

Though the feelings remain (always feelings, big feelings), the sound-for the most part, courtesy of longtime affiliate Noah “40” Shebib-is always changing: a little dancehall here (“One Dance”), a little house there (“Passionfruit”), some old New Orleans bounce (“Nice for What”), a bit of Wu-style boom-bap (“Started from the Bottom”), some smooth, to-the-minute trap-soul (“Hotline Bling”). But most of all, he felt like a person-someone who isn’t canceled by his paradoxes, but defined by them.


Critics-and he’s had plenty-like to point out that he started as an actor: He played Jimmy Brooks in the Canadian teen show Degrassi: The Next Generation. Was he an R&B singer who rapped or a rapper who sang? Was he really that sad, or just doing a bit? And if it wasn’t a bit, how could this guy-talented, intuitive, hardworking-really be so down?įrom minute one, there was something a little different about him: He could be confessional, vulnerable, but also incredibly coarse he could make an earnest commitment one minute (“Take Care”) and be drunk-dialing the next (“Marvins Room”) he could convince you he was an underdog from his perch on top of the world (“Started from the Bottom”). After all, he figured, you get someone hanging your name next to Tupac’s, even if it’s only to take a shot at it? You must be doing something right.īorn Aubrey Drake Graham in Toronto in 1986, Drake became-like Tupac-something of a generational voice, a prism for his pop-cultural moment. A couple of years after he broke into the mainstream with 2009’s So Far Gone, Drake was browsing art in Los Angeles when a piece caught his eye: a big neon sign that read, “LESS DRAKE, MORE TUPAC.” For a minute, he felt angry, embarrassed-he wanted to walk up and rip the sign off the wall.
