How the Drake hate helped me understand why I always feel like a failure
Through the album If You're Reading This It's Too Late
Drake is undoubtedly one of the most influential artists of his time. His enormous fanbase is matched by an equally massive wave of criticism. But calling his non-fans "haters" doesn’t seem fair—many acknowledge that his music is catchy; they just plain don’t like him.
I’ve often wondered – how can an artist as great as Drake end up with the social credit score of a meme?
The best way to answer this question is to listen to his music and figure out for myself what makes him so unlikable. I think I’ve found the answer—and in the process, I also uncovered why I always feel like a failure.
That’s right - every day I wake up feeling like a failure.
Like any sensible, responsible modern American, I tried to out-succeed my way into peace.
But no matter how many smart degrees I’ve earned, how many bodybuilding competitions I’ve won, how much money I make (or don’t make), or how good I am at stocking shelves and scrubbing floors—I still feel like I’m on the nothing side of everything.
Every day, I feel weighed down by my physical body and all of its experiences. It’s like I’m trapped in the wrong play.
This is why, as off-putting as Drake can be, I can’t bring myself to dislike him.
It’s his willingness to be unappealing without apology that intrigues me. Drake's music is laced with the kind of confidence that demands respect, simply because he accepts himself (this polarizing person) and isn’t afraid to be who he is.
And like it or not, he is a big deal.
Whether or not I like his "character rapper" personality makes little difference when I find his music irresistible. Drake is a talented musician.
First, I want to dig into his "character rapper" persona and the various unlikable traits he displays through his music. I used my favorite Drake album, If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late, as my main reference for this thought experiment.
For me, Drake sounds like a caricature of a rapper.
When you ask someone who either doesn’t like rap or only knows the media portrayal of rap music, I imagine they’d say things like: rap is misogynistic, flashy, philosophically hollow, morally irresponsible, and aggressive.
Drake, the character rapper, embodies all of these traits and flaunts them like a heavyweight belt. I use the word "caricature" because there seems to be a senselessness to his persona, as if he’s more focused on superstardom and profit than on lyrical depth.
Many of his songs are ostentatious, and his flow often sounds more like shouting than rapping.
When I look at album titles like Her Loss, Certified Lover Boy, Scorpion, What a Time to Be Alive, If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late, and Thank Me Later, I get the sense of a larger-than-life personality, one that’s loaded with confidence.
A lot of his criticism boils down to him existing outside the box where typical rap artists and listeners earn respect. This is mainly because he doesn’t make it a point to speak deeply about things; instead, he’s boastful and narcissistic, using his success as ammo to taunt his haters. (In my opinion, he does exhibit thoughtfulness, but it’s often hidden behind tasteless, arrogant language.)
In other words, if the actual words Drake uses in his songs were spoken in a normal conversation, they wouldn’t be well-received by most people. Most would probably respond with something like, “Who do you think you are?” While it’s not uncommon for rappers to use brash and offensive language, Drake seems to own it without offering any reasoning or excuses.
Drake is often accused of being fake and a culture vulture because his rapper persona is so intense. He puts on a show with every song, fully embracing that character. In If You're Reading This It’s Too Late, he demonstrates versatility with slower, more introspective tracks, but that’s not what he does best. Drake excels at displaying the guy that nobody likes.
Drake is also often accused of being soft, which is probably the most common criticism he faces. He doesn’t boast about a tough upbringing or violent circumstances, but he also doesn’t position himself as the deliberate opposite. Instead, he asserts his confidence through threatening language. He’s aware that he isn’t the kind of rapper some people want him to be, despite his success and influence, and he uses that to his creative advantage.
As a lost artist trying to find my way, I see this as a powerful example of the audacity to be that guy and the mental freedom that comes with embracing creative expression. Drake is in constant conversation with his haters, reminding them that he’s fully prepared to accept any opinion about him—as long as he keeps speaking his mind and doing what he wants. Lucky for him, doing what he wants means indulging in a lavish superstar lifestyle.
What I love about Drake is that he doesn’t create any illusions about his personal journey. He openly reflects on lost friends, distant enemies, and the mental burden of loneliness that comes with doing what’s best for yourself. Consider this bar from You & The 6:
“He made me listen to his music, old music, soul music
Shit that can only be created if you go through it”
It’s a raw and honest reflection on the lived experience required to navigate the murky path toward reaching your potential.
Here’s another track that exemplifies this aspect of Drake:
So what does this music have to do with my constant feeling of failure? Any artist will tell you that creative freedom, regardless of money, influence, or fame, is nirvana. I’ve realized that I don’t need to like Drake or accomplish more to feel whole. What I truly crave as an artist is freedom. The aspect of the music that resonates with me most is that sense of freedom—it's a truly beautiful sound.
In all my outward accomplishments, nothing will ever fulfill me like expressing my true self. This process sounds easy, but discovering who I truly am and realigning my goals and values around that has been no easy feat. I lost myself along the way. It's funny—they say you change after becoming a mother, but I didn’t realize how much of myself I would lose in the process, or how difficult it would be to start my journey back home.
I can hear the brazen attitude in a Drake song as he shouts through my speakers, “I am me, and I will always be me no matter what.” For many people, "him" isn’t someone they like or want to support, but how many of us even dare to shout out to the world what’s inside of us, begging to be released? After listening to If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late over a dozen times, I can’t deny that, at the end of the day, I like his music. It gives me feelings of energy, passion, and excitement—even from a personality I typically avoid in real life. To me, the feeling he conveys through his music isn’t one of deep, thoughtful words, but rather the thrilling high of creative freedom.
It’s loud and unapologetic. It doesn’t hold back any punches or make excuses. It doesn’t care if we don’t like what he says or the choices he makes. It knows the real magic lies in the vibe, which he claims to dig out from his heart and soul.
If what Drake says in his music is a script of his life, maybe he is misogynistic, arrogant, loud, and obnoxious. Or maybe the music is just his playground, and he’s actually a quiet, gentle person. We can’t know for sure either way. But what we can’t deny is the confidence he has in his art, and the beauty that comes from his full expression of what’s inside him. I think that’s why he’s able to reach so many people.
Writing Prompts/Thought Experiment
Do you like Drake’s persona? Why or why not? Do you like Drake’s music? Why or why not? What feelings do you get when you hear a Drake song?
With the results of the beef settling in more and more, what are your thoughts on his legacy 20 years from now?
Very demure