Drake sits atop a mountain only about 40 men have ever sat on. There is only one seat for someone like him, and the only place they ever feel comfortable is in charge. Capacity does not exist for upgrades. Any potential is incessantly squandered. I sat through Aubrey’s late-Spring blockbuster, all 2 hours and 30 minutes of it, in an attempt to learn something new. Albums listed in order of listening, many thoughts shared raw as I listened.
Habibti
We know Drake has struggled with women his entire life. For whatever reason, he’s made that a core facet of his persona and continually rehashes it to anyone who gives him a microphone. At no point in this experience, or his career, do the faceless & nameless women breathe air into his story. Instead, it opens an endless pit of questions, allegations, and floating thoughts that continually remain unanswered.
Why did Drake continually hang around young women? Why did Drake ‘expect the Epstein angle?’ Why was Drake credibly accused of sexual assault and settle the case out of court? Why did Drake bring a teenager on stage for a kiss in 2010? Why was Drake in constant communication with famous individuals around their 18th birthday even though he was a grown man? We get it. You love Rhianna. Move on. Tell her, not us. Obviously none of these things come up on Habibti, but all of these things give context of the man attempting to run the continent.
Every sentence is the exact same bar with the meat & potatoes rearranged. If words were food, Drake would be a diagnosed anorexic cutting and shifting vowels around the mouth while everyone is mute. Instead of facing his own thoughts or answering questions, he lashes out in word salads no self-respecting individual would take seriously.
Problems follow me wherever I go…
He crooned. His endorsement is a blessing to those needing it most, and a curse to those who don’t seek it out. To be aligned, slighted, or affiliated with this album is either the grandest moment of your career of the lowest it will get.
While there are cool individual moments, it’s impossible to not think about his age every time his mouth opens. So many of these laments are a 13 year old’s idea of how they think a 22 year old would feel pain or emotional abandonment. Every story about a woman is told by a guy that “got cheated on by my first girlfriend” and still isn’t over it.
One of those cool individual moments, WNBA, combines the ideas of 4 songs into one. This would have remained cool if it was unique in this experience. Another blip of joy came on Fortworth where New Haven, Connecticut was name dropped. He had no reason to do that, or go down a shopping list of places-next-to-the-highway.
This is an album I will never revisit and is a stain on music as a medium.
Iceman
Drake has won everything, has all the power a normal man can ever gain, and can never be satisfied by mortal pleasures. He has collected everything, yet the one thing he lacks will forever preclude his self-actualization: reassurance. His palpable anxiety is so viscerally felt: skin scratched off, no fingernails remain, pace threads mark floors, and Amphetamine bottles rattling. It’s woven, thread by thread, into the fabric of ICEMAN. The only absolution is someone trusted sharing ‘it will be okay.’ That has never happened to Drake, and he must lash like a hit dog to make it right.
Dust was supposed to be an all-time club song, but literally no baddie will ever refrain “Girls from Atlanta call me Santa.” #WE all moved on from these conflicts; he hasn’t. He bewails it, at every opportunity he reminds us of his enemies and how strong he is. Dust is a throwaway track from the last conflict, and is a reminder of how many conflicts have been self-administered.
Whisper My Name‘s beat is genuinely insane, and this would be an all-time Drake song if he had a semblance of humility. There is motivated melody on Janice STFU but all positive momentum is disbarred when Drake starts actually rapping. Even a glimpse of hope must be squandered by our lived reality.
Ran to Atlanta would be an insane club song but instead instead Drake’s cadence is insulting to the educated while refraining his idiom: “ICEMAN TURNT!”
Shabang has maybe the worst 30 bars I’ve ever heard, all in a row. I had to press skip on it. Living in the Drake Era has numerous moments I’ve wished to skip, including Make Them Pay and Burning Bridges.
Drake’s worst addiction is narcissism. An ego fed by triple album listeners cannot be swayed by sensible. He must stimulate his own conceit, and his adderall of choice is beat switches. Every song has a beat switch. Flaunting the gimmick halfway through each song, the destitute can never can fully settle in. Drake’s inner anxiety manifests in his inability to let a melody relax. Drake buzzes around every verse fearful of guests that never arrive or settle. Drake’s addiction mirrors his own distrust in himself. He doesn’t trust the production is good enough. He won’t let it breath. He must suffocate it out before his own paranoia sets in.
On beat switches:
- What Did I Miss? throws out everything remotely good on the switch
- Plot Twist, titled and thematically is the one song that could actually HAVE and WELCOME a change. It doesn’t. The high hats annoy you as you await for it.
