Drake's Artist of the Decade honour at Billboard Music Awards transcends statistics, underscores his contribution to pop culture

When you look at the sheer enormity of the numbers, it is no surprise that the Billboard Music Awards honoured Drake as the Artist of the Decade in this week’s ceremony. With more than 170 million records sold, Drake is ranked by the Recording Industry Association of America as the highest certified digital singles artist. Four Grammys, six American Music Awards, two Brits, and three Junos aside, he also has a record 27 Billboard Music Awards. His achievements with Billboard read: most Top 10 hits on the Hot 100 chart, most charted songs by any artist (231 last counting), he has spent 431 weeks consecutively on the Hot 100 chart and continues to have the most Number 1 singles on the various R&B, Hip-Hop, Rap, and Rhythmic Airplay charts. But reducing his upcoming award to a function of statistics — while befitting the Billboard benchmark of success — is disservice to the genius of Drake himself.   From the very beginning, Drake’s sonic palate has transcended the trappings of American rap and hip-hop, thus inadvertently playing to the popular stereotype of a civilised, soft Canadian vis a vis their brash, loud neighbours. That is not always the case with his lyrics though. Oscillating between egotistical words and soothing vocal accents, there is a dichotomy in his song writing and singing persona that helps only someone of the stature of Drake to get away with it. He is unabashedly personal, often steers clear of the street-side, crime-hued songwriting that is typical of the genre, and can be both a serial womaniser and a passionate feminist — sometimes in the same album.  There is an audacity about Drake that makes him so hard to pin down through labelling — straddling charisma and dispassion in equal measure. He derides stardom, acknowledging that fame and its various add-ons are merely transitionary. He is able to give the appearance of candid retrospection, taking on complex personal and social demons ranging from drugs to celebrity life.     Drake cleverly manipulates his vocal range to create soothing simple tones or lilting sweet melodies between profound lyrics, tackling tough ideas with softened vocals. He is a rapper with the soul of an R&B singer. He is a Canadian singing a decidedly American genre. And it shows.     He bares his emotions while singing about women, candid about how much he has loved them or how impacted he has been by them. This is tangential from rap’s typical treatment of women as conquests or worse, those to be bitched about because apparently that is what is written in the genre’s rulebook for heartbreak.

When Drake sings about women, either cheerily or with pathos, he sings like they mean something to him. Even if they broke his heart.  

His lyrics are often what women would like to hear in life for sure, and in rap songs in particular. In a genre replete with objectifying women and attaching glamour to sex appeal, you find Drake writing songs with lyrics like “Sweatpants, hair tied, chillin’ with no makeup on; that’s when you’re the prettiest, I hope that you don’t take it wrong.” His album Thank Me Later is a case study in how rap can be poignant if you allow the songwriting process to organically follow its own path than trying desperately to slot it within the confines of its popularly accepted guidelines. And this — despite his frequent lyrical bragging and some self-indulgent songwriting — is among his greatest gifts to the genre.   When you simply read this, some of these lyrics might quite honestly might make you cringe but Drake seems to be able to lend credibility and a degree of earnestness. Oftentimes, he is simply narrating his side of the story. Yet, he makes you sit up and listen, while he chooses from a vast array of musical offerings that span soul and hip-hop.     Over time, Drake has managed to keep a finger on the pulse largely because of his ability to make emotions accessible, using words effectively and his voice smoothly. He may be credited with popularising the term YOLO (you only live once) through his single ‘The Motto’ in 2011, but his digital presence is so massive today that anything Drake does online is meme-worthy or has viral potential. He uses this most successfully through his Instagram handle, creating viral sensations through dance challenges and more.   Drake’s grasp on the internet as medium has been superlative even from the start of his career when he uploaded albums for free. His is an intelligent marketing mind whose synergy with passionate, heartfelt song writing has created a winning combination that has overshadowed his peers for a good part of the last decade. His controversies including virtual verbal duels and legal hassles notwithstanding, Drake has spent a decade giving his emotions the expression they need through rap. Not everyone buys into his feminist positioning nor his lyrical ingenuity but his ability to shape opinion is never called into question. His self-awareness is so sharp, it stands out even within the upper echelons of rap/hip-hop superstardom.   Any wonder then that his upcoming album is called Certified Lover Boy?