Keke Palmer Gets Raw On 'Just Keke': How The Multi-Hyphenate Reclaimed Her Narrative & Entered Her "Awareness Era"

Keke Palmer has made the evolution from child star to Hollywood empress look seamless. Whether it’s on set of a blockbuster movie, along the red carpet, or in the podcasting space, the actress, author, and entertainment mogul has remained the same Keke she’s always been.

For more than two decades, Palmer has been steadfast in her pursuits and intentional with her public image. She’s taken on bigger and more mature roles as an actress and launched KeyTV, a Los Angeles-based digital network that produces scripted and non-scripted shows starring other industry talents. As she’s expanded her horizons and ping-ponged from one big budget project to the next, she hasn't taken her sights off music. 

Palmer has continuously poured into her music career. Beginning with 2007’s So Uncool to her newest release, Just Keke, the pop and R&B singer has gradually found her artistic footing. With the release of her latest album, Palmer has  shed the immeasurable weight of perfection that she carried for so long on her shoulders. 

Palmer has effectively abandoned the charismatic Hollywood persona reflected in her TV and movie roles and hilarious viral quips. Rather than disguise her anger, confliction, or heartbreak harbored since her last project, 2023's Big Boss, Palmer shed her previous "mask" in exchange for a mirror. Just Keke reflects the most authentic parts of Palmer's Hollywood star and Lauren, the girl from Harvey, Illinois who’s outgrown the small talk, lingering hangovers, and romantic drama. 

Released on June 20, Just Keke is Palmer’s rawest musical project to date. The album, and accompanying visual album, explores Palmer’s family life, her journey as a new mother, and her very public breakup. Throughout the album, she addresses her contentious split with Darius Jackson, and how her seconds-long dance with Usher at his Las Vegas residency in July 2023 placed an irreparable wedge between them. Rather than address it on social media, Palmer was compelled to put it to wax. 

Along with the pain of heartbreak, Palmer swats down the rumors and misconceptions that circulate online, and illuminates how motherhood and her recent experiences have made her an even firmer protector and believer in her future aspirations. GRAMMY.com spoke to the multihyphenate about her musical journey, how her role in an upcoming Boots Riley movie inspired her to get back into the studio, Issa Rae’s advice to go "Off Script," the honor of being memed, and her hopes to take her son, Leo, on tour for the album. 

The interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity.

Between movies, TV shows and your podcast, how do you have time for music, especially a new album?

The conversation always leads you, meaning I don’t always have something to say for an album. I feel like in order to put an album out, you have to have a topic. A lot of the other things I do are collaborative projects, so it’s somebody else's words or it’s a role, or even hosting is just a curiosity of life. 

But with [Just Keke], it’s like me putting all of my thoughts together — everything that I feel like I’ve learned or I want to reflect from society. It really guides me. Once I feel that feeling, then I make the time to put that project together. Otherwise, I kind of allow myself to keep living until that itch comes back. 

You even recorded Just Keke while filming a new film. What was that balancing act like?

It was something I needed because, as I said, that itch came back. I was working on this project for a while, and I was working on [the Boots Riley film, I Love Boosters]. I think being in that energy I was like, I think I’m ready. I should start trying to get my words out. 

Every night after I was on set, or on the weekend before I went back to start my week, Tayla Parx and Ispent about four days working on the project. And it just gave me that break that I needed. Sometimes when I’m doing one thing for a long time — whether it be a TV show, a movie, or my podcast — I need to mix it up. I needed to do something different, and it happened to be music. I was also ready to tell my story for this time period of my life. 

It’s been two years since Big Boss. How was your approach different this go around?

Well, I think I'm a way different person, and my conversation is different with myself. People say this is my most personal album, and I agree. Not because I was being fake on the other ones, but because anytime that you are deeper with yourself, it just changes the way you speak and communicate with others. It’s like a lived experience that just evolved me in a way that I didn’t even know I could evolve to. It just opened up a different perspective for me that you hear in the music.

This album was a peeling back of the layers and showing the world an insight into the life of Keke the entertainer, and Lauren the person. Were there any moments you thought might have been a bit too close to the chest?

Yes, and that’s the reason why I wanted to work with Tayla on the project because she was somebody that I trusted; not just because she’s so skilled, but because she cares about me. 

My [relationship] with my audience is communal. I’m a Black girl, I’m a Black millennial, and I’m a young person — I take all that seriously. That’s how my parents raised me with my platform. But at the end of the day, I’m a human being. People saw me, in the most public way, go through a very human experience. So, as a person and as an artist, not to address [the public breakup] would be a halt in my growth as a person. I didn’t want to exploit myself, but I wanted to talk about how this has impacted me… how the relationship impacted the way I perceive myself, and all the other ways that I needed to grow and heal.

