Now, Drake Is So Far Gone

Welcome to 55th issue of Backseat Freestyle. This is my weekly hip-hop newsletter I send out every Friday(ish) focusing on one big thing that happened over the past seven days. I also include links (15-25 of them) to what I’ve been listening to, reading and watching. You can check out the archive, here, and read more about me, here. If you’re already a BF subscriber, thank you for your continued support. If you’re arriving to this issue by way of a forward, LinkedIn or social media, please subscribe below. And please share this newsletter with your circle so that they can enjoy it, too; personal referrals go a long way toward my goals for growth. With that said, let’s get into it….

EDITOR’S NOTE: New logo (on the HP), new key art (above), new color scheme (the footer below)…who dis? Me, a creative director! But, on the real, I wanted to freshen up the overall look of Backseat Freestyle for some time now, both to move away from the heavy-handed GKMC motif I’ve used since I launched on Substack 5 years ago and to make this newsletter pop with its own visual ID. Included in the refresher will be the use of this emoji 🚙 in the subject line of messages that arrive in your inbox. I hope to step on the gas some with plans for BF this year, like trying out a new content cadence: publishing bi-weekly essays/producing bi-weekly podcasts (all via the newsletter distro). So that would be newsletter, podcast, newsletter, podcast. It’s more in tune with the new tagline—your weekly hip-hop cypher. And, hopefully, a way for me to maintain output even when I take on a new project (I’ve been fortunate to work on some cool things in the last few years, which you can peep in the portfolio section of my personal site that I also touched up; I’m currently available so inquire!). Now, where were we….

Front Seat

This is what’s driving hip-hop this week….

“NOT LIKE US,” WITH ITS TAUNTS and memorable refrains, arriving on the heels of “Meet The Grahams,” was a devastating knockout blow. It definitively crowned Kendrick king. It left Drake bruised, though not battered. However, the confluence of the song’s otherworldly success (it’s lyrics viral IRL moments, multiple Grammy wins, inclusion in the Super Bowl halftime performance) and Drake’s puzzling post-battle decisions (the legal actions, his strange livestream appearances, abruptly ending his Australian tour) served to take the defeated rapper down another peg. Earlier this week, UMG’s legal team poured more salt in the wound with a striking retort: “[Drake] lost a rap battle that he provoked and in which he willingly participated. Instead of accepting the loss like the unbothered rap artist he often claims to be, he has sued his own record label in a misguided attempt to salve his wounds.” His comeuppance may have been performed by Kendrick but Drake produced this himself.

Back Seat

Respect my mind or die from lead shower.

MEMORY CAN BE UNKIND to one when trying to recall the specifics of a detail. You might forget the date of your wedding anniversary. Or you may not be able to remember the score from that time your favorite team won the championship. 

History, however, is exacting in its broad strokes. I had a summer wedding. That first quarter TD catch by Alshon Jeffery in Super Bowl LII was electrifying. 

I bring this up because when thinking about Drake’s first few salvos in his battle last year with Kendrick, his approach was formative. Yes, his blueprint was stale, retracing his modus operandi from his spat with Meek Mill by going back to back. I hope a hater could at least admit Drake kept things competitive until the knockout blow. 

That’s broad strokes, though. 

Before Kendrick even responded to “Push Up” or “Taylor Made Freestyle,” Drake never stood a chance. 

He ignored those pesky details. 

When I first met Drake during MTV spring break in March of 2009, he spoke about the early insecurities he had over the three strikes he knew would be held against him: “coming from Canada, being on a TV show and being, you know, super light skin.” 

At the time, he was travelling with Young Money and doing a song or two on stage each night during Lil Wayne’s sets—this was before his whirlwind trip to New York that saw him memorably rap off his BlackBerry on Hot 97 and effectively launch his trajectory to superstardom. I wrangled him myself for the interview; there was no team, no label, just him idly standing by. We found a space inside the lobby of the quiet Panama City Beach hotel they were staying in and rolled the camera. 

What I found most impressive about Drake at the time was how self-aware he was as a communicator and how thoughtful he was about his career prospects as his ascent was starting.

“Maybe I don’t have to be the next Ye, I don’t have to be the next Wayne,” he told me. “I can be the first Drake.” 

Back in 2021, in one of my first Backseat Freestyle editions, I published an essay titled “Is The Drake Era Over?” The short answer was no…with an asterisk, of sorts; but the competition was closing the gap. A passage I wrote then feels illustrative now, one about that awareness and how it put him one up on his peers: 

The great irony, of course, as mentioned by Elliott Wilson among others, is that each participant in the battle was at his best when he veered into the other’s lane: “Family Matters” was plenty dense and was packed with a ferocity that Drake didn’t regularly possess during the beginning of his career. The track featured some of the sharpest rapping of his career, ie “Your man a lil' K, we call that shit a mini Drac.”

Kendrick took notice. Prior to the battle-defining “Not Like Us,” he unleashed a preview of the wrath to come during the last 16 bars of “Euphoria,” which included a number of memorable lines, including “I like Drake with the melodies, I don't like Drake when he act tough.”

It wasn’t just the posturing. The timing of the battle made Drake as vulnerable as his eagerness to hit on topics that Kendrick deemed out of bounds (I know both sides debate who hit foul first). For a few years, Drake had been battling against the perception he wasn’t evolving as an artist and that he was recycling the same tales of woe. 

I don’t think rappers truly exhibit growth (in terms of expansion; sorry, Rakim) throughout their career as much as they dial in—and home in on their story. In Decoded, Jay-Z’s 2010 memoir, he wrote about the search for his story: “I wasn’t even in high school yet and I’d discovered my voice. But I still needed a story to tell.” He would later share in a Rolling Stone interview promoting his book the honing that took place once he found it “I may have told, in my whole career, maybe 10 stories.”