- Hearing ICEMAN tainted WNBA
- 2 Hard 4 The Radio is the laziest God’s Plan remake I’ve ever heard, yet after the beat switch it sounds like a bad Baby Keem song
Little Birdie is the most offensive song out of this whole package. There is no reason for Drake to sound like that. I wrote that live on my first listen, I lied. Don’t Worry is actually the most offensive song out of this package.
SOMEONE in the room told Drake to layout ICEMAN for a vinyl loadout. It’s structured like a 2xLP – numerous ‘no chorus raps’ Drake received faux praise for and radio songs splintered every 4-5 songs. Anyone that buys this for vinyl deserves to be put on a federal watch list.
If I wanted to listen to a half-Jewish rapper from a North American metro born in the mid-1980s delivering one-line bars that embraces soul samples, I’m going to listen to Action Bronson (who released Planet Frog on May 8th, go listen). There is no reason for this to exist other than to pollute the ocean, airwaves, and morals of his followers.
MAID OF HONOR
Gordo is the only producer I thought of that would be shameless enough to put his name on this, and I was not surprised to see his name in the credits. For whatever it’s worth, this was the project I had by far the most hope for. Aubrey hasn’t dipped in this well until it’s ran dry, beat the dead horse into heaven, or stepped on rakes that hit him in his face in the style of house. Instead, we have Passionfruit from who cares what that album was called and HONESTLY, NEVERMIND, an album that sounds like gentrification.
Drake at least sounds like he’s having fun on this one! Everything that’s remotely interesting is dripped in something that makes it feel worse — like the production on BBW is incredible. Why is it called that. The entire project is attempting to recreate One Dance or Hotline Bling in 2026. His avarice must be satiated by #1’s, satiated by conquering new sounds, satiated through car stereos. It’s hit chasing dampened by his inability to understand that women are people capable of their own choices.
New Bestie to Stuck is a waste of 11 minutes. You could do just about anything else in those 660 seconds and it would be more productive than listening to these songs.
This entire project leaves me with a horrid taste in my mouth. There is no realm on this planet Drake understands the history, impact, or resistance innate to house music. He’s winking at his audience throughout the entire project; it’s a nod that he can still reinvent himself as needed. He can change his sound, but he will never change the thing that would make his music better. To any avid listener, it’s also abundantly clear the team ran out of ideas halfway through. Bursts of creativity expand the first half, while boredom and nostalgia for 15 minutes ago linger in the latter.
Nobody has dominated the conversation like Drake. Even when he’s losing, everyone is talking about it. Public feud with Pusha T? Media cycle for his child. Public feud with a decade-old rival inevitably resulting in a loss? Bemoan it, cry about it, say the numbers were faked, and get laughed out of any serious courtroom willing to take the case. It’s still a headline. Your enemies have won, yet even on the biggest stage, into loudest microphone, your name is in the article. It’s a continued spectacle, and releasing 3 albums on one day is a tactical expansion of the show.
Drake has successfully flooded the zone. He has a blonde pop peer in this tactic, but a 3-album-release-party is a new variant. Streamers now must discuss nothing but him for 2.5 hours. So much unfettered garbage is difficult to process and limits the overall repercussion of how truly horrid two of these projects were. If they don’t go #1? Media lied, numbers were faked, and the conversation changes again. Maybe the fans can self-select which of these were worth releasing.
The worst part of it all? Living in the shadow of the spectacle. Drake fans and Drake culture live in an alternate reality. Their eyes and ears do not see or hear what is happening in front of them. It is dumbed down for the musically unaffiliated, to see headlines posted by anonymous engagement accounts and think ‘that’s cool!’ All summer you will hear people say “that new Drake?” as a rallying cry to make music good again, as though we haven’t societally grown passed the need for this. Embraced by those emboldened by nescience, those with expanded sexual assault allegations Wikipedia sections, and those with no appetite for other, Drake will remain unwavering. What happens in a post-Drake ecosystem? What power vacuum, inevitably worse and more unpredictable will take hold?
May 15th featured good-to-great music released by: Jane Remover (under the leroy tag), Genesis Owusu, Lil Shine, Bleach 9:3, and The Field. None will receive a thought by those who control capital, instead we’ll have to shut up and dance to Road Trips or Cheetah Print all summer.
P.S. MAID OF HONOR is Drake’s best full project since at least 2017. It doesn’t make it good. I’m also saying this as someone whose favorite Drake songs this decade are Wah Gwan Delilah, Knife Talk (ft. 21 Savage), and Way Too Sexy (ft. Future, Young Thug).
M&Ms: Music + Movies + Etc. 
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