It was kind of the inciting incident that allowed that barrier of feeling, that weight of perfection to kind of crumble. 

You dug deep on "My Confession." Was there a moment where you thought, Damn, maybe I went too far?

There absolutely was. And by the way, we went through that with every song, damn near. From "Off Script" to "Misunderstood" and "Expose." We went through that multiple times, but definitely with "My Confession," especially with the family line. I was thinking, Well, how much can I say? How were we going to say it?

The way [Tayla] produces projects, it’s not just what I’m saying. It’s also how I’m saying it, the inflections and the vibe. You really get to tap into the energy of how I feel that I’m confessing. I’m truly getting this s— off my chest that I need to get off, and it hurts to get it off my chest because I’m not trying to make nobody look crazy or look bad, but it’s part of my life. And I need to own my truth. 

It was very much a back and forth type of thing where I’m thinking, Damn, is this too messy? But music is your diary. Music is a big, deep expression for any artist that’s trying to be true. Again, it wasn’t that other projects I wasn’t trying to be honest. I didn’t have these experiences to realize that. The music went further on Just Keke because I further as a person. 

How would you define this new personal or artistic era you’re in?

I think this is like an awareness era; a true observational era in moving from just being the performer to also presenting to my audience that I'm the architect. Like, this is what Keke Palmer the brand is going to be talking about this season. 

With Just Keke, it’s clear that I’m talking about fragmentation, integration, and what it means to be a product. I’m talking about becoming who you are in front of the world. I'm talking about your love life and your love story not turning out the way that you want it. But I'm doing it with artistic awareness, while I also take you through the journey as the business and the creative person behind it. I put this together to transmute my personal experience, but in an art form. I’m taking off the mask, so to speak, and saying, "Hey, this is what I’m doing, why I’m doing it, and how I’m doing it." 

In another interview, you said this album was about, "Turning your mask into a mirror." Break that down for me.

I call my fans my miracles. I never called them anything before because it always felt kind of strange to me. But then after this experience, I was just sitting with myself and looking at my life, I thought, They’re my miracles. They saw it in me before I saw it for myself. 

And we’re reflecting each other back to one another. Anytime you get memed, it’s because people see themselves in you, and that’s the biggest and greatest honor. I think I have a unique relationship with my generation. I feel mirrored by them, and they feel mirrored by me. I think that’s really special because that means they see the truth. 

As a performer, I always try to keep it on point. But whether it was at the Met Gala, when I said, "It’s your girl," or when I did Vanity Fair and I said, "Sorry, to that man," they saw the real person. Even though I was trying to be as perfect as I could, they already knew I wasn’t perfect. And that’s what they love about me. And for me, it’s about taking off the mask and owning being in front of the mirror. Being that mirror for them, and being that mirror for me. 

Within the last two years, you became a mother. How do you feel motherhood has inspired you creatively, or even beyond music?

Motherhood has just made me braver. I think that's spilled into everything that I do — the ability to just have the courage to say "no" and have boundaries. To be firm in times when I was it wasn’t as easy to do it myself, but I knew that my son was watching. I knew this was going to affect my son because it’s going to affect me. 

I think it’s hard sometimes for people to stand up for themselves, even for the most confident people you can think of. It can be tough, but when you have a child, it becomes so detrimental. The child needs you, so you become stronger, braver, and more loving to yourself simply because you need to be for the kid. That’s the biggest way my son has impacted my life. 

On the visual album, you honor R&B icons like Whitney Houston and Brandy. Do you see parts of yourself in them?

They’re commercial icons, but they’re also Black women. A lot of what we speak to is generally flattened, fetishized, or it becomes a mockery because of the nature of our society. When I looked at women like Brandy and Whitney, I saw myself in them and saw them trying to become who they are in front of the world. It was never enough; [even] when you’re trying to be perfect, trying to do everything right. 

I remember when Brandy first had her child, and people were shocked. And when people judged Whitney, too. I feel like it’s just a rite of passage when you decide to be somebody in front of the world. I just wanted to honor them because they deserve to be honored for who they are, not for who people wanted them to be. At the end of the day, that’s what I’m saying with Just Keke. Maybe I’m not perfect. Maybe I’m just misunderstood, and maybe I’m not everything you want me to be, but I’m doing my damn best. All I can be is Keke, just like Whitney could only be Whitney, and Brandy could only be Brandy. That’s what’s necessary as we encourage the next generation to come into their own. 

The album wasn’t just filled with heavy material. The song "Tea, Boo" is a fun, house-inspired record. How was it putting songs like those together for Just Keke?

"Tea, Boo" is obviously like my personality. I think all the songs speak to different vibes of me. But "Tea, Boo" is like, "Hey, we’re kicking back, having fun, and let’s make a moment." 

