With Drake’s debut album due out next week, the New York Times decided to pay its respects—and by respects, we mean grovel at Drake’s feet for three pages. With woeful descriptions of his past heartbreaks (ahem, Rihanna), emotionally tuned lyrics (we wish someone would tell us our sushi rolls are hotter than wasabi) and defiance of gangster rap conventions, writer Jon Caramanica attempts to elevate the celeb to a new kind of PG hip-hop royalty:
As a rapper, Drake manages to balance vulnerability and arrogance in equal measure, a rare feat. He also sings—not with technological assistance, as other rappers do, but expertly. Then there’s his subject matter: not violence or drugs or street-corner bravado. Instead emotions are what fuel Drake, 23, who has an almost pathological gift for connection. Great eye contact. Easy smile. Evident intelligence. Quick to ask questions.
We’re just prodding. It’s easy enough to do: the man’s made it big, and he’s got talent. Plus, as Caramanica says, he is “tall, broad and handsome.”
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