Admission time: I’m not a fan of one Aubrey Drake Graham. Never liked a song of his, never cared for any of his mixtapes. I can even remember the times Shake played me a few tracks from Comeback Season a few years ago, yet the only thing I could think while he did so was, “So... this jigger who couldn’t even act much less walk on Degrassi is rapping now?”

I’m sure this will be wrongly assumed as good ol’ fashioned disdain/“salty because he’ll have way more money, clothes and hoes than I’ll ever get” hate for the guy, but the last time I checked I didn’t have to necessarily like what everybody else digs; I just post it from time to time.

All personal thoughts aside, I can’t deny his larger-than-most-of-my-current-rap-choices stature. Incredibly popular? Check. Highly anticipated? Check. Carrying weed for platinum selling, currently imprisoned fellow rapsters? Check. Hell, the guy even had his own Sprite commercial, and I hadn’t seen a rapper pushing a low-end beverage since B.I.G. was rapping about St. Ides over Tha Dogg Pound’s “New York, New York” beat. I’m guessing it’s this popularity that’s allowing him to be... experimental with his latest outputs, because I’ve never been more confused about anything whenever I see one of his music videos.

You can look towards his musical/creative/rich kid upbringing for reasons, but I’m going to blame his lack of “no men” in his circle and his weird need to prove something he doesn’t need anyone’s approval of in the first place, since it appears as if he greenlights any and everything presented to him without a second thought. With breasts so large and bouncy they probably could have slapped me through the computer screen if I leaned in close enough, Drake’s Kanye West-directed “Best I Ever Had” was just confusing as shit (or, if you’re a lifelong member of NO MA’AM, the greatest video ever made in the history of music videos), only made worse by Jimmy’s corny declaration to “take that D.” This was then followed up by the visuals to “Over,” which I assume was to be his “street single” but came off as avant-garde for idiot savants. Finally, last night we were all treated to an over-dramatic, six-minute long mini-movie for Belly Part 3: The Return Of Ox... I mean, “Find Your Love,” which featured über-thick patois, shoddy acting and über-thicker Maliah Michel. I don’t know about you, but I’d never tell a gangster to cuff his chick around me; I like being able to pee standing up.

Yes, I’m well aware that none of these will wipe out Drake’s buzz. But what does that mean for the rest of us when an artist can come out with some nonsensical shit and the masses eat it up? I could go into a long-winded dissertation to try to make a connection between the far-too-easily impressionable youth and how poor education affects them in ways I shudder to think about, but the main hustle is on the fritz right now and I have to attend to it. But I know I’m not the only one who’s left scratching their heads after seeing a Drake visual.

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