride”
Season 4, Episode 7
We love a Sade moment, always.
Public Enemy, “Fight The Power”
Season 4, Episode 8
Immaculate storytelling here. Deviations from the main plot in episodes like this aren't your typical “fillers” that are used in most series’. With Atlanta they exist to highlight themes such as racial politics, consumerism, and white supremacy in a way other shows seldom do. This whole episode reads as an IYKYK plot, because many of us have long considered A Goofy Movie a Black film, and here we get to not only imagine that it is, but to do so in a way that explores Black exceptionalism. Thomas Washington was just trying to fight the power, and be a good father.
Ray Charles, “Don’t Let The Sun Catch You Crying”
Season 4, Episode 9
And yet another episode where Brian Tyree Henry reminds us that he is an ACTOR, one that closes with a moment between Alfred and Earn that is a callback to earlier episodes when they are just cousins chatting it up, before the fame and success. It was a nice reprieve after I sat through the entire episode thinking this was it for Paper Boi, and developed a deep, irrational fear of feral pigs. Fun fact, this song was originally sung by Louis Jordan and later remade by Ray Charles, but his version is my favorite.
The East Flatbush Project, “Tried By 12”
Season 4, Episode 10
I first heard this when DJ Premiere used the instrumental as the beat for the Shady 2.0 Cypher at the 2011 BET Hip Hop Awards, when their cyphers used to be good. The East Flatbush Project is actually a single person, Spencer Bellamy, and he’s only ever released 6 singles. This is a great usage of one of many deep cuts in the series, which I have a feeling Donald Glover has a hand in curating. As an acclaimed producer himself, I would bet his knowledge of Hip Hop is vast and encyclopedic. I’m ready for new music anytime, sir.
Funkadelic, “The Song is Familiar”
Season 4, Episode 10
“There is a song that I sing whenever I'm sad, feeling bad
There is a place in my head that I go when I'm feeling low”
The song the series closed with, a song about loss, and retreating into your own head in order to move past it. A seemingly poignant note to end on, but one that could actually not mean anything at all. Atlanta always left us with more questions than answers, but gave us good music and a lot to ruminate on, so I forgive them.
(Final honorable mention: Season 3, Episode 9 had a lot of moments where interesting music choices were used, particularly Italian selections from film soundtracks that seem to have little to do with the plot of this episode. I’m curious if theres an obscure tie-in somehow with racial passing and racial performance, or if they were simply just used to set a dramatic tone.)
White male mediocrity in art, and why I hate Kaws and Daniel Arsham
In September 2021, Hyperallergic published a review of KAWS: WHAT PARTY at the Brooklyn Museum. It was SCATHING. I loved it. To be completely transparent, I did in fact purchase timed tickets to the exhibition, but wound up standing outside talking to a friend and never actually made it in to see the work. My interest was superficial - I’ve been tired of Kaws for a long time. At his best, he represents a new generation of collectors who have developed an appreciation for accessible and relatively affordable works, or “art toys”. At his worst, he’s a vapid representation of consumerism and bad taste. Those in defense of his work will often draw comparisons to Andy Warhol, which I consider baseless, as Warhol was always upfront about his obsession with celebrity culture, commercialism, and product. Brian Donnelly insults us all by pretending that he’s a manufacturer of icons who subverts and challenges what art can function as. Or, he gives us nothing and leaves it all up to interpretation, which is lazy. The key idea in Pop Art is that no hierarchy of culture should exist, but what if the work had no culture to begin with? Or the culture has been milked and exploited to the point to where it represents absolutely nothing except ambivalence, or soulless capitalism? KAWS is a successful Pop Artist if the criterion for success is based on how many times his website crashes while resellers and hypebeasts clamor to buy collectible plastic toys to sit on Ikea shelves and pair with WET GRASS carpets (RIP Virgil) and Murakami flower pillows. He’s a good artist for people who value aesthetics over taste, or still think that boring white males are contributing anything meaningful to the art history canon. Which brings me to Daniel Arsham.
To start, I’m not a fan of empty space and neutrals as a design choice. It feels like gentrification. (If he wasn't an artist I just know he would be a developer.) Also, “Blurring the lines between art and architecture” reads too much like “intersection of art and technology”. Give me a break. However, I can appreciate the elements of decomposition and decay in his sculptures, and I applaud him for his use of material, and the effort it clearly takes to produce some of his works. I also think the concept of fictional archaeology is interesting and original, but I question if a practice that's so rooted in ephemerality can truly mean anything. Arsham hasn’t drawn many Warhol comparisons, but in an interview about his role as Creative Director of the Cleveland Cavaliers, (so unnecessary, imo) he mentioned how if Andy were alive today he would be the CD of the Knicks, which to me feels like him vying to be tied to his legacy in some way. Arsham’s work would make more sense to me if it could be considered within the context of Fluxus, but his high-end collaborations align him more with a figure like KAWS, who seems to value branding over creativity. It’s because of these luxury collabs that I've begun to take Arsham less seriously as an artist who claims to want to engage new audiences outside of “high-art”. It just reads as lip service, as I'm sure that his tax bracket makes him very aware that it’s impossible to have it both ways; art world elitism does not allow for that. Also, he’s really really boring.
Both Donnelly and Arsham have different artistic styles, but there are core similarities that link them to one another. They’ve both designed album covers for prominent hip hop artists, Arsham for Gunna’s Drip Season 4 and KAWS for Kanye’s iconic 808’s and Heartbreak deluxe version, and are darlings of Streetwear and “hype” culture. They’ve collaborated with Adidas and Jordan Brand, respectively, and if Artsy or Art Forum aren’t writing about them, you can bet Hypebeast and Highsnobiety are. They are quintessential ‘art bros’, creating for the male gaze, ignoring the internal politics of the art world because their whiteness affords them the ability to do so, and succeeding not by sheer talent alone, but ego, artifice, and the idea that they can get away with anything. I am almost tempted to applaud their audacity, but I don’t clap for white men.