"Tea, Boo" was a lot of fun. We were in the studio, and I was literally asking for some tea. And I was like, "Okay, I have some tea, boo." And Mike, the guy who was in there writing with me, was like, "What’s tea-boo?" And I was like, "No, I’m saying tea, comma, boo." And he was like, "That’s a song." From there, we started working on this record, and it was so fun. I wrote it around the same time as my book, Master of Me, so I was in the early stages of getting back into music. I kept it in the tuck, and felt it was perfect for the album. 

You were gloating on "Ripples," and included your family in the vignette during the visual album. That had to have been a special moment.

I was showcasing the side of me I damn near forgot about myself because I was doing everything that I could to be Keke Palmer. But there’s Lauren Palmer inside that created that persona to be able to survive. But now, I don’t have to do it to survive. I can do it with intention. 

Aside from talking my s—, I also wanted to show what it means to build a legacy. To show this is what it means to play your role in your family, and to continue to do what you need to do at all costs. My family has supported me. I’ve supported them, and they won’t stop. That’s how we’re going to keep doing it. That’s how I was raised. My dad talked to me about [actors] Ruby Dee, Ossie Davis, and I remember meeting Kyla Pratt for the first time. I was so nervous that I didn’t say anything. And he was like, "You need to always show respect to the people that put on before you." He was kind of checking me, even though I was starstruck. I think about that often because he was like, "You’re not in competition with each other." We are in support of one another, and we have to give each other flowers whenever we see each other. It’s like we all have ripples that we come from, so we have to pay respect to that."  

Will you have a tour for this album? And if so, will baby Leo be on board for the ride?

You know that baby Leo has to come. I literally can’t leave without baby Leo. I would love to figure out a way. I don’t know what my tour is going to be like because I definitely feel like it has to be its own shape. I’m a musician, but how I see myself as an artist is everything at once. I want to figure out what’s the best way to do that kind of show because it has to be very much Just Keke. But doing a show and doing a tour is definitely on my list. It’s been the main thing me and my team have been talking about.

– Grammy.com

Key Glock On Channeling 2Pac With 'Glockaveli' & How The New Album Marks A "Rebranding"

After delivering a series of trunk-rattling hits and Billboard Top 20 projects, Key Glock stepped away from music in 2024 for personal and creative realignment. Upon his return this year, the Memphis rapper had inked a deal with Republic Records. While it was perhaps an uncharacteristic move for the independent star, it fulfilled an important promise.

Born Markeyvius Cathey, Key Glock followed in the footsteps of his cousin and mentor Young Dolph. And one week before the late rapper was fatally shot in their hometown in 2021, Dolph urged Glock to sign a major label deal if anything ever happened to him. In the years since, Glock has continued to praise Dolph in his music and carry on the independent label the "Major" rapper co-founded, Paper Route Empire — and with his new venture, he's able to honor Dolph's legacy and take his own career to the next level. 

The partnership deal with Republic allows the "Let's Go" rapper to maintain his long-standing relationship with PRE while granting him a wider musical audience. As he declared to Billboard upon announcing the deal, "I feel like I exceeded my goals as an independent artist… In this next chapter, I'm planning on getting platinum albums and more plaques."

Glock formally kicked off his major label era on May 2 with Glockaveli, his fourth studio album. Inspired by 2Pac's Makaveli persona, the project channels the same trap-infused sound and motivational anthems that have become parables to his artistry — from the soulful "Watch Da Throne" to the booming, DJ Paul-produced "3AM in ToKEYo."

Like Machiavellian themes laced throughout 2Pac's posthumous classic, Glockaveli hints that Glock is determined to make a bigger mainstream splash, no matter how much work is required. And with a new album, a 20-city tour and another planned project on the horizon, "South Memphis' finest" is already full speed ahead.

Below, Glock discusses the "rebranding" that led to Glockaveli, why he channeled 2Pac with his latest album, and how he plans to top himself with his new musical venture.

How was it piecing together your first mainstream album? I heard you had family and friends vote on which songs deserved to be on the final track list.

It was definitely [hard]. I grabbed like five groups of 10, and I just took votes out of all the 50 songs. It went from 50 songs to 30 songs, to 20 and 18 songs. Once I did that, by the time I was done, I had five or six different track lists. 

I didn't just go with the s— that I liked. I didn't want to be biased. I'd rather have other people's feedback. They're fans, but they're not my fans. They're my people. They're going to tell me what's right and what's wrong, music related or not. 

The album sounds like an elevated version of the sound you've already established. Did you work with any new producers or collaborators for the album?

