Drunk Off Power: Who's Bigger, Jay Z or Beyoncé?

Using a v. scientific method to definitively determine who runs the Carter household.

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Complex Original

Image via Complex Original

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Disclaimer: If you get upset over arbitrary determinations arrived at via arbitrary criteria only employed to fit an author’s arbitrarily decided upon narrative, the following piece contain triggers you will not enjoy. Sorry.

If the Grammys proved anything, it's that Jay Z and Beyoncé are just better. (Remember, they started and then, via their excellence, ended the event within the span of one song.) They are better than everyone. Oh, you do one thing really well? And it's convince new girlfriends to watch The Wire? That's great, and it's an important service, but you don't do that half as well as Jay Z and Beyoncé just, you know, exist.

But which star shines brighter? Who is bigger, Jay Z or Beyoncé? 

We can determine who's currently earning more (Beyoncé), who has more #1 records (again, Beyoncé), and who has performed at more weddings in Kazakhstan. But who is the most important? Who has contributed more to our culture? In all likelihood Jay Z gets the big piece of chicken in the Carter-Knowles household—Beyoncé is, you know, from the South—but who actually deserves it?

Let’s see.

Written by Damon Young (@VerySmartBros)

RELATED: 10 Things Jay Z Did In the '90s That He Would Never Do Today
RELATED: It's Mostly Tha Voice: Why the Music (Yes, Music) of "Beyoncé" Matters 

Cultural Influence That Doesn't Really Have Anything To Do With Their Music

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Who made you buy more shit?

The first of the many forgettable Jay Z/Beyoncé collaborations on Jay Z albums (more of that later), 03 Bonnie & Clyde managed to be so forgettable that it became unforgettable. No one will ever forget how forgettable that song was (especially because they have a great collab out now, which makes a dud like this an even bigger head-scratcher). And yet. Despite the song’s aggressive forgettableness, the video impacted America in a way few others have.

If you recall, Beyoncé appeared wearing shoes that looked like someone got high, glued stiletto heels to a pair of butter Tims, and tried to smoke those shows. But before any of us could ask, “What the fuck did Tina design for her feet this time?,” Jay Z addressed our concerns:

“Manolo Blahnik Timbs, Aviator lens 600 drops, Hercedes Benz/The only time you wear Burberry to swim…” 

Soon after the video premiered, you began to see these shoes. And by "see these shoes," I mean spot these fuckers like a paranoid schizophrenic finding signs of the moon hoax in his/her breakfast cereal. Which is to say, everywhere.

It didn’t matter that only 1% of them were actual Manolo Blahniks, or that 40% of them were Steve Madden knockoffs, or even that the other 59% were either bought at Rainbow or outside of a barbershop bathroom. For a period of three years, you could not leave the house without seeing a woman in a pair of brown or pink or blue or camo Timberland heels. One two-second appearance in one forgettable video for a forgettable song changed the footwear of an entire nation of women for 36 months. Which is a crazy, almost Manchurian Candidate-level of influence.

But this pales in comparison to what Jay Z did for phones.

Although the monstrosities we carry now suggest otherwise, there was a time when the smallest, slimmest, and sleekest cells were considered the best.

And then the “Excuse Me Miss” video happened. See, during the “Excuse Me Miss” video, Jay Z texts something on his T-Mobile Sidekick.

And then everybody wanted a T-Mobile Sidekick. Like, everybody. No one cared that the display was ivory and Matrix green, or that they broke 17 times a day, or even that you had to carry it in your pocket because having it on your belt clip would have given dozens of small children concussions.

It allowed you to text easily and get on the Internet and be the pretentious dick at the club checking ESPN in the middle of the dance floor because he knows it’ll have some misguided person thinking he's important even though he spent all his money on the latest replacement Sidekick.

Sidekicks eventually went out of style, but the phone's popularity indirectly led to the ubiquity of the cumbersome, do-everything smartphone—a trend that 1) has continued on for over a decade, and 2) can be indirectly traced back to Jay Z.

Edge: Jay Z 

Appearances On Each Other's Albums

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Who utilizes the other partner better?

Two facts: The songs on Jay Z albums that feature Beyoncé suck. The songs on Beyoncé albums that feature Jay Z do not.

"'03 Bonnie & Clyde" (from Jay Z's The Blueprint 2) = sucks
"Hollywood" (from Jay Z's Kingdom Come) = sucks
"Lift Off" (from Watch the Throne) = maybe it doesn't suck but still kinda whatever
"Part II (On the Run)" (from Magna Carta Holy Grail) = sucks

"Crazy in Love" (from Beyoncé's Dangerously in Love) = amazing
"That's How You Like It" (from Beyoncé's Dangerously in Love) = v. underrated
"Deja Vu" (from Beyoncé's B'Day) = transcendent
"Upgrade You" (from Beyoncé's B'Day) = essential
"Drunk in Love" (from Beyoncé's Beyoncé) = basically the new national anthem 

Edge: Beyoncé

Level Of Standom

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Who inspires more stans?

Like most rappers, Jay Z has many nicknames. Unlike most rappers, people actually use them. (Every time Lil Wayne reminds us about “Tunechi,” it feels like Gretchen from Mean Girls trying to make “fetch” stick.)

Though Jigga is used most often, none are as important as Hova. Why? Well, remember last summer? When Yeezus dropped and everyone was pissed at Kanye for calling himself God in “I Am a God?” Well, during that week, I had a back and forth with a friend who argued Jay Z would never be that arrogant.

Friend: “I know Hov is arrogant. But he ain’t never take it that far, D. You gotta admit that, at least.”

Me: “YOU JUST CALLED HIM HOV! WHICH IS SHORT FOR HOVA! WHICH IS SHORT FOR JEHOVAH! WHICH IS GOD’S ACTUAL NAME! WHICH IS WHAT JAY Z HAS ASKED US TO CALL HIM FOR THE PAST 15 YEARS!"

Somehow, Jay Z has managed to manipulate his fans—myself included—into calling him God without us realizing that we’re calling him God. This, not the diamond sign or the disappearance of Amil, is the best evidence that he may be a member of the Illuminati.

And yet, when considering Beyoncé’s stans, I’m reminded of a line from The Usual Suspects, when Verbal Kent first tells Agent Kujan about Keyser Soze: “Keaton always said, ‘I don't believe in God, but I'm afraid of him.’ Well, I believe in God, and the only thing that scares me is Keyser Soze.”

Well, I also believe in God. But the only thing that scares me is the BeyHive. I mean, did you see what they did to Target?

Edge: Beyoncé

Job Creation

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Who's created more jobs?

Beyoncé is indirectly (OK, maybe directly) responsible for the careers of Solange, Kelly Rowland, Michelle Williams, Keri Hilson’s therapist, and that “lawyer” the Knowles family paid to convince Lauryn Hill not to file taxes for four years. She also employs an all-female band. Which is fucking awesome.

Jay Z is responsible for Kanye, though. Which, depending on how you feel about Kanye, is either the best or the worst thing Jay Z has ever done.

Edge: Jay Z

Winner: Beyoncé

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Winner: Beyoncé

So, it looks like we have a tie. But I have to give the decision to Beyoncé.

Why? Well, the Obamas and the Carters are apparently BFFs. Two super rich and super influential black families with Illuminati ties and daughters named after yoga poses. But if the Obama’s ever get divorced, and have to do that thing newly broken up couples do when they have to figure out who “keeps” particular mutual friends, the bigger fight will be over Beyoncé. Without her at his side, he never steps foot in the White House. Which matters more than the Sidekick.

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