Tuesday, September 24, 2013

Nothing Is The Same: Can Drake Save Hip-Hop?



In the beginning rap was synonymous with a boom-boxes, light-post and a backpack. It’s existence beautifully begotten out of the imagination of disenfranchised youth and repressed, urban poets. For over 25 years, hip-hop has boastfully represented itself as the defining flash point of our time. It has expanded to levels incomprehensible, all the while turning in the back-packs for AK-47's and Colombian connections.

With the help of Steven Tyler and Run D.M.C, hip-hop gracefully replaced rock-n-roll as America’s music. It has united Italian couture and urban style as American culture and continues to define the present generation of selfies. Hip-Hop is larger than ever! But just like iconic American symbols such as the automobile, baseball and war, Hip-hop - on the verge of authentic bankruptcy - found its unlikely saviors abroad.

Nothing Was The Same, the third studio album by Jewish/ Canadian rapper, Aubrey “Drake” Graham, is another testament to the influences of American institution on the world stage and how those who are influenced pay homage with furtherance through innovation. It is his first official project of his OVO sound team. The album is primarily produced by fellow child actor-turned recording artist Noah “40” Shebib. Collaborators on the album include Jhene’Aiko, Sampha and the legendary Jay-Z.

Nothing is Drake’s attempt to “LeBron James” the rap game. Like LeBron, Drake plays the game his own way refusing to succumb to the stereotypes of what a rap artist should appear to be. His quest is for the “perfect game”- the beautiful game” of inclusivity and ingenious authenticity. Drake dispels these stereotypes of a “real” rapper being a thug or legendary street hustler on Wu-Tang Forever:  "I find peace knowing that it’s harder in the streets/I know, luckily I didn’t have to grow there/ I would only go there cause there’s niggas that I know there".

Drake, 26, has abandoned the self-loathing and uncertainty about his legacy in Take Care and puts all his true feelings about his current supremacy on the table with lines like: “Shit, niggas still playing my old shit/ But your shit is like the police asking us questions/ Nigga, we don’t know shit/ Flex, nigga I’m just flexing/ Nigga never loved us” on Worst Behavior. He even has a poignant moment of humble honesty when he comparing himself to Lil Wayne when he declares he is “just as famous as my mentor/ But, that’s still the boss/ Don’t get sent for” on Tuscan Leather.

But Drake’s influence goes deeper than rap. His music is risky, humanistic and honest. Unlike the bravado of murder and larceny expounded on by every wanna-be in the game, Drake dives head first into the most taboo and controversial subject matter of the male psyche: Love. Unlike most hip-hop artist, Drake is not professing to be a pimp or a super-player, but like most young men, he embodies a vulnerability and complexity between matters of the heart and manners of the streets. He speaks to the paradigm of youthful masculinity on Furthest Thing: "Somewhere between I'm sober and I'm lifted /Somewhere between a mistress and commitment".

Tracks like Come Thru and 305 To My City peel back the layers on the male-female relationship. Come serves as a anthem to off and on relationships that sometimes span years, while 305 is the most serious song to date on the revelation of compassion for the motives of the opposite sex even if those motives and tendencies leave much to be desired. Drake eloquently allows his homies a glimpse into understanding the modus operandi of the young female by continuously declaring: "I get it! I get it!"

Hip-Hop has been over saturated with misogyny and felony. It's ripple effects are felt throughout every neighborhood and city. The influence of this miseducation is too obvious. It reeks on the breathe of Drake's haters who say: "He is not hard enough" or "He is not real". The encapsulation of those of the pseudo-urban male example are the ones who have been denied there realness. No rapper is more real than Drake because he never hides who is was like Rick Ross. Instead, if those haters would be honest, they could trace their deviant behavior back to broken-hearts and their hostility to a longing to be loved and accepted.

Drake's offering is a profile in expansion of the hip-hop world with melodic dark beats that would impress MF Doom and New York inspired battle raps like his response to Kendrick Lamar on Language. However more homage is required if you ever use the words "Wu-Tang" in any rhyme or title. The interpersonal narratives of the club sub-culture is an obvious examples of his strong Southern rap-style influence and the braggadocio of wealth and status add the necessary "street cred" to rival his peers. But, Drake stands out, even from his gangster-founded label Cash Money, so much so that he could be considered the most influential artist in that camp. Yet, Drake stays true and if he doesn't go all Tupac and venture to far from his core ideology, he may be able to rival Jay-Z for greatness and longevity.