No new producers. Everybody is from day one. [I worked with] Tay Keith, King Wonka and Mannie iL. Everybody else you heard from this album is who you probably heard from my first or second mixtape. 

I couldn't help but notice the 2Pac and Makaveli connection. What inspired the album title and sound?

It came from 2020 or early 2021. Me and Young Dolph planned after my Yellow Tape series, I was going to do the Glockaveli stuff anyway. A lot of people don't even know I already had the chain pre-made and everything. But stuff happens. After a while, I wasn't focused on it any more. I didn't care for music anymore. 

But last year, when I took the time away from music, and got my mindset right and my personal life set back the right way, I was recording. I never stopped recording. And it was all these different types of songs and music. It just sounded like a way stronger Glock than any other version of Glock.

You talked about this album symbolizing new beginnings. In what way? Is it personally, musically, or a mixture of both?

Both. It's a rebranding. That's how I look at it. 

There's no features on the album. Why such a bold move for your major label debut?

It's a self-confidence thing. I have strong faith and belief in myself, and I just like proving people wrong. I don't mind being the underdog sometimes. 

I'm glad I'm like that because it motivates me to always try to do something better than the last thing I've done. I never get content or satisfied with whatever I just did. I'm trying to top that now. 

You signed a partnership deal with Republic Records back in March. Was that a strategic move to help you take further steps in your music career?

Of course, it will help. But if I didn't have the work ethic and drive that I have — Republic could do the most, but it starts with me. I can't be 50 percent, and [the label] is 100 percent. We both have to be on the same page, and that's where we are.

With everything you have going on, do you feel like you're the face of Memphis? Or even the South?

I never look at stuff like that. I never even aimed to be looked at like that. I just be me, bro. I let people take it how they want. 

Outside of music, you've talked about starting an acting career. What's an ideal role for you?

I'm still waiting for somebody to call me or come get me. I'm slowly showing it myself in my own music videos. And eventually, I'll shoot my own s—, too. Once I get addicted to writing and shooting my own movies, it's over.  

I write most of my [music video] treatments now. Not 100 percent, but most of it is my idea. Every video you've seen, seven times out of 10 it's my idea. 

You've also teased that you'll be dropping another album for your fans this year. Can you reveal any previews of the project?

[The fans] are going to be satisfied. Well, not even satisfied. They're still going to be hungry. It's like you can't get enough of Glock, basically.  

Any surprises fans can expect on the Glockaveli Tour that kicks off May 21?

I can tell you to expect the unexpected. My shows are lit. I'm a rock star. 

– Grammy.com

The Impact Of Jay-Z's 'Reasonable Doubt': How The GRAMMY Hall Of Fame Album Introduced An Icon

It's hard to believe that no one wanted to sign Jay-Z in the mid-'90s.

Before he became one of rap's most decorated and celebrated moguls, the Brooklyn-bred emcee, born Shawn Carter, faced so much rejection from record labels that he was forced to release his first album independently. Little did the naysayers know, that project marked the beginning of perhaps rap's most prosperous career.

Arriving June 25, 1996, Reasonable Doubt introduced Jay-Z as a rapper who wasn't afraid to tell a gritty tale, and who would do so with a captivating and calculated delivery. The album's 14 tracks offer stories of cut-throat street hustling, near-fatal bouts with opposition and the lavish lifestyle acquired from a life of crime — narratives that were true to his background. But that also hinted that Hova had a hunger and wisdom that would take him far.

Reasonable Doubt's now-iconic black-and-white cover further leans into the album's mafioso themes, with then-26-year-old Jay in a suit and brimmed cap, cigar in hand. The cover "was really more like establishing him as this timeless character from Brooklyn. Styled out, sharp and clean," photographer Jonathan Mannion explained to Revolt.

On May 16, the album will be honored with an induction into the GRAMMY Hall of Fame, alongside impactful works by Santana, Luther Vandross, Emmylou Harris, Fela Kuti & Afrika 70, and Cat Stevens. The inducted recordings will be celebrated at an exclusive gala in Los Angeles.

While 1998's Vol. 2… Hard Knock Life is Jay's most commercially successful album, and platinum projects like Blueprint and 4:44 are among his most personal records, Reasonable Doubt was the musical spadework that made all his ambitions possible. The project — which sold roughly 420,000 units by the end of 1996 —  laid the foundation for the legendary emcee, whose contributions inspired generations of artists.

Jay-Z has often talked about his love for Reasonable Doubt, asserting that it's his favorite album in a 2013 interview with "The Breakfast Club": "That's the joint it took my whole life to make."

But the journey to his first album didn't come easy —  yet that's exactly what made Reasonable Doubt so special.

