Photo by Pooneh Ghana
Drake is not a man in charge of his feelings.
At Raptors’ games, on Instagram, and in his lyrics, as he’s being (maybe) frenched by Madonna, Aubrey can’t keep it together. Basketball prompts freakish enthusiasm (to the embarrassment of the players), and Instagram doubles as his LiveJournal. If you’re in The Six, you look around, eager to see Drizzy running through the streets, woes in hand (even if "the woes" might mean "his mom"). And if you try to start a fight with him, he’ll just look really, really sad. Which is a very big deal, since, for a very long time, male artists in the mainstream really didn’t seem that way. And now they can’t emote fast enough.
In March, John Mayer told Rolling Stone that he’d experienced an intellectual “high-speed crash” back in the 2000s, and that at one point, he’d have rather killed himself than be killed. Last year, Chris Martin celebrated the release of Ghost Stories by telling BBC Radio 1 about embracing his personal truth in the wake of his divorce, as well as how he actively fights "not to be a dick." Shortly after that, Young Jeezyrevealed that Jay Z cried while writing his verse for "Seen It All", and this past January, Bruno Mars admitted that he "cried at the end" of a viral video of high schoolers covering "Uptown Funk". Hell, even Ed Sheeran almost shed tears on a radio show a few weeks back after being asked about his recent breakup. And they all send a message: male pop stars are really just as messy as us.
True, pop stars have always been messy or flawed. But for the most part, the myth of male masculinity dictates the following: "real" men don’t cry and they don’t outwardly express with anything like sensitivity. Which is why we’ve learned that to be a man in mainstream music, you emote by lashing out lyrically, violently, or on TMZ. You punch a guy onstage like Pitbull did in 2009, incite a riot like Axl Rose did in 1991, or you throw a kid on his ass the way Akon did in 2007. You hurt people and ultimately hurt yourself.
But as the 2000s went on, vulnerability become a new type of currency as tough guy schticks got even staler. And the poster child for this movement was Kanye West.
Following his appearance on the Hurricane Katrina telethon in 2006, Kanye has continued to assert his emotional self, whether by breaking down onstage following his mother’s death or most recently, crying on BBC Radio 1 while remembering his late friend, Louise Wilson. Even while lashing out physically at paparazzi who insulted his wife, Kanye explained to GQ this past January that he acted out to defend her. "People have pinned me as a predator in some way," he told the magazine. "And in no way am I that. I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone. I want to defend people. I want to help people."
This need to express himself is a huge part of Kanye’s pop star persona, and it’s rare to meet a pop star (of any gender) whose reactions to major events aren’t poised, rehearsed, or missing. Kanye unapologetically offers a full spectrum of human emotion while sitting proudly at the top of his game. And this has helped open the door for other men in the industry who are trying to get to theirs, too.
In 2010, the boys who’d become One Direction cried openly onstage when they lost the X-Factor competition. Since then we can see One Direction’s celebration of emotion as a bit of a brave new world for boy-band pop: teen boys with a wider gamut of feelings. In the '90s and early 2000s, we had open-shirted 20-somethings like Backstreet Boys, 98 Degrees, and O Town who wrapped themselves in mystery, hair gel, and gave us vaguely tender prom themes like "I Want It That Way". Those expressions of feelings weren’t spontaneous expressions, per se. And even when Justin Timberlake broke from his posse to become Mr. Heartbreak, he used his breakup with Britney Spears to slut shame and embarrass her. "I think I still have a lot of feelings," he toldRolling Stone in a 2003 interview. "Though I don’t particularly know what they are yet."
On the other hand, the guys of One Direction have identified and fronted their feelings shamelessly. Following their 2010 stage tears, the boys participated in Red Nose Day in 2013, travelling to Ghana, where they experienced full-on breakdowns at the hands of children suffering from malaria. (As one would.) Then most recently, following Zayn’s departure, Liam posted a short novel on Twitter, thanking fans and begging them to "please keep ur faith in us" (before which, Harry delivered a tearful thank-you to fans onstage).
That is hardly the norm. Considering public displays of emotion tend to create a dissonance in any situation (even among us mere mortals), to see four of music’s most powerful pop stars emote authentically is huge. Yes, they defy the notion that boys aren’t in touch with their feelings, but they also give permission for the next generation of up-and-coming male pop stars to follow their lead.
That’s not to say we’ve opened our arms entirely to Men Who Emote. While the likes of Drake, Kanye, and 1D have helped prove that real guys can and do cry, Justin Bieber’s recent apology tour has garnered eye rolls and scrutiny, especially since the wee boy posted a video of his flair for fake crying back in January. Then, after Bieber approached the mic to promise he was going to change following his Comedy Central roast, his apology was less celebrated than anything said by Hannibal Buress. "You should thank me for your transparent attempt to be more likeable," Buress told Bieber. "I hope it doesn’t work at all."
Buress’ words explain why clearly PR-directed Justin Bieber has experienced a backlash. If an artist is going to put himself out there, then do it organically (or at least be good enough at lying that we think that’s what you’re doing). This is why the Justin Bieber haters have yet to be won over, but why Kanye’s apology over Taylor-gate last year still resonates.
That being said, with only a handful of male pop artists currently wearing their hearts on their sleeves, it’s important to remember that gauging one’s intentions may only deter other artists from opening up. It’d still be worse for more men to become Nice Guys and fuel the "Hey There Delilah" brand of faux sensitivity, knowing that it’s a safe career move. And it’d be worse still for artists to reject real-person feelings altogether by penning "Blurred Lines"-style songs and blaming any backlashes on somebody else. That’s not to say questioning isn’t important, but to take on the role as the Feelings Police will only lead us back to damaging gender constraints.
So here’s hoping Drake gets even sadder. Here’s hoping more Kanye West continues to make us cry. Here’s hoping that more male artists embrace the notion that softness isn’t weakness and to express sentiment as their personal selves is healthy, too. After all, it takes a tough man to cry. And it takes an even tougher man to run through The Six with his woes.