Drake’s money-infatuated album Scorpion reminds me of an incident that occurred during the Mexican beach vacation I took last year. I thought I was living like royalty as I paid $75 per night for a clean room and all the food and booze I cared to consume at a hotel catering to Mexican families.
Only when I snuck into a nearby resort on a futile quest to obtain an English language newspaper did I realize that I was a relative pauper. I blew past an initial wave of security guards with the gringo excuse of “no hablo español” and discovered a hidden realm of exceptional luxury. Dozens of perfectly-toned Europeans wearing swimsuits the size of peso notes lounged around a spectacular water complex that made the centerpiece of my hotel seem like a plastic wading pool. I was unceremoniously escorted out before my beggarly presence spoiled the luxe setting.
Even though I’m ostensibly welcome to bask in the lavish atmosphere of Scorpion for as long as I like, the recording makes me feel like a shabby outsider crashing a swanky gala. Drake appears to disdain everyone who hasn’t achieved similar levels of success. Given that he seems miserable, I have no interest in trading places with the world’s most popular rapper. He may spend more money in an afternoon than I make in a decade, but Drake seems lonely, bitter and petty on the sadly revealing Scorpion. That’s “God’s Plan”.
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My five favorite sets at the Middle of the Map festival were by Spoon, Mx.Mrs Btrfly, Jade Jackson, Rick Maun and Becca Mancari. I reviewed day one and day two of the event for The Kansas City Star.
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I featured Mysterious Clouds, Cubanisms and Logan Richardson in a mid-year music survey on KCUR’s Up To Date.
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I write weekly music previews for The Kansas City Star.
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I parse the disheartening results of a Downbeat poll at Plastic Sax.
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I continue to toil at The Kansas City Jazz Calendar like a sequestered monk copying holy manuscripts.
(Original image of a beach in Mexico by There Stands the Glass.)
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