It’s odd to feel nostalgic for anything that happened after 9/11, but 2011 was a simpler time. For me, it marked the first year I’d moved into a Toronto condo after finishing University and getting a job in the sleepy suburb of North York. I lived in a one bedroom at Yonge and Finch for $1,000 a month, and spent any free time I had looking for an excuse to hop on the subway and go into the city.

Toronto in 2011 was best known for exporting actors like Rachel McAdams and Ryan Gosling to Hollywood. It was a time when U2 was still relevant enough to have a documentary at TIFF, an indie darling film festival. Little did we know that in just a few short years, Bono and co. would be foisting their mediocre music onto our iPhones without our consent, and TIFF would go on to enjoy a reputation as a top tier movie festival. However, the city was also making headlines for its controversial mayor, Rob Ford, and its rising stars Drake and The Weeknd.

I moved in the midst of Rob Ford's mayoral term. He had already been in power for a year, but this was still the pre-crack era. My move synced with Oliver posting “House of Balloons” on the OVO Blog on March 20th, and was nine months before “Take Care” would solidify Drake as more than just a fad.

These two musicians not only made a name for themselves, they also helped to propel other local creatives to success. If a rising tide lifts all boats, then you can count the new yachts on the harbor from each of these meteoric rises. Drake elevated himself out of the city along with his group of guys from all over Toronto with him. In 2011 he’d yet to become someone who could impact a life with just a tertiary connection, but he still stayed loyal to the people who made him big.

Party promoters in the city launched their brands alongside Drake’s availability to appear on promo posters, eventually going on to become boxing promoters or A&Rs for major labels. The Remix Project, now a cultural incubator of world-renown, was still a fledgling hub in loft space in Liberty Village in 2011, but thanks to support from Noah Shebib from Drake’s camp (a former instructor) it was set to be the hotbed it is today.

Meanwhile, although still a fledgling Lothario in 2011, The Weeknd similarly lifted his core group into a stratosphere of success most will never know. “The Trilogy” and his writing credits on “Take Care” catapulted him to Hollywood, where he would fail to recapture the vibe that was dubbed by bloggers as “PBR&B” with his floppiest album to date, “KISSLAND”. To his credit, after escaping to California he came back to Toronto to recharge his batteries and seek inspiration. During this time he would go on to lean heavily on the Toronto creative community of directors and photographers to solidify his artistic style, best described as highly stylized urban paramilitary troops wearing Stussy and Rick Owens. This time back would eventually leading up to the release of “Beauty Behind The Madness” in 2015 (arguably his best work outside of the “Trilogy” series).

But happening alongside all of these historic Toronto moments was one Tory Lanez. Tory had been known in Toronto as a rapper who would do anything to gain attention, including claiming to be Drake’s fraternal twin at one point, and challenging anyone in the city to a battle. The late rapper Shane Redway once told me the story of how he beat up Tory at the Square One Shopping Center in Mississauga after a rap battle.

But it didn’t matter how many times he got knocked down, Tory Lanez was determined to be a mainstream rapper by any means. He had been trying to break out in Toronto hip-hop since before Drake was known as the “big eyebrows, ugly sweaters” rapper. Tory would be in California, Atlanta, Florida, anywhere he needed to be in order to meet with people like Sean Kingston or Soulja Boy and work with them. The fact that anyone took a chance on this kinetic ball of energy with his crooked teeth and receding hairline speaks to the sheer determination he had. There’s a lot of things you can call Tory Lanez, but lazy isn’t one of them.

Eventually Tory Lanez did break out with “Say It”, a sample heavy hit that put him in the lane of tough guy faux-rap R&B singers like what Chris Brown imagined himself to be. Since that moment, he continued to rise higher and higher in (social) stature until he found himself in an altercation with Meg Thee Stallion, in front of a disapproving judge, and a corresponding jail sentence. Now that Tory Lanez has fallen victim to his hubris, it’s worth examining what went wrong from a macro and Toronto-centric viewpoint.

In some ways, there’s no other way Tory’s rise in the last decade could’ve ended. He is the icarus that flew too close to the solar body of clout. The same “all about the numbers” quantification he rode to cultural success is the one that made him think that getting too drunk at a pool party with the world’s biggest celebrities in attendance was a good idea. It’s also the same state of mind that makes someone think that “bitch I’m from Canada!” is a worthy rallying cry before shooting someone in the foot. Tory Lanez was successful and corny in the way that only a man from the “new Toronto” could be.

Tory Lanez's rise and fall is a story of hubris and the dangers of chasing success at all costs. A product of Toronto's "new era," Tory embodied the city's cultural brain drain and obsession with numbers, leading to a reckless mindset that ultimately led to his downfall. His story serves as a cautionary tale for a city struggling to find its place on the global stage, facing the looming fear that it may always be just a stepping stone for those dreaming of bigger things.