So what’s the deal with Drake the last few years then if it’s not for a lack of progression?

In the 33 1/3 series book on illmatic, Matthew Gasteir makes the argument for Nas as the first modern MC over Rakim (again, apologies to The R). One of his standout points (with assistance from MC Serch) is that Rakim and his contemporaries mainly rapped in the first person, whereas Nas’ observational tact allowed him to multiply the POV. As a result, Nas has had both a longer-lasting recording career while also influencing generations after him, including Kendrick.

I’ll take it a step further: there’s “I” rappers and “We” rappers. Both can be successful, of course. Drake once said “I took my story and made history.” That he did. Many times over, I might add. And with his immense talent, he was able to extend the shelf life of an “I” rapper longer than expected. A once in a lifetime artist who becomes the exception to the rule, particularly with his penchant to ingratiate himself into the fold of new sounds and lift unheralded scenes. There are a number of fans, on the other hand, who feel like the expiration date for his act long passed. There’s also his heel turn from woman sympathizer to male agitator.

Even if you think Jay-Z’s work to be rote (you’re crazy, by the way) and a project like 4:44 to be a departure, consider prior to that album there were records like “Song Cry” or “Allure” that made pain a plurality between parties not just centered on the protagonist. 

To bring it back to the details…

Drake lost sight of his own narrative thread, whether that was by acting tough, as K.dot alleges, or, for reasons perhaps he only knows, going at it “20 v 1,” despite his Drake stimulus reputation as a collaborator. On the $ome $exy $ongs 4 U track “Gimmie A Hug” he seems set to reel it back in: “Fuck a rap beef, I'm tryna get the party lit.”

That paints a better picture and with a broader brush. Lawsuits and legal motions, notwithstanding (in a discovery motion, it was reported, attorneys for Drake requested to view Kendrick’s recording contract!). As I wrote for mic.com in 2021, we shouldn’t expect more of him at this point—and presently, he shouldn’t ask more of himself, either: “Drake is who he is: a global superstar, with an almost automatic penchant for cranking out chart-toppers that become streaming behemoths, chockfull of lines that are fodder for social media captions capped off by music videos that make for meme-worthy moments. Asking him to dig deeper or praying for a classic rap album is an exercise in futility.”

Back to the function. Just not like…before.

Trunk (Music)

Music, news, reads, podcasts and videos that I’m checking for this week.

After a long delay, Playboi Carti’s MUSIC album is finally here. For my taste, there’s a lot of heat on the project but the sequencing can leave you with whiplash. I’ll have more to say on the album in the next edition of BF. Bonus: FKA twigs had a conversation with Carti for I-D. [Listen] [Read]

There’s a dash of honesty to Luh Tyler’s “2025 Freestyle” that’s not quite think piece worthy, but it’s notable as the young act continues to find his footing. [Listen]

Boldly James teamed up with Chuck Strangers to release his third (!) project of the young year.  [Listen]

Regionalism ain’t dead! 2Rare’s “Feel Me (Rare Mix)” is a full on Jersey Club banger. Respect to Baltimore. [Listen]

Westside Gunn’s curation sort of reminds me of a pastiche of Prodigy’s rap style, there’s no rhyme to it but the rhythm is there in the end. His latest, 12, is drenched in his usual reverie.  [Listen]

There’s already a swell of lyrical collabo albums this year and while El Camino’s Martyr’s Prayer III is a tick below the rest (Ransom/Dave East, 2Chainz/Larry June) there’s not many records iller than “Mobile Phone.” [Listen]

Haven’t listened to the full Kinda Famous album yet, but KenTheMan stomps out “I Got Questions” with Kalii. [Listen]

Gunna gets to flex on a lighter tip on “Classy Girl,” an upbeat joint with Turbo. [Listen]

Congrats: Tim Hinshaw inks a deal with Warner Records to establish a label component to his Free Lunch agency. Syd formerly of Odd Future and The Internet is his premier act. Bu Thiam partners with Atlantic for his company BuVision and inked 4Batz in the process. [Info] [Info]

News roundup: 2Pac trial delayed. Rocky was found not guilty. Pop Smoke killer sentenced. [Info] [Info] [Info]

Doechii covers New York’s The Cut. Bad Bunny, too. [Read] [Read]

Travis Scott covers Billboard’s sport issue. [Read]

“How Rema Became An AfroBeats Visionary.”  [Read]

Yasiin Bey takes a trip down memory lane as he returns to music on his own terms.[Read]

This was such a good episode of The ROAD podcast featuring Mark Ronson reflecting on his roots as a working DJ. [Listen]

As part of Wu-Tang’s tour announcement, the RZA went on a press run and his appearance on PopCast might have been his best stop. [Listen] 

2 Chainz, Larry June and The Alchemist’s promo run hasn’t been nearly as good as their album, but they had some good moments on Million Dollaz Worth of Game, especially when Chainz reminisced about seeing Gillie and his Major Figgaz squad cyphering it up. [Listen] [Watch]

My brother Tuma Basa on Welcome To The Music Lounge [Listen] [Watch] Related: His boss Lyor Cohen was a guest on the MBW pod. [Listen]

I like the zone Joey Badass has been in all year; I don’t think it’s beef as much as it’s pride with a side of subliminal.  [Watch] [Watch] [LIsten]

Renaissance man Set Free Richardson directed this retrospective on one of hip-hop’s most beloved footwear brands: Clarks [Watch]

Backseat Freestyle is written and produced by me, Jayson Rodriguez, independently via my company, Smarty Art. If you have any comments, feedback or questions, feel free to email me: [email protected]. If you would like to discuss sponsoring an issue of the newsletter, contact: [email protected] and check out the rates, here. And follow me elsewhere:

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