Drake – Spark Arena November 3, 2017

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Kate Powell attends the first of two Drake shows at Auckland’s Spark Arena…

Prior to last night, I didn’t ‘get’ Drakes music. His singles undoubtedly have good production, but his lyrics and delivery seemed way too paint by numbers to justify his massive following.
His following was what initially led me to review his Boy Meets World Tour at Spark Arena last night. Because in popular music, there are two types of artists: those who simply reflect popular culture and those who change it. Drake is one of those rare people who have done both.  Beyonce and Kendrick Lamar are probably the only other artists working today at remotely the same level. Like them, Drake has expanded the cultural lexicon on every plain,  from his memified dance moves making it onto SNL toYOLO becoming a cashed-up life motto. This is on top of 4.7 billion streams on Spotify alone last year and the consideration that the current Top 40 rap-lite cohort was clearly made under his influence.

Walking into the packed-out Spark Arena, the air seemed to crackle with a mixture of hype and reverence that I have rarely felt. With his fans breathlessly awaiting his second coming, phones aloft and trained on the smoke-filled stage, it all felt very evangelical.

Fittingly, Drake arrived with a florish, rising from the middle of the stage through a trap door and immediately launched into a rapid-fire one-two-three of some of his biggest hits: Free Smoke, Trophies and Started From the Bottom. His complete irreverence for the traditions of putting on a live show-i.e save the hits till last- was breathtakingly ballsy and certainly raised my eyebrows. Complete with pyrotechnics and laser lights, there was more energy in the first 10 minutes than I’ve seen in entire shows.

While I was concerned that this burst of energy was going to fizzle out as quickly as it had started, I needn’t have worried.  After an eight-month hiatus, Drake was rearing to go: “I’ve been sitting on the couch, fucking waiting. Counting down the days till I get to motherfucking New Zealand.”

The Boy Meets World Tour has been named the highest-grossing hip-hop tour this year and its easy to see why. It is showcasing a performer at the peak of his powers. The light show alone is worth the ticket price. Glowing orbs cascade around the stage, twisting into a double helix, rising and falling like confetti or gently flowing over the audience like a breaking wave.

His music production techniques in studio cuts can be described as sparsely minimal, bordering on ambient. Live, they are transformed into relentlessly energetic, optimistic pieces of work. Given that Drake seemed to be singing over his studio tracks, this probably says more about his boundless energy than anything else.

One of my main gripes with Drake is that he is a technically very average rapper who is hyped as the hottest.There are many many others who have way more ability and way less cultural kudos. But I was interested to read an interview where he said of his rap category Grammys: “I don’t even want them. I want to be like Michael Jackson. I want to be like the artists I looked up to. Those are pop songs, but I never get any credit for that. That statement coupled with last night’s performance allowed me to appreciate Drake within a whole different genre.

Drake has absorbed many genres from house to dancehall into his creative palette, but the resulting brushstrokes are all his, blending and altering both the musical and lyrical landscapes of hip-hop and pop. He has such an extensive back catalogue of hits  that he was mashing them all together, reeling them off like a croupier flipping cards. It was a lean, nuanced set that  showed that he understood his audience and what they wanted.

Back onstage, dancers emerge out of nowhere for Work while Hold On We’re Going Home united the crowd. His biggest tune Hotline Bling is almost cheesy by now, but (possibly due to the lack of Dad dancing) he managed to pull it into a sophisticated place.

Throughout the two hour performance, Drake was estatic. He addressed individual fans, congratulated a couple on two years together, called for unity and love in a divided world and not once sounded disingenuous.

A giant orb filled the stage for the final act, turning into both the sun and the moon at various points. Astounding in its simplicity, it was a marvel of stage design which Drake used to full effect as he stalked around it, lights flashing, the crowd not wanting to put their hands down for an instant.

Overall, it was an experience in every sense of the word and a testament to Drake’s dedication to his craft. I never got Drake as a rapper. Seeing him as a pop icon, he was undeniably talented and unapologetically bold, and last night was the moment I got it.

Kate Powell

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