Drake performs at the Landmark Festival in Washington, D.C., on Saturday, Sept. 26, 2015.
The rain had devolved into a drizzle by the time the buzz reached its peak at 8:30 on Saturday night. Drake was due onstage as the headliner of the first-ever Landmark music festival and his scheduled performance had loomed over West Potomac Park all day. A walk around the festival grounds would not be complete without a few overheard mentions of his name. By 8:30 p.m., the mentions had turned into chants.
By 8:35, there he was. Wearing a plain black sweatshirt that simply read “October,” Toronto’s native son was electric from the start. At times, a single spotlight settled on him amidst the black background and stage, giving the appearance that maybe his closing act would be some sort of ascension into the sky. Hey, with the vibe being what it was at the time, you never knew. Drake could do anything.
But there was no ascension, no earth-shattering events and not even any guest appearances. Just the hits and, at the end, a few fireworks. And that was enough. He played them all: “0 to 100;” “Trophies;” “Headlines;” “HYFR;” “Forever;” “Energy.” Nothing off of the recent Future collab made its way into the set, but it was better that way.
Onstage, the rapper said multiple times that he felt there were some “real Drake fans” in the crowd that night. And yeah, maybe he says that every night, but the performance felt less like a snapshot of where Drake was but instead a celebration of what had gotten him there. And in a city that’s constantly making its own history, too fluid and significant to ever be caught up in the moment, it was a perfect fit.
The only time the present came into play, it was deemed a thing of the past. After a spirited run through of “Back to Back,” part of the crowd started chanting “f*** Meek Mill” but Drake cut it off saying, “Don’t worry about it, he’s dead already.” It was one of the few moments in which the rapper went off his script of showing love for Washington, D.C., or saying all the right things about making music, and it brought a howl of approval from the crowd.
Considering the fact that candid moments like this are rare, it was easy to get a sense that all Drake’s talk about how great the crowd or the city was could have been the routine. That could be the only valid critique of the whole thing. But the reality is, even if Drake’s whole image and persona during concerts is a carefully-calculated, manufactured product, it’s a damn good one. It’s the perfect mix of cocky, charismatic and uniquely cool. In short: what he does works. And what he did was fine with the crowd Saturday night as they ate up everything about him.
I found out that to watch a Drake concert as a consumer of popular radio — Internet or standard — is to fall into an unconscious recitation of his (mostly) brilliant lyrics. It seemed like every single person knew most of what was coming out of the rapper’s mouth, no matter the popularity or age of the song. A fellow attendee, who is not necessarily a hip-hop fan, described it by saying she felt like she had “heard all of those songs over and over again in my sleep or something.” It’s an effect that can only come from someone as ubiquitous and enjoyable as Drake, and it’s unreal to be a part of.
At one point, he made mention of all the talk that goes on about him on the Internet, good and bad. He said that none of it mattered, just that moment mattered. That set, right there.
And afterward, that’s the best way to recap what happened. No matter the critiques that might come out of an inherent need held by some to go against the grain, the performance was a success. Because, for an hour and a half, as the crowd danced and roared in the shadow of the Washington Monument, Drake delivered a good time.
And at some point in the set, the rain stopped.
