Aubrey, 6God, October’s Very Own, Wheelchair Jimmy, King Slime Drizzy — whatever you know him as, Drake has put together a legendary career of nearly 20 years defined by immense public popularity, cementing himself as perhaps the most commercially successful MC in my listening rotation.
From the sensual R&B vibes of “Take Care” to the hard-hitting trap bangers of “What a Time to Be Alive,” I’ve enjoyed a sizeable portion of his pre-2018 output. I’d be remiss, though, not to express my disdain for the formulaic nature his work has taken on in recent years, marked by unnecessarily prolonged runtimes, meandering sequencing and corny wordplay.
Drizzy’s initial tease of “For All the Dogs” promised a return to his older self. Many fans thus expected a masterclass in boastful aggression, something reminiscent of 2015’s “If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late,” arguably Drake at his most lyrically confident.
Others looked forward to thoughtful production choices like those heard in the lush pads and layered synths of 2013’s “Nothing Was the Same.” However, besides an admirable start, we were instead given yet another perfunctory and bloated tracklist à la 2021’s “Certified Lover Boy” that does little to push the musical needle in any favorable way.
One of Drake’s most notable proficiencies lies in his ability to craft a compelling intro track. Here, he begins strongly with “Virginia Beach,” a sincere, albeit samey, cut backed by an alluring, chopped-up Frank Ocean vocal sample. Teezo Touchdown presents a terrific feature as he effortlessly floats over tight, spiraling keys on the chorus of “Amen.”
The album then takes a nosedive, effectively canceling out the quality of the opening. “Calling For You” includes a drawn-out interlude in which a woman whines about airline travel. Although this serves as a shot at fellow rapper Pusha T, it’s quite a slog, and 21 Savage’s subsequent verse does little to save the track as he habitually spits about his opps and preferences in women.
Things pick up on “First Person Shooter” as J. Cole provides arguably the best verse on the project, followed by a slick beat switch.
“IDGAF” showcases a tastefully atmospheric instrumental with a gorgeous trumpet sample. This soundscape is promptly ruined by an average Yeat appearance, dull bars such as “My dawg in the can like a metal lid,” and mixing issues on Drake’s verse.
So far, Drake has put forth a somewhat flawed but respectable effort. “Bahamas Promises,” though, serves as a clear turning point where his standards begin to drastically decline. Drizzy raps about an ex-lover, discussing the “tea” and “broken pinky promises” of their relationship. Put simply, I expect much more sophisticated penmanship than this from a 36-year-old man. “Tried Our Best” offers a more nuanced exploration of the intricacies of love, but it’s difficult to take seriously when preceded by such nonsense — but even this track is not infallible, containing troublesome Drakeisms like “We in the club with your gay friends / Always put you on a straight flight.”
Shoddy writing permeates the latter half of the album. On “Drew A Picasso,” Drake tells of a paragraph he “probably shoulda never sent” to an unnamed partner, whose actions make him “want to die.” On “What Would Pluto Do,” he wonders how a certain romantic situation would be navigated by frequent collaborator Future — a man not exactly renowned for his respectful treatment of women.
As a Houstonian, I didn’t love Drake’s diss of Dillon Brooks on “Another Late Night,” but I appreciated his tribute to the deceased DJ Screw on “Screw The World.” “8am in Charlotte” has a stellar, soulful production courtesy of Conductor Williams, a name typically only associated with the underground. Unfortunately, the subpar instrumentals, lyrical content and features that surround them diminish these commendable moments.
Drake has once again played it safe, crooning about fame or his last failed relationship as opposed to exploring perhaps more pertinent content like fatherhood. Aside from a few key highlights, Drake has completely blown yet another opportunity to grow creatively by turning inward to create substantive and meaningful work, instead providing an occasionally serviceable but more often lamentable product as he begins a recently announced hiatus. I guess it’s his loss.