In 2011, I arrived in Toronto just as the city was undergoing a transformation thanks to the short-lived OVOXO partnership. It wasn't until I became the Vice Editor in 2014 that I truly understood the inner workings of Toronto's cultural export factory, which was responsible for pumping out numerous Billboard hits. Until 2018, the majority of Toronto's cultural exports came from the downtown core. The world was introduced to Drake's transformation into a rapping mob boss through the "Headlines" music video, featuring the bravado of men from the notorious Kingston/Galloway region in the East End. Meanwhile, The Weeknd's lore was traced back to the West End, specifically the famous "House of Balloons" on Spencer Avenue in Parkdale that served as a location for after-parties.

Even along the fringes of rap music at that time, Toronto’s downtown was still well represented. Jazz Cartier claimed Kensington Market and “downtown” as a concept in his videos. Sean Leon dubbed his collective the “Parkdale Cartel” after the location of his (different) Spencer Avenue apartment. Jimmy Prime and the Prime Boys name-checked The Esplanade as much as possible through the sonic offerings of Jimmy, Donnie, and Jay Whiss. But it was Halal Gang that would serve as not only the ultimate catalyst for change in Toronto, but also as a cautionary tale.

In the era where Drake's level of polish had become the norm, the rise of Halal Gang was unusual due to their guerrilla tactics. In the past, Toronto rappers were known for creating quick, sloppy music videos, a tradition that dates back to the days of Ed the Sock as a VJ on Much Music. However, with the convergence of technology, an Airbnb could now serve as the set for a music video that went viral on YouTube, made with a rented camera. This was the case with Smoke Dawg's video for "Trap House," which was a huge success and helped put Regent Park’s Halal Gang on the map in 2015.

Compared to the Prime Boys, with their polished art direction and cohesive black and white aesthetic, Halal Gang’s rough veneer gave them a level of street credibility. Tragically, this rough exterior would ultimately result in the untimely death of Smoke Dawg, who was gunned down on Queen St West in 2018 by a rival from the Northside Jane's Driftwood region. This event marked the peak of Toronto’s worst year for gun violence since “the year of the gun” in 2005. It was also the unofficial end of downtown's reign over the rap scene, as the sound drifted towards the "Up Top" part of the city's notorious Jane & Finch area.

The video for “Wass Gang” was released a little more than three months after “Trap House” and featured the same guerilla filmmaking, this time set outside the Metro Housing in the Driftwood area of Jane & Finch. The song was led by Robin Banks on the chorus, a rapper who was in the middle of an underground run that drew the attention of Drake–who referenced the being TT (too turnt) in songs and instagram captions–and Meek Mill, who was rumored to be interested in signing Robin Banks to a deal. But the song and video would mark the unofficial introduction of North Side Jane as a powerhouse in Toronto rap, as well as the official introduction of Pressa and his melodic taunts, who was featured in the posse cut alongside FB and GD.

Northside Jane became known for rappers Pressa, Why-G, Robin Banks, Burna Bandz, Northside Benji, and the Tallup Twins. All of these artists have achieved at least one viral hit, and still rack up decent streaming numbers on DSPs. The artists capitalized on the fame of their neighborhood's criminal reputation, but also had their own share of drama. A shooting left Robin Banks paralyzed in 2017, one of the Tallup Twins died under mysterious consequences after a shootout in 2020, and Why-G was allegedly caught on camera in broad daylight performing a shooting (he would later beat the charges).

After Smoke Dawg's death in 2018, Northside Jane took it as a reason to celebrate. In typical Canadian media fashion, Smoke Dawg became a celebrated rapper the second he died, attracting attention from the same publications who never showed him any support at any other time in his career. Still, the respect that came out for Smoke Dawg was tremendous and may have played a role in changing the Toronto rap scene. The shooter was from Driftwood, a rapper by the name of 21 Neat. The details of the timeline are disputed, but the end result was the death of Smoke Dawg and a member of the Prime collective, Kosi. Footage of the gruesome aftermath was recorded on Snapchat and circulated like a blunt in a city-wide cipher, adding a layer of cruelty that could only be found in the digital age.

The events kicked off what’s best described as the “Clout for Crime” era in Toronto that saw Smoke Dawg get fatally shot, Casper perform a brazen police chase through downtown construction lots, and led Top 5 into a transformation from a shy kid who could barely put a sentence together when I interviewed him in the Vice office in 2015 into a self-described demon (it’s worth noting that this was also fueled by seeing his brother Foolish die as the result of gun crime). It's debatable whether this era of Toronto rap is still ongoing, but the loss of potential is best exemplified by one rapper and his untimely death: Houdini.

Houdini was an effortlessly cool Brampton rapper who was adopted by the Driftwood crew due to a family connection. Despite Pressa's success with a tour in Europe with Drake, Houdini became the go-to leading figure for the group, with his energetic and lanky presence commanding attention in music videos and social media posts. At the peak of his career, Houdini reached more listeners than any other Driftwood rapper at the time. Much has been written about Houdini’s early life, and I’ll defer to others on the topic as I was incarcerated for the peak of his popularity, as well as his death.

So what does Tory Lanez have to do with any of this? He also fell victim to the same siren’s song in the New Toronto that resulted in the Crime for Clout era, just on a more global platform. He’s also much more directly connected to Driftwood than rappers like The Weeknd and Drake, the latter of which smartly distanced himself publicly after receiving blow back for touring with Pressa who was accused of heinous kidnapping charges, and limited his support to a throwaway lyric or two in the coming years.

