Who can you compare Drake to. Drake is like George Clooney in Ocean's Eleven. He'd like to be known as El Jefe, but occasionally the people under him question his theories, and some even come up with slightly better ideas, but in the end, though its not always obvious, ol' George always has everything under control. That pretty much describes the past 18 months for Drake. This time last year, he was rap's next superstar. A solid, platinum-selling debut album, and a record-setting performance on the Billboard charts had Drake being compared to Kanye tirelessly, to the point where Kanye had to admit that he felt Mr. Graham creeping up behind him during his hiatus, in the XXL article he penned. Jay-Z wrote in Decoded that in a year we'd all probably be arguing whether Drake or J. Cole was the best rapper in the game, rather than the argument centering around him & Nas, or Eminem, or whoever. I'm saying all this to say that after Thank Me Later, it seemed like there'd be no dethroning Drake. Until he took a hiatus of his own. And out of the woodworks came Big Sean, J. Cole, Kendrick Lamar, Wale, Wiz Khalifa and a whole host of young refreshing rappers that all dropped albums that made the listening public very aware of their prJesence, and suddenly Drake began to seem like the underdog. Critics began to complain about his emotionally charged lyrics, not to mention the blog-o-sphere had a field day with his Captain Saveahoe-esque r&b ventures, which left Drake with a steep hill to climb once it was announced that his sophomore album would be released by year's end. Slowly but surely, Drake began his ascent. A scene-stealing "All Of The Lights Remix" verse, a crowd pleasing performance on DJ Khaled's most recent lead single "I'm On One", and "Dreams Money Can Buy", gave an interesting insight into the mind frame he was in. His voice bared a hint of hunger but he spoke with an air of arrogance, reminding listeners that this was nothing new to him. One album, one platinum plaque. One line from "Dreams Money Can Buy" always stood out to me. "I've never seen the cars you n*ggas claim to drive. Well sh*t I've seen 'em, you just ain't inside". It spoke volumes about where Drake was so early in his career, and where so many rappers weren't so late into theirs.
One thing that's changed drastically from Drake's Thank Me Later raps & his Take Care raps is clear. On Thank Me Later he hoped to be that dude, hoping he could make an impact. On Take Care he knows he's that dude, and that rap has been waiting on this album to break the monotone. TML was one of the most radio-ready albums I'd heard in recent history. Almost every song sounded like something that could be made into a flashy video that MTV Jams would repeat all day, with the exception of maybe "Karaoke" and "The Resistance". Drake says his debut album was rushed and I partially believe that, but on Take Care, you can hear such a difference in the sound, its almost overwhelming. There were keys, strings, synths, drums and samples in places I would've never believed would make the final cut of a Drake album. You can hear the influence The Weeknd has had on Drake on song's he's not even featured. The somber, confusing state Drake's been in dealing with fame--the same one he portrays on the cover art of the album--bleeds through every verse on the 17 track album, which has its hiccups, but its a phenomenal piece of work.
Fans of old(er) Drake, So Far Gone Drake, are probably going to like this album because of the beat selection, and his willingness to stray away from the commercial-sounding tracks in order to effectively put out the music he aims at releasing and the messages he attempts to convey, and it begins with "Over My Dead Body", the album's intro. Frankly, I like this intro better than what was thought to be the album's intro ("Dream's Money Can Buy"), and Thank Me Later's intro, "Fireworks". The resolute piano melody sets a pensive and tranquil scene, which Drake steps on to with a simple yet interestingly summarizing statement, "I think I killed everybody in the game last year man, f*ck it I was on though. And I thought I found the girl of my dreams at the strip club, mm-mm, fuck it I was wrong though".
Wait, everybody?
After listening to the entire album numerous times, I could find no line that put the entire project into perspective quite like this one. He picked up right where he left off on the final track of TML, "Thank Me Now", where he metaphorically detailed how in such a short time he'd established such a vice-grip on the rap game, you might not have to wait until later to thank him, and elaborating on that sentiment a little more aggressively this time around, Drake raps "Don't make me rip you apart boy, you and whoever gave you your start boy. Oh you wanna be a muhhf*ckin' funny guy, don't make me break your Kevin Hart boy". Straying away from the clever double entendre that is the star comedian's last name, "Over My Dead Body" is exactly what an intro should be. A trailer, a taster and an intriguing insight into what follows.
