It all started with one tweet, posted innocuously mid-tirade by a seemingly disgruntled Meek Mill towards the end of July:
https://twitter.com/MeekMill/status/623700698509758464
In trying to vent his frustrations over having not received the levels of support he would have liked for his then-new album, Dreams Worth More Than Money, Meek opened a real can of worms for himself. Others were quick to weigh in over Twitter and Instagram to offer their two cents, with artists like OG Maco, Noah “40” Shebib, Rick Ross and Lupe Fiasco and coming down on either side of the emerging fracas.
The subject of the controversy, the alleged ghostwriter, was an Atlanta rapper by the name of Quentin Miller. Miller is one half of the duo WDNG Crashers, an outfit who have been gaining traction themselves over the past year or so independent of Drake. Meek attempted to frame Miller as the sole writer for a large volume of Drake’s raps – however, as was quickly pointed out by OG Maco, Miller has been duly acknowledged for his association with Drake and his input into Drake’s creative process. Miller’s name popped up five times in the credits for If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late, Drake’s mixtape-cum-album released earlier this year. When the credits for that album are scrutinized, it’s also clear that Drake claimed no sole responsibility for the lyrics of any track on that album, many being the product of a number of writers. That album might have been released under Drake’s name, but it was by no means the work of Aubrey Graham (to give Drake his name proper) alone. Miller is but one among many, and so it seems that “Drake” is the creation of a number of writers and producers. Meek followed up his first tweet with another:
https://twitter.com/MeekMill/status/623703382675460096
Despite this claim, Miller was given credit for his contribution in the credits for the track, and as such was a contributing writer, rather than a ghostwriter, a fact he also claimed himself.
It would appear that a large part of rap music is simply knowing who to work with and honing the contributions of others to bring about the realization of the artist’s own vision.
This wasn’t the first time that Drake came under attack for appearing fake, and doubtless it will be the last. Back in 2013, his song Started From the Bottom received criticism when it was perceived as being an attempt to portray himself as coming from a poor background, in spite of his relatively middle class upbringing. Why though does it matter if he was honest or not? In essence, Drake is a pop star, and pop music has always dabbled in fantasy. David Bowie is perhaps pop’s most famous chameleon, having cycled through a number of guises over the course of his career. At times, Bowie has been an astronaut, an alien, and an almost caricatured drug addict. Rap music constantly blurs the lines between reality and fiction, and in this regard carries on the tradition established by pop music. If identities are created in rap music, they are generally grounded in gritty realism. Pusha T presents himself as a coke dealer and Future moves dope. However, both are now two of the biggest names in rap music, and it’s unlikely that they still deal drugs, even if this was true at one point in time. It’s romanticist and naive to imagine a hip hop album being solely the product of a rapper and his producer; it doesn’t work like that. Most of the bigger albums are the result of heavy collaboration.
Rap and hip hop now sits in a position where it can be considered a serious art form in mainstream consciousness. The genre owes this position in no small part to Kanye West’s 2010 magnum opus, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. This album featured no fewer than fifty-one credited writers and ten credited producers besides West, with many more artists reportedly being involved in the recording process. Some of this content didn’t make the album, but it was doubtlessly still important in terms of inspiring the shape the album was to take. It would appear that a large part of rap music is simply knowing who to work with and honing the contributions of others to bring about the realization of the artist’s own vision.
Rap might have a preoccupation with “realness”, but the reality is that “realness” is hard to come by, and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing if the stories that the artists tell still grip us.
Rappers availing of the writing talents of other rappers isn’t a new phenomenon. N.W.A., an act who emerged in the late eighties and are currently the subject of media attention again due to the recently released biopic charting their rise, present a particularly famous case. Eazy-E was the personable and charismatic frontman of the group, but famously the provenance of many of his lyrics have been the subject of debate. In many instances, they were written solely by bandmate Ice Cube, with minimum to zero input from Eazy himself. Eazy-E’s biggest solo hit, Boyz-n-the-Hood, was also written by Ice Cube. In a recent interview for MTV, Ice Cube himself gave a lax if somewhat convoluted view on the subject of ghostwriting:““I respect rappers more when they write their own lyrics. But as far as making a song, anybody can put a song together. It don’t matter how it come together. All that matters is what’s coming out the speaker. So, as far as making music and making records, it don’t matter who write it. As far as MCing and being a rapper, you should write your own stuff.” Dr. Dre, the breakout solo member of the group and arguably the most prominent hip hop artist of the last twenty years, has repeatedly been the subject of allegations concerning uncredited collaboration. Further to this, N.W.A. are important in the context of this article in that they effectively lay out the plane in which a rap artist could be “real”, themselves having come from ghetto backgrounds.
All this considered, Meek Mill’s allegations seem to simply be an affirmation of the state of hip hop today, rather than an insult to Drake’s artistry. All considered, it would be a slight on Drake to even think of him as simply being a “rapper”. He also is an entrepreneur, runs a record label, and – perhaps most cynically with regard to his “realness” – is a business man. A large part of what he does (and what any major rap artist does) is tastemaking. The Weeknd and ILoveMakonnen both to some degree owe their current levels of popularity to touts from Drake, and Skepta’s emerging status in North America is also being driven by Drake. Arguably all of these artists then in turn have influenced in some way Drake’s own music. Hip hop from it’s earliest days has leant on the talents of others for its realization, being a genre of music that was built on a culture of sampling older records. Rappers are creators certainly, but hip hop has never worked with raw materials. Rap might have a preoccupation with “realness”, but the reality is that “realness” is hard to come by, and that isn’t necessarily a bad thing if the stories that the artists tell still grip us. How many artists rap under their own birth names? The adoption of a moniker automatically suggests that there is an artificiality and a volition in the way one presents himself. Aubrey Graham is one man, and while “Drake” might be represented in the same incarnation, “Drake” is an identity that is slightly more multifaceted, or perhaps even multipersonal.