Jay-Z's early collaborations with fellow Brooklyn emcees and mentors Jaz-O and Big Daddy Kane flashed his tongue-twisting rhymes and fast-twitch sound, but records like 1989's "Hawaiian Sophie" failed to convince execs he was anything more than a sidekick to a bigger name. In true hustler form, Hov decided to take matters into his own hands.

"I had to put [Reasonable Doubt] out myself, nobody would sign me," Jay-Z said in a 2001 interview with MTV. "I went to every single record label and they were like, 'This guy is terrible.' He's nothing."

Recorded between 1994-1995 at the former D&D Studios in Manhattan and released independently via Jay-Z's own Roc-A-Fella Records, Reasonable Doubt was elevated by contributions from DJ Clark Kent, Irv Gotti, DJ Premier, Ski, Knobody, and other contributors. Featuring dialogue from Scarface and Carlito's Way, the album leaned into stories that seemed to be torn from the pages of life in the Marcy Projects of Brooklyn.

Part of Jay-Z's genius is in the diversity of offerings on Reasonable Doubt. Tracks like "Politics as Usual" offered a 360 view of the dark and unforgiving drug underworld; "Dead Presidents II" became a generation-spanning motivational anthem; "22 Two's" was a lyrical exercise executed in flawless fashion; and "Can't Knock The Hustle" was a radio-friendly serving.

"Reasonable Doubt showed a mentality of the bosses versus the runners," rapper Tone Hooker said in 2016's Reasonable Doubt documentary, RD 20. "In the '90s, everybody wanted to be the best rapper. Now, everybody wants to be the best hustler."

Similar to Nas' 1994 classic Illmatic, Reasonable Doubt reshaped the genre. Jay introduced a new generation of hip-hop fans to luxury rap. Rather than rapping about his superior flow as was common at the time, Jay talked about hustling your way to exclusivity — like taking boat rides to foreign land while sipping Moet.

Along with rhymes of caviar scoops and margarita sips on "Cashmere Thoughts," the closer "Regrets" reflects on the life-altering costs of these choices — from imprisonment to paranoia and death. Songs like "Can I Live" and "Coming Of Age" flashed his razor-sharp lyrics and street wisdom, while songs like "Ain't No N—" revealed his commercial appeal. The project was further elevated by guest appearances from Mary J. Blige, Foxy Brown, Jaz-O, and The Notorious B.I.G., the latter of which became all the more impactful following Biggie's death in 1997.

The album proved to be the introduction Jay and Roc-A-Fella Records needed. "Had I gone to a label, I don't think I would have been able to fully explore what was really happening," Jay said in a 2023 interview with Gayle King.

Frustrated by record label rejections, Jay, Damon Dash, and Kareem "Biggs" Burke used the funds from their singles-only deal with Payday Records (which spawned Jay's "In My Lifetime" and "I Can't Get With That") to establish an imprint of their own. Roc-A-Fella was born from the trio's ability to "rock" or outmatch a fellow emcee on the mic, and their drive for riches like real-life businessman John D. Rockefeller. The label would eventually birth or accelerate the careers of Kanye West, Beanie Sigel, N.O.R.E, Cam'ron, and others.

After landing a distribution deal with Priority Records, which gave Roc-A-Fella the resources they needed to make a notable splash, Jay was the sole artist and musical backbone of the newly-formed company. And with his growing talent, and the support of top-end producers, Jay was prepared to put himself and the label on the map.

Reasonable Doubt launched Jay-Z to stardom. He went from selling CDs of his single "In My Life" from the trunk of his white Lexus at near-empty college campuses to becoming the most dominant force in hip-hop throughout the late 1990s and 2000s. While it didn't land on the top of the Billboard charts, or garner much buzz on the day of release, it established Roc-A-Fella Records as a formidable hip-hop music label and Hov as a premiere face of the genre.

After the success of Reasonable Doubt, Jay-Z notched bonafide No. 1 hits like "Empire State of Mind," 14 chart-topping albums, and 25 GRAMMY wins and a staggering 89 nominations — making him the most celebrated rapper in Recording Academy history. While it's hard to imagine any other artists achieving Jay-Z's level of success, his first body of work certainly provided breadcrumbs. The path he blazed as an artist and billionaire-mogul was sparked with the release of Reasonable Doubt.

Philly nightlife takes a hit as noise complaints force relocations, unexpected shutdowns

Philly nightlife is an ever-revolving door of happy hour hangs, lavish soirees, laid-back beer gardens, and weekend stay-puts. The city is also home to niche party cultures, intimate music venues, and stylish speakeasies.

Philly DJ David Pianka, better known as Dave P, believes these spaces make the city’s nightlife more vibrant than most. But in recent years, noise complaints have diminished much of its allure.

