Dr“AI”ke: the epitome of algorithmic hip-hop

The way the Kendrick [IO1] vs. Drake [IO2] “beef” played out still surprises me a bit. From the outset, it seemed like a celebrity pissing contest, with a fairly clear-cut winner already predetermined. Not really worth too much time or attention. But the way it captured people’s attention, the amount of discourse it generated, there was a distinct air of distraction evident in the situation. It suggested a kind of obsession with entertainment[IO3] , an almost toxic intolerability of boredom. Vince Staples’ response hit a central chord fundamentally: when the current climate makes it difficult for black people [IO4] to come up in the music industry, why does there need to be such a loud conversation about who the best hip-hop artist is? There are bigger issues that are more impactful to discussions about blackness and hip-hop, the two being as intrinsically interwoven as they are. But truly, what was most baffling was the obvious mismatch of opponents. Kendrick and Drake practically play different sports[IO5] . Did we really need the back-and-forth exchange of diss tracks to expect Drake to take advantage of superficial and materialistic jabs whereas Kendrick would critique character and humanity? Drake has marketed himself as the king of hip-hop with the data to back it up, the #1 hits, the features with trendy artists, the optics to maintain a mass appeal. But Drake is a fan of hip-hop culture rather than a product of it.

Drake, like AI, is in some ways a product of our society’s fixation on entertainment. In response to our apathy and boredom, they brand themselves to us as simultaneously the current and next big thing. An institution enduring only as a way to distract ourselves from the heavier, unpleasant issues of our world. For music cross from entertainment to art, to strike a chord, there is a certain level of earnestness a musician must possess, a certain level of trust with the audience to share a portion of themselves. I’m open to the idea that Drake did have this quality, that his early discography is evidence of his ability to intersperse a rousing self belief, an arrogance almost, with a vulnerability borne of self reflection. I would argue this was the height of his artistry and cultural impact. Rappers really were getting bodied by a singing [redacted], and in many ways, he eschewed traditional visions of masculinity and revolutionized how hip-hop artists presented themselves and the possible modus operandi available to up-and-comers. Still, the bigger Drake became, the more detached he seemed to become from his vulnerability. Suddenly, it seemed like it was more about putting all the right words and sounds together to ensure a song could chart. After revolutionizing the landscape and vibe of rap music, he’s now reshaping his image to meet past expectations. Stuck in something of a recursive loop, his music propelled his celebrity, and his celebrity propelled his music.

Inherent to the hit-making process, especially in the streaming age, is to synthesize and anticipate trends. An ability to be all things to all people. With the right data it becomes almost an exercise in regression analysis. This ability to collect, interpret, and externalize data is something that Drake, a biracial Canadian man had unique experience with. He split his childhood years between Toronto and Memphis, so he was more aware than most of not only the disconnects and discrepancies between Canadian and American concepts of blackness and how this impacts each country’s respective hip-hop culture, but also the way they speak to each other. Often, blackness in Canada is rooted and validated somewhere outside the country (Boutros, 2023). In a country that prides itself on multiculturalism, yet in many ways bunches its citizens into the categories of English, French, or everyone else, Toronto is a city that is home to that unnamed last category. In particular, the city boasts a large Afro-Caribbean population that is majorly influential in the its pop culture. As is often the case, the contributions of black people to culture are downplayed, vilified, imitated for profit by those without any first-hand experience with it (Elder, 2016).

Hip-hop has historically been a place for the contributions of black people to be spotlighted and celebrated. It has been a medium for making up for and overcoming severe deficiencies and poverties, often financial, that are so often the realities for black people. The fact of the matter is Drake is a lightskin man, raised primarily by a white mother and who was able to move to a more affluent neighbourhood in Toronto with help from the proceeds of his acting career. In this context, Drake did not really have many “credible” claims to blackness according to hip-hop convention. It becomes clearer that an element of his success hinged on proximity to “real” black people with experiences that are out of Drake’s reach. The tokenization of words, attitudes, accents; the ability to flow seamlessly between worlds, picking and choosing which elements are most likely to pe profitable or relevant at any particular moment is almost a necessity for navigating the industry. Jumping from afrobeats, to dancehall, to grime, Drake has a history of taking time to study genres as they begin to trend, build enough credibility to rub shoulders with their respective big names and gatekeepers and go on to create music with them. His star power often leads to asymmetric benefits in his favour, giving these collaborations an exploitative quality. Whether it is in his use of patois, or his affinity for Atlanta, Kendrick’s colonizer accusation seems like more of an accusation of appropriation wrapped in a deep-seated hatred and presented sensationally. Is he wrong, though?

