Pitchfork writer Alphonse Pierre’s rap column covers songs, mixtapes, albums, Instagram freestyles, memes, weird tweets, fashion trends—and anything else that catches his attention.
So many Drakes
There’s been quite a lot of Drake music in 2020, but most of it has been just OK: He was overshadowed by Lil Durk going “oooohohhhh” on “Laugh Now Cry Later,” Dark Lane Demo Tapes was mostly forgettable, and his guest verses have been hit (UK Drake) and miss (no more DJ Khaled collabs, please). But he’s Drake, so he gets the benefit of the doubt, and it seemed like he may have just been having some good ol’ fashioned (strategic) fun until his album arrives. This week, we finally got the first glimpse at Certified Lover Boy with the unveiling of a trailer and a January 2021 release date.
Judging by the nostalgic teaser, it’ll be an album of legacy building and mythmaking, a route that his onetime mentors Jay and Kanye also took as they got older. But mostly I’ll be looking forward to the spectacle, and, of course, the passionate, unwinnable arguments about whether he’s peaked or not and whether, at 34, he’s officially part of the old guard or still keeping pace with the younger generation. Because whether you’re a Drake hater, a Drake lover, or the self-proclaimed lover boy himself, it’s always a good time to be a part of the rap conversation when he drops a new album. And there’s no better way to start off the extravaganza than with a big, dumb, high-budget trailer. Here’s a Drake-by-Drake analysis of its moody scene-setting...
In the opening scene of the trailer, a young Drake—dressed in a bubble coat and Air Forces but sadly not looking like T.J. from Smart Guy—seemingly has a run-in with a UFO. Is he trying to tell us that he had a Close Encounters of the Third Kind-type of situation when he was a kid? Or is he capitalizing on a trendy alien aesthetic? Whatever it is, Lil Drake, who has a heart shaped into his hair (because he’s a lover boy from birth, obviously), just watches the presumed spaceship, which for some reason does not abduct him. Instead, in a nod to the artwork for his breakout mixtape So Far Gone, a bright light beams and cash floats down.
Drake is now grown and also sad—probably because he still has the same haircut he had when he was a child. So he reflects and recreates the covers of arguably his two best albums: Take Care and Nothing Was the Same. It’s clearly a deep message about how he’s older, lonely, fighting to live up to his own expectations. And how he wants a new haircut.
We’re only months removed from Dark Lane Demo Tapes, and Drake is already recreating that cover, too. It looks pretty much the same except for his eyes, which are hard to interpret, but look like a slightly more friendly version of Michael Jackson’s in the “Thriller” video.
The final seconds of the trailer feature a drone shot flying over an arena emblazoned with the new album’s initials. I’m pretty sure the point of all of this was for Drake to say, “Hey I’m Drake, remember me, I’ve done a lot of cool stuff, and I’m a little older now, but I can still do cool stuff.” He probably could’ve said that in an Instagram caption, but I’m all for blowing major-label money on fake UFO sightings and wistful photoshoots. With all the existential pondering about the past and future at play here, let’s hope Certified Lover Boy will be Drake’s Logan.
Lil Wayne’s depressing thumbs up
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It was hardly a surprise when Lil Wayne came out in support of Donald Trump yesterday—after all, this is the same man who once said the Black Lives Matter movement “got nothing to do with me” and took the side of cops following the murder of George Floyd. Even so, it’s still as crushing to watch Wayne giddily co-sign Trump as it was to watch Kanye put on a MAGA hat for the first time. It’s part of a sad trend: For too many rappers, their tax bracket takes precedence over the best interests of Black Americans.
Brooklyn drill check-in
It’s been a tumultuous several months in Brooklyn drill, as the scene continues to search for a way to keep going in the aftermath of Pop Smoke’s murder. With the absence of his booming presence and creativity, there has been a slight dip, but great Brooklyn drill music is still being made.
Over the course of 15 songs, East New York rapper Bizzy Banks tells grim stories of growing up on the block, drops in catchy hooks, and shows off refreshing production choices on GMTO Vol. 1. On “Top 5,” he offers some of the best rapping I’ve heard of late—every word leaves his mouth with life-and-death intensity.
