That a song this dark could be a hit is further evidence of Drake’s complete saturation of rap radio.ĩ6. The “I’m On One” gang (Drake, 40, Khaled, Weezy and Rozay) is back, but whereas that track is a world-stomping masterpiece, “No New Friends” - more a warning to enemies than a celebration of old pals - is insular and paranoid and kind of a drag. Relevant Drakeism: “That’s luxury dawg/ Day one niggas, man, ya’ll stuck with me dawg” Drake, Rick Ross and Lil Wayne from Suffering From Success, 2013) Given the Houston fixation Drake is always so eager to remind us about, appearing on a track with Bun B and the late Pimp C must be like a trip to one of those rock ‘n’ roll fantasy camps.ĩ7. Relevant Drakeism: “I’m an honorary resident of UGK town/ I’m on my way”
Drake and Bun B from The Naked Soul Of Sweet Jones, 2013) Relevant Drakeism: “Girl, quit playing you just drunk, you just saying shit/ Oh you dance, dance like how, like ballet and shit?”Īn early sign of Drake’s versatility: After surging into the limelight singing hooks for A-List rappers, he tacked on a rap verse for an A-List R&B singer.ĩ8. “The Resistance” is not a fun song to listen to, but it’s an essential component of Drake’s story: at his most sniveling, complaining about his success before he even takes a moment to enjoy it.ĩ9. Relevant Drakeism: “What am I afraid of? This is supposed to be what dreams are made of” “The Resistance” (From Thank Me Later, 2010) Then again, that’s one of our favorite hobbies, which might be what keeps us coming back to this dude.ġ00. If this is the face of Generation Y, maybe we ought to take a long look in the mirror. I knew before going in that Drake was kind of an asshole, but after skimming through so many passive-aggression tracts and pressing play on so much synth-drenched navel-gazing, I’m still kind of stunned at the depths of his self-obsession. Below, immerse yourself in his 100 greatest songs, but be prepared to go a little crazy in the process. He’s compiled so many enjoyable and/or important songs in so little time that it only seemed right to mark the occasion by taking a long look at his body of work. After only four years in the spotlight, his aesthetic is buried deep in urban radio’s DNA, his king-making powers second only to his myth-making powers. He’s almost certainly the biggest star in rap and R&B right now. That elasticity is a big part of the reason Drake finds himself on top of the world this week upon the release of third LP Nothing Was The Same– as far as you can describe a headspace this bleak as “on top of the world.” The sing-songy Toronto rapper has proven he can do it all: from simp to pimp, from gentleman to jerk-off, from gracious mama’s boy to gratuitous party monster, all while slowly but surely nudging rap’s center toward his own burning core of solipsistic longing. His charms are hard to resist - a man of many talents, a man for all seasons, a man who chews up the entire hip-hop landscape and spits it back out in his own image - but after a while, if you’ve still got your bearings about you, you learn to keep your distance from the dude and just let him simmer. Immersing yourself in Drake’s catalog is more than a little like jumping into bed with the guy for one of those torrid affairs he likes to emote about in the endless tear-stained diary that is his discography.