The indictment in Not Like US isn’t the first time Drake has faced an appropriation accusation. I mean, did he ever really beat the allegations of being an actor playing the role of a thug? But he was never just playing the role of a thug, never had one cohesive persona, he portrayed himself “tough and vulnerable, imperious and approachable, narcissistic and empathetic, tormented and carefree, man and meme” (Richards, 2018). Walt Whitman said “I contain multitudes” as a way to explain his sense of connection with himself and the world at large, but Drake’s interpretation seems a way to compel the world to connect to him. He’s taken a quantity over quality approach to music, releasing 15 albums and mixtapes since his breakthrough in 2009; an average of 1/year. Sites like rateyourmusic, metacritic, and AOTY show a consistent track record having albums rated higher by critics than listeners, and all-around lacklustre reviews. A discography that is technically decent but that can never seem to quite live up to expectations. Like generative AI, he has in some ways served to lower our expectations of what to expect from great artist: intention and meaning. Drake recently released “100 Gigs for Your Headtop”, a 100-gigabyte multimedia content library with its own dedicated website, containing previously unreleased music, behind-the-scenes videos and promotional materials, accessible free of charge. Some believe it to be a continuation of the Kendrick v. Drake debate, an attempt to humanize Drake post-Not Like Us (Brickner-Woods, 2024); others see it as preview of a new music distribution platform controlled by Drake (Harihar, 2024). It’s difficult to come up with any definitive rationale outside of this is what Drake thought would be calculated next best step for him. Something he could leave us to speculate about then determine what to make of it once the dust has settled.

AI is a product of late-stage industrialism, where the motivation for its production is more divorced from economic or societal needs and is less tangible than products from earlier stages. The exploitative and voracious consumption of resources remain, just on a much larger scale. Resources that could potentially be better used elsewhere. Likewise, giants of industry like Drake often create their own empires in a sense, amassing vast benefits for themselves. As though they are operating on economies of scale, many who reach this level attain almost God-like heights free from censure since their position is assumed to be a product of the world operating perfectly and naturally. Regardless of whether or not Drake’s position is fully earned, the level of success he’s achieved, the positive changes he’s been able to make, should he really be free from criticism? Is it because criticism implies jealousy? what even is there to be jealous of? A milquetoast rapper without a distinctive point of view?

Baldwin probably said it best when he said the role of the artist is that of a lover, it is to make the object of your affection aware of the things they do not see. To do that requires more than stochastic parroting, more than posturing, signaling, regurgitating a stunted and under-developed dream; it requires imagination, introspection, intention, and courage. It requires the artist to ask more from themselves not so much in service of the 99, but rather in search of the 1.

[1]B. Brickner-Wood, “How Drake lost the plot,” The New Yorker, 05-Sep-2024. [Online]. Available: https://www.newyorker.com/culture/the-lede/how-drake-lost-the-plot. [Accessed: 09-Sep-2024]

[2]S. Elder, “Where did Drake’s ‘Jamaican’ accent come from?,” BuzzFeed News, 28-Jul-2016. [Online]. Available: https://www.buzzfeednews.com/article/sajae-elder/some-ting-borrowed. [Accessed: 11-Sep-2024]

[3]A. Boutros, “The impossibility of being Drake: Or, what it means to be a successful (black) Canadian rapper,” Global Hip Hop Studies, 16-Jan-2023. [Online]. Available: https://intellectdiscover.com/content/journals/10.1386/ghhs_00006_1#fn0002. [Accessed: 03-Sep-2024]

[4]C. Harihar, “Drake’s ‘100 gigs’ is bigger than you think,” Medium, 03-Sep-2024. [Online]. Available: https://medium.com/@chris_harihar/drakes-100-gigs-is-bigger-than-you-think-89c059fa7f62. [Accessed: 10-Sep-2024]

[5]C. Richards, “Drake started from the bottom, now he’s insufferable,” Chicago Tribune, 11-Jun-2018. [Online]. Available: https://www.chicagotribune.com/2016/08/26/drake-started-from-the-bottom-now-hes-insufferable/. [Accessed: 10-Sep-2024]