Listen to Bizzy’s “Top 5,” “Movies,” and “Neo”
New York producer A Lau has turned his Off Record studios into a hub for some of the most enjoyable Brooklyn drill rap being made right now. Tazzo B, 26AR, and Rocko Ballin are three rappers he has taken under his wing and set up with production that subtly veers from the norm. Tazzo B is a rapper’s rapper, the type who will say things that you want to write down on your notes app so you never forget it. 26AR is rawer, but he makes up for it with a knack for making simple lines stick: On “Drip” he makes his wardrobe sound so appealing that I unconsciously found myself scrolling Grailed mid-listen. And Rocko is a drill rapper at heart who happens to sing with some soul (more on him below).
Listen to Tazzo B’s “And 1,” 26AR’s “Drip,” and Rocko Ballin’s “Maneuver”
Harlem teenager Edot Baby may look like he’s preparing to take the algebra regents, but he has a big voice. “Ready 4 War,” where he easily weaves between reflective storytelling and brutal threats, is one of the more memorable songs to come out of the subgenre this year.
There’s no song that brings me less joy right now than CJ’s “Whoopty.” It may be the biggest drill record of the last several months, but everything about it is so painfully unoriginal. The Staten Island rapper essentially mashed together Pop Smoke’s production with 22Gz’s lingo, and somehow found himself with a local hit that can’t run its course soon enough.
Rocko Ballin: “Time Up”
There’s a lot of played-out things happening in New York’s rap scene right now: Every drill rapper thinks their path to a hit is rapping on a staticky Pop Smoke-type beat, and every sing-rapper thinks they will be next to blow if they can sound as bubbly as A Boogie does on that chart-baiting Khalid song. Not only is East New York’s Rocko Ballin the rare drill crooner, but he’s also avoided the city’s tired trends. On “Time Up,” his vocals are catchy and smooth without sounding like an injured puppy whimpering on a beat. “Mama said, ‘Boy you is such a fool, you only care about clothes’/Are you proud of me now?/I made it out, but I don’t got a cap and a gown,” he lilts over an acoustic-sampling beat good enough to rival those made in the South. New York needed this.
Mavi: “Good/Smh”
Mavi never wastes a single breath—he’s like a kid who just got home from an eventful day at school and can’t wait to tell you about it. It’s been over a year since the Charlotte rapper’s exciting debut, Let the Sun Talk, so on his new one “Good/Smh” he has a lot to say, even for him. “It’s harder to keep allegiance when the legion is barely fully fed,” he raps in the first half of the song, his wordplay as tight as ever. His vocals drift slightly under the smoky beat, forcing you to lean in or rewind to catch every word. The second half is even better: A knocking beat picks up the pace, and Mavi raps so hard that I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned colors in the booth, like a Looney Tunes character when they’re low on oxygen. It’s an electrifying return.
Quarter water-sized Bronx rapper Bouba Savage is having the time of his life in Pop Smoke’s “Aim for the Moon” video
Toosii’s love songs don’t go the way you think they will: He falls so fast and hard that it borders on obsession. “Girl I’m sitting in the dark right now/Thinkin’ about you,” he sing-raps on “Just a Letter,” a remix of Rod Wave’s “Letter From Houston.” His love is driven by paranoia, made even more berserk on this song because of how the sample of R&B duo Vistoso Bosses’ warm-hearted “Delirious” starts to feel twisted. Toosii may think he’s being romantic, but really he sounds like he’s in Fatal Attraction.
What YN Jay line should get its own song next?
Every week YN Jay continues to deconstruct his own music. After a line from his song “Austin Powers”—“How the fuck you thick with no ass, you got a smoove back”—recently went viral on TikTok, of course Jay had to turn the bar into a song. It’s one of the best parts about keeping up with his rapid output. I wonder what bars he should cherry pick next...
“I can tell the way she throwin’ ass she got a dookie butt” from “Austin Powers”
“Nigga flashing all his unemployment/Oh you think you rich rich?” from “Gotta Get Rich”
“Pretty bitch got a big booty, yeah I gotta stare” from “Triple S”
Snoop: “Nothing Nice”
Snoop is fighting just to get the words out on “Nothing Nice.” The Staten Island rapper has agony in his voice. “You took my brother, now my mother see him in my eyes/All this pain and all this hurt I keep it in disguise,” he raps, voice cracking, as if he’s on the verge of showing the emotion he’s trying to mask. You have to be patient as the dramatic instrumental slowly builds: The drums don’t appear for almost two minutes, but once they do, it all comes together. It’s a song structure that has been done before, yet Snoop’s intensity and urgency makes “Nothing Nice” stand out.
Happy Halloween
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