March 8, 2013

 photo Drake-5AM-In-Toronto_zps25b2ed8d.jpgDeen featuring Deen.

It’s safe to say that Drake has earned the right to talk all the shit he occasionally rap-sings. I could parse the lyrics to “5AM In Toronto” line by line, but that strikes me as pointless. There may have been a time when he hadn’t done all the shit he brags about on this song, but even the biggest Drake detractors have to admit that the man has made something of himself.

So why does this shit ring so hollow? Is it because I’ve never been intimidated by a light skinned nigga ever? Is it because Drake has the rapping voice of a prepubescent whiner? Is it because I’m tired of listening to folks who oughta be happy as fuck bitch and moan about insignificant shit? Is it because the contrast between the aforementioned whiny voice and the digital thump of this beat is a little jarring to me? Is it because the title of this song invites comparisons to what might be a superior effort in ‘9AM in Dallas’?

I dunno. I can’t really answer any of that shit right now and I don’t care to. That’s what tequila and a pre-work hangover do to your analytical reasoning skills. I can’t even be bothered to make the ‘HYFR’ or ‘The Questions’ joke I thought I’d be making at the end of that last paragraph. It’s likely that I feel more obligated than inspired at the moment. After all, it’s Drake. He’s good. He’s important. He’s special. But I’ll tell y’all this: I’m never drinking again. Kids, stick to marijuana.

OK, fine. Here’s some analysis. I think we’ve reached the point where Drake is much better at joyous celebration and braggadocio than he is at introspection. I don’t think he’s ever been good at expressing anger or delivering aggression. Really. I don’t know the more intimate details of the man’s life and I’m sure he’s dealing with some shit too, but I ain’t here for all that. If we’re being honest, Drake should be the one naming an album Life Is Good. I mean, the nigga blew 50 racks in a shake junt the other day and owns a special ass shower that shoots lazers n’shit. Pause.

Whatever though. Decent song is decent. No more, no less. And for those of you who find yourselves irritated by Beige Gawd on this track, just be thankful that he isn’t talking about “catchin body like that” while wearing Nike gloves and mean-mugging in front of a bunch of darkies. That shit was embarrassing for all of us.

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