When I listen to albums, the way they open up is probably the most important thing I look for. If first impression is everything, then an album's first 3 or 4 tracks (depending on the length of the entire project) is extremely important. Take Jay-Z for example, because I think he takes special care with the way he opens up his albums. Think back to 2001's The Blueprint, with the Bink-assisted "The Ruler's Back", and two of Kanye's statement production-credits, "Takeover", and "Izzo". Everything that was going on with Roc-A-Fella, Nas, and rap in general was pretty much addressed in 3 opening tracks, each one coming with a sound not quite yet heard from Jay-Z, or anyone else in New York at the time. Think about 2006's Kingdom Come, with "The Prelude" and "Oh My God" providing the welcome mat for the album, as Jay addressed his age and position in the game with one line. "At first I though rapping at 38 was ill, 'cuz last year alone I grossed 38 mil". Not to mention the epic "Hova Song", the intro to 1999's Volume 3...Life & Times of S. Carter, with the infamous shots Jay tossed at the G-Unit general. These are all moments that will make you remember certain albums, sometimes more than others. Now Take Care is no Blueprint. Sh*t, its not even Volume 3, but Drake has mastered his craft. Transitioning smoothly from "Over My Dead Body", to "Shot For Me", Drake creates a ballad for the women he's dated that he's left an imprint on. It sounds like some of the same old sing-songy material but if you listen closely its a subject he's almost never approached in this manner. "Bitch I made it, yeah I made it", almost spitefully berating his past flings about his present success, before delving into the album's lead single, "Headlines", which we're all probably familiar with. This was Drake saying, "I'm back", and there isn't much more to say about it, so I won't, except for a small criticism. That little poem he spat at the end of the song was well put together, but badly placed. "Headlines" has a much better effect when the beat plays out, showing off Boi-1da and 40's effortless production, rather than cutting it short for the haiku.
Drake actually does a lot of rapping on this album, but you wouldn't be able to tell because of how smoothly everything passes by. The biggest complaint I've heard from those that have heard the album is that its too "soft" or the singing overshadows the rapping that Drake does, but I believe its quite the opposite. When The Weeknd spends almost 2 minutes introducing "Crew Love" with his eerie, stimulating vocals, it enhances, rather than overshadows the intropsective verse Drake adds on to one of the better production jobs on the album, thanks to Doc McKinney, who is a valiant contributor to most of the Weeknd's solo work. "Crew Love" addresses something Drake has been stressing ever since his hour-long "Better Than Good Enough" feature debuted on MTV. On this journey, he plans on bringing everyone important to him along with him for the ride. When he rapped "trust everybody that I came with, they will be here when I ain't rich", on k-os recent "Faith Pt. 2" single, and "Tell 'em I'ma need reservations for 20, I never really been one for the preservation of money" on "Crew Love", its clear that the love he has for the people around him is more than a facade.
I could spend a long time talking about the title track to this album, but I won't. I love the beat. I like the raps, and the song as a whole. But, as a criticism, someone does NOT belong on this song of all songs, and that's where I'll leave it. Its almost a mockery of...never mind.
"Marvin's Room" was a song I hoped wouldn't make the album because its been completely oversaturated, but the fact that Kendrick Lamar comes in on the back end of the track with the "Buried Alive Interlude" is a plus. I thought I was going to hate it, because the first minute or so of it sounds like something Drake should've handled himself. But when Lamar got finally got to rapping, he got off.
The problem with people putting their faith in Drake for a second go-round was his inconsistent dedication to rapping. Within months of dropping TML, he almost dropped an entire project dedicated to r&b, the would-be titled Its Never Enough, and followed by his hiatus, it appeared that as quickly as Drake had gotten on, he had fallen off. The thing I love about the 2nd half of the album is, by the time you've listened to it a few times, there's no doubt in your mind that Drake's heart is still in his rhymes. Even at the end of Thank Me Later, I indulged in thinking that maybe Drake had put the cold raps that gave him his name on the back-burner in turn for the VH1 Top 40-friendly verses that Thank Me Later boasted, but a slew of rappity-rap tracks following "Marvin's Room" helped put that to rest. "Underground King", "We'll Be Fine", "Make Me Proud", and "Lord Knows" all craftily showcase Drake's rapping talent so effectively, I wasn't even bothered by Birdman's redundant outro on "We'll Be Fine", or Nicki Minaj's nursery rhyme of a last 4 bars on "Make Me Proud". I especially liked "Underground King" because it showed somewhat of a careless mood from Drake, which was necessary to counter the heavy heart he displayed on "Marvin's Room", and "The Real Her", which comes later in the album. He blatantly states that all he cares about is "rap and bitches, rap and bitches, bitches and rapping, rapping and bitches until all of it switches", and say what you want, hard to disagree with that.