“Nightlife brings so much to cities, culturally and economically, and it needs to be prioritized more here in Philadelphia,” said Pianka, who founded the electronic music festival Making Time ∞. “So many other cities around the world celebrate and support nightlife and understand its value. Philadelphia needs to do the same.”

Noise complaints, Pianka said, have crippled many of Philly’s outdoor music experiences through the last few years. Fellow DJs and party promoters have been forced to relocate, or even cancel entire events, due to the stockpile of protests brought on by disgruntled residents and nearby establishments.

These complaints often come from neighborhoods with nightclubs and music venues, and newly constructed residential buildings. As, Pianka said, more people and businesses move into these neighborhoods, there is a growing divide between partygoers and residents looking for a quiet place to lay their head.

As new condominiums and high-end apartments are built, more buildings and residents are being squeezed closer together. The city’s growing infrastructure leaves little room for outdoor parties and events to happen without disturbing local residents.

On Memorial Day weekend, DJ Joshua Lang hosted a day party at Cherry Street Pier’s back garden. The event, on Saturday from 3 to 9 p.m., was “before the city’s ‘quiet hours,’ ” Lang said. He hired a sound engineer to monitor the volume, “to make sure it didn’t go over a certain decibel level — which we didn’t.”

The event was a success, Lang says, with over 5,000 people attending. He has hoped it would turn into a series, but in June he posted on Instagram that he would not be returning to the venue “due to neighbor’s complaints about sound.”

A representative from the Cherry Street Pier said they were not aware of any noise complaints, and that while the event was well received, it was only every planned as one-off.

In his Instagram story, Lang added: “it’s frustrating that we already don’t have many options in this city when it comes to venues.”

The city, “is in dire need of an event like this” Lang told the Inquirer. “Philadelphia is an amazing city and what’s happening right now is beautiful between different industries and scenes, but there’s just a ceiling here that seems to keep creatives at a certain level due to city restrictions.”

According to the Philadelphia Department of Public Health, noise complaints are considered a health risk and commercial properties are prohibited from creating sounds that exceed five decibels above the “background level” at a property’s boundary line. The penalty for an initial violation is between $100 and $300, and the fee increases with subsequent violations.

Based on data from the department, there hasn’t been a dramatic rise in amplified music complaints in the past five years. But as of July 27, there were 10 amplified music complaints directed at Philly bars, restaurants, and nightlife spaces in 2023, which matches the total reported in all of 2022.

Pianka said it’s hard to blame a specific group for the noise complaints, but he said new developments are likely the cause of the issue. “The city needs to make culture and community more of a priority over development,” he said. “...[And] there needs to be more communication between nightlife promoters and city officials.”

“We need more venues, nightclubs, and diverse festivals. We need people who understand culture to be in these rooms where they’re making these decisions,” added Lang, who is also the music director for the W Hotel Philadelphia.

Disputes between residents, party promoters, and business owners in the Philly area are not new. Back in 2012, the New Tavern Bar Restaurant, then known as Watusi Pub II, drew complaints from West Philadelphians about the bar’s rowdy patrons and live music performances.

“I hear from people who have had bars in certain areas forever,” said Sara Walker, general manager of the Khyber Pass Pub. “And now that there’s some development next door, all of a sudden people are angry.” Walker, who recently revived Khyber’s live performance space after the longtime music venue was turned into a New Orleans-inspired eatery, believes that “in order for this city to be successful and have people come here to spend money, these [venues] need to be successful.”

She agrees that there are certain “nuisance bars,” but residents often blame establishments for little noise, or even rumblings generated outside their walls.

Public outcry has even forced outdoor restaurant and music venues to shut down operations.

In an Instagram post, Terra Philly announced on July 19 that it would shut down for the season due to increased noise complaints. “We worked both quickly and openly with both city and state officials to update our facility in a way that would allow us to continue operations. However, it seems a compromise could not be reached with our neighbors,” the post stated.

Health Department spokesperson James Garrow said a “warning letter” was issued to the Fishtown garden restaurant and outdoor music space after noise complaints were filed. The letter outlined the city’s noise and vibration law and noted a potential noncompliance fee of $300. But after an inspection was conducted on June 28, no violation was found, Garrow said. “Terra was not given a notice of violation or asked to close. If they have closed for the season, it was not due to Health Department action.”

Terra staff declined to make further statements, but confirmed there will be measurements in place to address the noise complaints ahead of the restaurant’s reopening next year.

Raheem Manning, the city’s first director of nighttime economy, said he doesn’t have economic data to illustrate how noise complaints affect nightlife revenue, and it’s not known if it does. But having met with nightlife mayors and directors in Austin, Pittsburgh, Amsterdam, and Berlin, he’s confident Philadelphia can be an international destination for its nightlife.

