If the storylines from How Stella Got Her Groove Back and R. Kelly’s “Down Low” had a lovechild, it would be Drake’s new video—- and everyone in their neighborhood would be would be whispering about if the plot from Scarface is the real daddy.
The last time Drake and Kanye hooked up, it was for the ill-conceived big breasted female basketball team-themed video for “Best I Ever Had”. Thankfully, their collaboration this time around is relegated to music. “Find Your Love” sounds like something Justin Timberlake would’ve come up with if he had stepped outta his Timbaland box for just a minute and put Kanye’s 808s & Heartbreak on repeat for six months. With a crooning Drizzy in Usher mode, the song is a mid-tempo Pop/R&B number that sounds like it was accidentally left of the soundtrack of some 80s movie with a sunny locale.
I guess the director also felt like the track was cinematic cuz the video is a five minute mini-movie detailing the dangers of mixing pu**y-whipped rappers, island vixens, and bad guys in sequined, American flag t-shirts. Shot on the mean streets of Jamaica, the clip opens with an older bearded gentleman wisely warning Lil’ D., in an ultra thick what-did-he-just-say? patois, against a doomed affair with a young beauty with ties to the neighborhood’s resident homicidal gangsta. When not consumed by smoke in the studio, D-slice finds himself consumed with said young woman who has a penchant for hoop earrings and purple swimwear. The music stops midway through to allow for heavily accented mumbled dialogue from the bada$$ before he and his posse of menacing homies corner The Artist Formally Known As “Wheelchair Jimmy” in the midst of trying to get his Romeo on.
Again, I always appreciate when hip hop artists (even when they’re singing) eschew the bottle poppin’ and a$$ droppin ’ and opt to make a video with a little more substance. I’m not quite sure why the big, bad gat-toting thug needed a whole crew to deal with the dude from Degrassi nor is it clear to me why the love interest flipped on Drake, but the lesson learned is clear: interrupting your Caribbean recording sessions to knock boots with one of the locals will earn you a complimentary bullet-induced wig splitting… and have you feeling less than irie. Grade: B-
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