Grad school is hard, y’all. The sabbaticals I take from posting are merely because life has changed in some meaningful way for me and there is a period of adjustment to which I succumb. Beginning grad school, being laid off, dealing with unemployment on a weekly basis because of systematic issues with the program, continuing to look for a job and realign my career in the meantime, and maintaining a wonderfully blossoming relationship after the rough ending of the previous one; it all adds up to one thing: Drake sings too much.
I went from criticizing Wayne because of his whiny, gargling, Auto-Tuned voice being everywhere and then was introduced to his Halloween mixtape last year and was turned around. Not so much as to say that he is one of my top 10 or anything, but I definitely have more respect for him than I previously did. Think what you will. That being said, I kind of liked Drake, only I didn’t know who he was when I liked him. I mean, he didn’t say his name as often in his verses. I got my hands on a couple of compilation albums and he was featured a couple of times on a song and I liked his flow. Then I heard some more buzz from him on my frequently visited music sites so I was happy to hear that he was getting some airplay.
Then his single dropped.
OK. Didn’t hate it, he was still rhyming. He just also chose to hit up the hooks as well. Fine. Not standing out from the rest of them folks, but fine. Then I heard a couple of songs where it didn’t matter at all to me that he was sangin’. That “Forever” song was the ish. And it marked a resurgence of Em. In a good way. Finally. So, I thought I’d heard enough of the singles that I could have young Drizzy’s album.
Sang all through the dangblasted thing. Haven’t listened to it since.
Despite the fact that I admittedly enjoyed the transformation of Drizz to a caffeine-free-beverage-craving robot in an interesting Sprite commercial I saw, I recently diverted my attention to the Lupe mixtape Enemy of the State: A Love Story. Good ish. Much less singing. Also got my fingers on Teedra Moses’ mixtape, Royal Patience. She’s supposed to sing. She gets a pass. But, Drizzy McDrizzleface, I just wish you were putting more lyrical prowess on the airwaves and much less harmonizing. I like your rhyme skills, homie. Check this site out—some of the dopest Chicago lyricists all spitting all in one location. Monumental stuff. Cold Hard smashes it.
Drake, I’d like to see you in something like this and not hittin’ them high notes, if I may. I’m just sayin’. Do you. Do what you do. But coming from a potential fan, if you even care, rhyme harder.
Be good.