For Philly to contend with global nightlife destinations and minimize noise complaints, Manning, who was appointed nightlife mayor by Philadelphia’s Commerce Department in July 2022, said there needs to be a soundproofing fund, like in Berlin, which will shield venues from receiving noise complaints from new neighbors.

“An agent-of-change policy basically makes it so that whoever is new to the block is responsible for mitigating the sound,” Manning said. “If a club has been on the block for 20 years and a developer wants to build an apartment building across the street, it is on the developer to either soundproof the apartment building or they could soundproof the club, because the club was there first, the burden is not on the club.”

– The Philadelphia Inquirer

Charting Drake's Unforgettable Path To 'Honestly, Nevermind'

Just hours after its announcement, Drake released the surprise album Honestly, Nevermind on June 17. The dance and house-inspired record, his seventh studio effort, further proves the pop icon's transcendent abilities and his willingness to extend his artistry to its furthest limits.

On the 14-track project, Drake casts his boisterous rap persona aside and flows over the reverberating sounds and soothing piano keys of South African house and American club music. Collaborators Black Coffee, Noah "40" Shebib and Gordo (formerly Carnage) steer the Toronto rapper and singer on a course of creative free flow, allowing his wistful lyrics and airy vocals to shine on "A Keeper," and "Falling Back."

Despite his stature — and ability to seemingly shift the course of hip-hop and pop at will — Drake has never dedicated an entire project to embark on a new musical pathway. But after being the face of mainstream hip-hop and pop for over a decade, there was no better time to delve into a state of experimentation. Enter, Honestly, Nevermind.

From hip-hop love ballads to strip club anthems and Afro-Caribbean tunes, the four-time GRAMMY winner is responsible for some of the era’s greatest hits. Whether melding melodic bridges and hooks with rap, or dabbling in Afrobeats and British grime, Drake has morphed the pop music soundscape to his liking without compromising his creative intuition — a habit that sprouted the moment he gleamed under the industry spotlight. 

Drake came into the spotlight at an auspicious time, when hip-hop heavyweights like Jay Z, Eminem, Kanye West, Rick Ross and his mentor Lil Wayne sat atop the hip-hop leaderboard and an intense auto-tune phase met its end. Drake's  2009  debut EP, So Far Gone, shook the world by fusing the timbre of slow-grind R&B with the spirit of braggadocious rap.

The EP’s break-out single, "Best I Ever Had," peaked at No. 2 on the Billboard Hot 100 and garnered his first of many GRAMMY nominations — one for Best Rap Song and Best Rap Solo Performance. The "Nice For What" artist had officially created a distinct sound that elevated him to early superstardom.

Drake wasn’t the first artist to sing and rap on his songs, but in an interview with the Jewish Chronicle in 2012, he declared himself the first person to do it at a high level. "There were people who incorporated melody before me, but I would deem myself the first person to successfully rap and sing."

Backed by the Young Money Entertainment hype machine, Drizzy continued his success in 2010 with his first studio album, Thank Me Later. The project boasted concert-ready hits like "Over" and "Fancy," and threaded moments of soul-stirring emotion and honesty on "Fireworks" and "Shut It Down." With its commercial and critical success, the great Canadian hope fulfilled the colossal expectations set upon his shoulders.

Off the heels of his debut project, Drake endeared rap fans with his vulnerability. But this was a pocket he had to carve out for himself and fend against the "soft rapper" label that loomed over his early career. 

"I wish that we lived in a time and a generation where people would stop viewing my honesty as overly emotional," Drake told GQ in 2011 ahead of the release of his second album, Take Care. "People always act like I spend my life crying in a dark room. I don’t, I’m good. I’m a man. I want to be remembered as an artist that gave you a piece of me, as opposed to some surface bulls<em></em>*t. I don’t think people realize that we die, we leave here, and either they forget about you or remember you. And how they remember you is up to you. I just want to be remembered as a poet that was open and honest because I wake up every morning and I’m me." 

But instead of disrupting his accent, the vulnerable Take Care earned Drake his first GRAMMY Award for Best Rap Album and cemented his name among hip-hop’s elite with "Headlines," "Marvins Room" and "The Motto." While Thank Me Later was a respectful debut, Drake felt the latter project offered a firmer grip on his artistry and was a better reflection of the culture of his hometown.

"I came back home and reconnected with my friends… and just realized that we have a true opportunity to again establish ourselves separately from everybody else," Drake said in a sit-down with Elliot Wilson and B.Dot of Rap Radar in 2019. "So, that was when we were truly hellbent on we’re going to have our sound, that sounds like our city, and it’s going to be dark and it’s going to be moody and it’s going to sound like how cold it feels outside."

