Drake - Thank Me Later

The much anticipated debut album of Canadian-born rapper Drake has fallen short of the aspirational allusions conjured by the Obama ‘Hope’ appropriation of his album cover. The young rapper almost sets himself up for an Icarus-style disappointment before we can even open the CD case, with a bold cover which alludes to Drake as the rap world’s Obama. Perhaps if he was presenting himself with a little more modesty, I wouldn’t have to be so scathing. But alas he hasn’t, and so I will be.

The album is uneven at best and completely self-indulgent at worst. While it begins well enough, with a stylistic and conceptually sophisticated duet with Alicia Keys, such moments of musical brilliance are short-lived and sporadic. Instead the record is flooded by a deluge of crass over-sexualisations of ‘fancy’ girls, extremely premature self-congratulatory proclamations, and the contradictory existential moments of melancholy at the cash-fuelled emptiness that is his successful rap career.

Of course, not all of it is bad. Some of the tracks are good, and it is apparent that they have been produced by some of the best in the business. But after about the fifth song, that whiney, monotone ‘lyricism’ that is Drake’s rapping really starts to grate at the ear drums.

So while this is a wholly adequate debut album, its pretence of being so much more is what prompts criticism and dramatic eye-rolling from those like myself who believe that, even if an artist is 100% sure of the brilliance of their talents, a little bit of humility and modesty would not go astray when one is trying to prove the legitimacy of such abilities to the rest of the world. Because if an artist is going to imply that they’re brilliant, and the evidence proves the contrary, then it’s fair game for consumers like me to swoop in and point the finger at such blatant and premature self-glorifications. [Image from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:ThankMeLater.jpg]

Westside Story

While an interesting appropriation of Shakespeare’s infamous ‘Romeo and Juliet’, ‘Westside Story’ can, in no way, replace the original. The story tells of an American boy and Puerto-Rican immigrant girl who meet and fall in love in the mean streets of New York, where their respective ‘gangs’ are in the middle of a turf war. Obviously, the romance is doomed from the beginning as Tony and Maria struggle to legitimise their love in an intolerant world.

This is an interesting premise for an adaptation of Shakespeare’s feuding families, and one that should, like the Montague and Capulet war, resonate throughout time and geography. And yet, the version of the Broadway classic that I saw at Sydney’s Lyric Theatre, seemed dated and uneven throughout. While the dancing was superb – performed in a style that my limited dancing vocabulary could only describe as ‘contemporary ballet’ for the 21st century – the rest of the production seemed to have been left behind in the 1950s when the play debuted.

Furthermore I suspect that the leads were chosen not for their acting prowess, but rather for their abilities to hold a really high and long tune. This would be completely acceptable if they were, say, auditioning for a choir; but one would assume that a theatre production of this calibre could find two people who can sing and act equally well. Josh Piterman and Julie Goodwin’s portrayal of the ill-fated lovers was flat, apathetic and without any real passion.

The only stand-out performance was from Alinta Chidzey who plays Maria’s sassy and fully-Americanised confident Anita. Her performance was charismatic, witty and full of biting humour. In fact, she received the loudest applause at the end of the show.

Perhaps I’m being too harsh, as I’m subconsciously comparing this production with ‘Wicked’, which, in my mind, cannot be beaten. Having said that, I suspect that no-one was supposed to laugh when Maria realised that Tony was dead. Well, I did. [Image from http://www.theaustralian.com/]