In the 2014-2017 era, The Weeknd and Drake recognized the untapped talent in their home city of Toronto and sought to tap into it like the Australian government mines its beaches for coal. Drake kept his usual ear to the scene, resulting in his OVO Sound imprint on Warner becoming a home for Majid Jordan, Roy Woods, and PartyNextDoor. It also allowed him to touch pass songs like “Sweeterman” that signaled that the global rap superstar still knew what the local kids were listening to. Similarly, The Weeknd and his XO juggernaut worked out of their Ottawa fortress to recruit NAV, an unorthodox rapper who achieved (what I personally think) is an unbelievable amount of support from fans and peers.

The odd man out from this gold rush was the one who was never really in the city to begin with. Tory Lanez, a late arrival to the party, scrambled to align himself with whoever was left from the cultural scrape conducted by the former conglomerate of OVOXO. At this point, the only individuals left with any buzz in the city that Tory could work with were the Driftwood boys. Tory Lanez hopped on the remix to Pressa’s “Canada Goose” and Houdini’s “Here It Goes,” unintentionally making his mark on both bookends of the moment, but he never fully adopted the scene in a way that gave his name any more traction in the city than he would’ve got by just being a successful American rapper.

Nobody in Toronto ever mentioned Tory’s “One Umbrella” as a collective or talked about the “New Toronto” with any sincerity, because his attempt to astroturf the scene were easily read as phony. Rumor had it that he wanted to sign CMDWN at one point, but even that fizzled out as the duo sought brighter pastures. A Grammy-winning producer once told me that Tory Lanez booked studio time with them only to draw pictures of ducks in the software used to make beats. But still, despite all of this, Tory Lanez continued to find success in music by focusing his efforts on clout chasing in America. This chase is exactly what brought him to Kylie Jenner’s pool party on the night he shot Meg, and the reason he was sent to prison for his actions.

We live in an era of obsession over quantification. The concept of "clout" has emerged as a way to gauge how much attention something has received online, with the assumption that this attention will ultimately lead to increased music sales. However this focus on metrics has led to some Toronto rappers becoming little Nate Silvers, all obsessed with numbers and analytics and metrics and data. In this context, Tory Lanez's rise to fame can be seen as a reflection of this obsession with quantification and the pursuit of viral fame.

This is not a judgment of Tory’s art. There are some good Tory Lanez songs and guest verses. You also have to applaud the hustle of someone who went from working with Soulja Boy and Sean Kingston to being one of the biggest rappers in the world. I also think this is not the end for him, and when he eventually gets deported to Canada he’ll still be welcomed by anyone looking to take advantage of his connections for their own personal gain.

Also, this is not a problem unique to Toronto; other cities like New York and Chicago have their own issues with violence in the projects breeding both newsworthy incidents and talented rappers. However, these cities have the infrastructure to allow their rappers to have a foot in both the street and the music industry. Toronto, on the other hand, barely has the size necessary for this, not to mention it being the only viable rap market in a country that gets most of its culture from The States. This allowed Tory Lanez to parachute in from America and co-opt the hottest local artists, further entrenching the violent tactics used by Driftwood to achieve their goals. While Chicago may have a Durk that speaks to the streets but also offers a way out, they also have the ability to nurture and create a Common or Chance.

Toronto's potential for a thriving cultural scene was hindered by its inability to put aside petty disputes, leading to a lack of infrastructure for the city's talented artists. Instead, the existing Toronto-centric infrastructure that has sprung up, the IG meme pages, the YouTube pages, the subreddits, have become rotten, contributing to Toronto's reputation for violence and sensationalized headlines.

When Rolling Loud came to Toronto in 2022 for the first time ever, Tory’s set was on at the same time as the Driftwood showcase. Although Tory’s show was on the mainstage while Why-G, Pressa, and Burna Bandz took the side stage, the Northside Jane showcase drew a majority of the energy that night. The attention that Driftwood, an objectively talented collective, was able to garner over the course of that night makes it difficult for anyone to say that they didn’t take the right path. Attention speaks volumes, and the kids from Driftwood seem to know how to garner it.

That’s why the weirdest thing about the Tory Lanez case to me was when he said “bitch I’m from Canada!” like that meant something or like he meant something to it. For the lack of identity inside of him to have been so misguided that he not only believed that he represented his country but was loved by it, almost makes me feel sympathy for the man.

Tory Lanez's rise to fame and subsequent fall from grace can be seen as a reflection of the decline of Toronto as a cultural hub. From the city's once-thriving music scene to its current state of disarray and violence, Tory Lanez embodies the changes that Toronto has undergone in recent years. His rise to fame, fueled by a desire for quick success and a willingness to do whatever it takes to attain it, mirrors the city's rapid descent into a place where talent is overshadowed by a focus on numbers and popularity. In the end, Tory Lanez's fall serves as a cautionary tale for those who would follow in his footsteps, and a reminder of the importance of staying true to one's art and values. Tory Lanez's story is not just a personal tragedy, but a reflection of the decline of Toronto.