From his debut Thank Me Later to Nothing Was The Same, Drake reconfigured the limits of rap. His work continued to expand the genre to the outer banks of R&B — paving the way for other rapper-singers like Tory Lanez, Post Malone and the late Juice WRLD.

But it wasn’t until 2016’s Views that Drake veered from his signature sound and began exploring yet another genre. The seeds of "AfroDrake" were sown on album standouts "Controlla," "Too Good" and "One Dance," (his first No. 1 record), further inspiring other artists to delve into the Afrobeats, reggae and dancehall lane.

Drake’s fascination with Afrobeats and dancehall continued on the sonic mishmash More Life in 2017, where songs like "Blem" and "Madiba Riddim." Perhaps a prelude to the sounds of Honestly, Nevermind, the then 30-year-old artist also ventured into UK drill with "Gyalchester" and the Giggs-assisted "KMT" on the project, and made room for British grime maven Skepta to shine on "Skepta Interlude."

Drake has traversed between varying sounds throughout his discography, flirting with house and dance as early as 2011 with the Rihanna-assisted "Take Care." The artist later delved into synth-soaked house cuts on 2013’s "Hold On, We're Going Home," foreshadowing a shift to 100-BPM electro tunes.

As Drake has ascended to icon status in the past 13 years, he’s continued to experiment with various sounds and musical subcultures, reshaping them to fit his own musical taste. But accusations of cultural appropriation began to swirl with the release of the UK funk and dancehall smash "Once Dance," despite the song featuring Afrobeat artist Wizkid, one of the biggest names in the genre.

Drake dismissed the claims in a 2019 interview with Rap Radar.

"The definition of appropriating a culture is not supporting that culture, doing songs with people who are deeply rooted in that culture, giving opportunity to people who are in that culture, that’s not appropriating," he said. "Any time I embark on one of those journeys, I ensure that I'm not only paying all due respect verbally but like I make a point to give opportunity to people that I respect."

Following the success of More Life, Drake's 2018 effort, Scorpion, was a further declaration of his genre-hopping prowess. Songs like the stadium-filling "God’s Plan," sorrowful "Jaded," and the eerily soothing Michael Jackson collab on "Don’t Matter To Me” evenly split the double-sided album into R&B and rap tracks.

Between the 2020 mixtape Dark Lane Demo Tapes and his 2021 studio album Certified Lover Boy, Drake continued to exercise his range, releasing Atlanta trap anthems, brooding R&B songs, and Afrobeat and UK drill records. He developed a formula that generated massive streaming numbers, as his lyrics and songs like "Toosie Slide" and “Way 2 Sexy” became the subject of TikTok videos and Instagram captions. Still, Drake's sound had grown increasingly redundant and the artist was in need of a creative audible. From that standpoint, Honestly, Nevermind delivered.

The album is by far the biggest sonic leap Drake has taken in his nearly 15-year career. Like Kanye’s Yeezus, Drake’s latest effort adopts a sound untouched by hip-hop acts of his caliber while dividing his allies and skeptics. Honestly, Nevermind's dive into house and dance music — both sonically and in its use of producers — further fueled a sense of confusion among rap fans who are unaware of the queer, Black history and influence of the two genres.

The creative detour has birthed lengthy Twitter debates and memes of the highest virality, with folks giving their take on the success or failure of Drake’s artistic pivot. Since its release, Honestly, Nevermind has largely received mixed reviews, with an assemblage of fans either praising or mocking Drizzy’s genre shift.

Publications have been split on the album, with Pitchfork’s Alphonse Pierre writing, "It’s light and breezy, and the songs flow right into each other like a DJ mix, not unlike 2017’s More Life." While the album should work, Pierre opined that Honestly, Nevermind "feels a little empty for one glaring reason: Drake’s writing lacks its former zest." Other music critics have applauded the massive departure, with Rolling Stone Senior Editor Jeff Ihaza writing that Drake created "a collection of blissful dance tunes constructed for embrace and abandon." Honestly, Nevermind, Ihaza continued, is Drake leaping beyond his peers for a "refreshing sign of what’s to come." 

Drizzy appears unbothered by the criticism that’s come with the new release. "It's all good if you don't get it yet. It's all good. That's what we do. That's what we do," Drake said during the album's release party, per Complex.

Honestly, Nevermind is projected to sell between 210,000-230,000 album-equivalent units based on early projections by HitsDailyDouble. And according to Billboard, the album has broken the record for most first-day streams by a dance album on Apple Music, only taking one hour to achieve the feat.

Whether it alienates his listeners or draws in a new legion of fans, Honestly, Nevermind signifies Drake’s willingness to take creative risks and, like Kanye, allow those artistic pursuits to grow in favor over time and inspire other mainstream hip-hop acts to explore the depths of hip-house.

– The Recording Academy//GRAMMY.com