Rather than refrain from comment on the aforementioned "Lord Knows", which was my original plan, I'll say a little bit. It pleased me that Drake took to what probably is the hardest beat on the album to dispute/clown the naysayers and those who joke on his emotional lyrics. "I know that showin' emotion don't ever mean I'm a pussy, and know I don't make music for n*ggas who don't get pussy so those are the ones I count on to diss me or overlook me".
Damn.
Now, how Just Blaze managed to completely MURK two platinum rap artists without saying a single word is beyond me, but that's what he did, and that's where I'll leave it. I commend Drake for finally addressing the jabs he's taken from social media, but...goddamn. *turns on "Hovi Baby"*.
The 2nd interlude on the album ("Cameras/The Good Ones Go") begins an interesting segment of the album, that finds Drake going into detail about the events leading up to his Young Money signing on "Look What You've Done", a stellar Andre 3000 feature on, "The Real Her" and a Juvenile sample on "Practice". "Cameras" was handled deftly by Lex Luger, who's southern-influenced bass drums provided somewhat of a Sunday afternoon backdrop for Drake to remind people that the things people see on camera is often completely different from reality. "Doing It Wrong" is so unnecessary its actually not funny. What is actually the only song on the album that Drake is completely singing on, is completely redundant. This is one of the few hiccups I mentioned earlier, and it was a filler track I hoped Drake would avoid on the lengthy album. Though the message he conveys is concrete, about the sad state relationships and marriages are in nowadays (Hey Kim), it was something he could've included in another song, rather than use an entire track which really only contains about 30 seconds or so of importance. Don't get me wrong, its not a bad song, but when every other song displays such strong focus and leaves such an unforgettable impression on the listener, this one just passes by passively and unimpressively.
People have been asking me all week whether I think this album is 1. Better than Thank Me Later and So Far Gone, 2. Better than Ambition or Sideline Story, and my answer goes both ways on both questions. Do I think this album is better than Thank Me Later? Yes. Is it better than So Far Gone? To me it equals So Far Gone. I'd have to be completely blown away by a Drake project to admit that its better than So Far Gone, which I wasn't by Take Care, but I was very, very, very, very satisfied. As far as the Ambition and Sideline Story comparisons, which I'm assuming are people wondering if Drake has stepped up to the plate against two of his biggest competitors for the future top spot, I have this to say. On first listen, I likened Sideline Story to a classic album, simply because of the ease with which J. Cole maneuvers through every subject, and every beat, and every hook. Unfortunately for him--and this is a bittersweet criticism--he's done that so consistently for the past 3 years that Cole World wasn't anything drastically different or impressive. He may be a victim to his own success, which is a tragedy. Ambition is a great album to me. Wale may have doomed it to a point with his claims of it being a classic album like Reasonable Doubt, which its not. It may end up falling on the back end of the short list of the great albums of the year, which is huge, considering the projects that have dropped thus far. The thing about Ambition is that it was such a perfect culmination of the last 3 projects he'd dropped (More About Nothing, Self-Made Vol. 1 & ElevenOneEleven), that its hard to deny how good it is, rather than it being More About Nothing with a barcode. Unlike Cole & Folarin, Drake hasn't dropped a free project in over 2 years. Everything he's done, from releasing songs to doing features has been on a pretty exclusive basis. We haven't heard anything Drake's been up to solo wise in about 16 months, and I think that will actually help Take Care flourish.
You can hear the growth in Drake's verses, which was the only thing I was looking for when I pressed play on it. I didn't care about radio singles, I didn't care about features, whether he took an L, didn't care about any of that. I just wanted to hear growth, because without it, Drake'll easily get lost in the shuffle. On "Lord Knows", he rapped "All these rappers coming up on the style that I made up, so if all I hear is me then who should I be afraid of". Uhhhhhh...
...which is the truth, so needless to say its important that Drake doesn't get caught up in having already attained success like a certain vertically challenged dread-headed individual, and keeps his foot on the pedal heading forward. For those pre-maturely calling Take Care a classic, rest assured that is what its not. To take it a little bit further, I'm not quite sure what Drake would do without 40, but that's a different argument for a different post. What Take Care is though, is a testament rapper, who's already experienced the turbulence of a veteran in 2 short years, continuing to grow as a lyricist, and most importantly as an artist.
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