Drake compounds his tweeting errors with a fake apology. We respond with a rap of our own devising.
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It’s been a stunning turn of events for Canadian rapper Drake in the past few days, first for his lamentable online denunciation of Rolling Stone’s decision to feature the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman on their cover, shunting Drake to the side, then for his laughable political apology.
We’ve scoured our brains thinking of a more damaging series of career moves, and come up with these:
- Richard Nixon’s “I am not a crook” denials and his claims of recording malfunctions (the 18 minute gap) that resulted in his impeachment;
- Bill Clinton’s outrageous responses to rumours of an affair with White House intern Monica (Devil with the Blue Dress On )Lewinsky: “I did not have sex with that woman”;
- Toronto mayor Rob Ford’s continued denials of drug use, as in “they didn’t ask me the right questions.”
Drake “apologized” saying he was sorry to anyone who took his initial response “out of context”.
Here’s why, Mr. Ex-Cool Rapper, you’ve suddenly gone from being Big Drake on Campus to Lame Duck in Muddy Waters.
1. Your initial tweets revealed you to be a spoiled child. Your weak apology compounded your troubles by insulting our intelligence. Who took what out of context? No one. You clearly lashed out at everyone who decided the tragic ending of a great actor’s life was less important than your trifling career.
2. Other than for gossip value and the thrill of watching an accident happen, why would any self-respecting publication ever want to interview you again?
3. If you really want to let only your music speak for you, be prepared for an impending decrease in volume.
We’ve taken a vote here at Vivascene and considered the shame you and a couple of other notorious Canucks have engendered in the past few weeks. And we’re also, btw, very proud of that young Canadian who willingly gave up his spot in competition at the Sochi Olympics so that his teammate could compete. The one who rejoiced when that teammate won a silver medal.
Think of this, Drake. You could have done the same. You could have praised Rolling Stone for their decision, and by stepping aside graciously you could have made yourself look like the man you probably want to be someday. It’s still not too late for you to craft a new apology, and create a new character for yourself in your life’s drama. But somehow we don’t think that’s in your script.
In the meantime, assuming plus ça change, we raise a a glass to toast the heroics of speed skater Gilmore Junio….. and we offer this raspberrry to the new Canadian Three Stooges: Rob Ford, Justin Bieber, and Drake. Lame ducks all three of them.
And one last thing, Drake, perhaps you could consider teaming up with the other two Stooges to record the little rap below. Consider it truth in advertising. Consider it a music journalist’s gift to you.
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We Are Still The Stars (lyric by Brian Miller)
We bit the hand who feeds us
Now nobody needs us
Nobody believes us
Come back Rolling Stone
Throw this dog a bone
Answer the g-d phone
You took us out of context
We agree to plead no contest
Just get us on that cover
If you don’t then you can shove ‘er
We are still the stars
We each own nineteen cars
You dudes are just reporters
We got us our supporters
Sure we apologize
Take a look inside our eyes
We are still the stars
We each own nineteen cars
Sure we’re very sorry
We’ll tell you any story
Cause we’re Canadian stooges
Absolutely clueless
We bit the hand who feeds us
Now nobody needs us
Nobody believes us
Apologies political
Secretly we’re cynical
It’s far too metaphysical
For you to figure out
Of this we have no doubt
We are still the stars
We each own nineteen cars
You dudes are just reporters
We got us our supporters
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