Review Summary: From the halls of Degrassi to the age of snowflakes, Drake's always on top
I'm just a music critic from Arkansas, so I might be stepping out of my lane a bit, but the first rule of pop music is not to take it too seriously. In an age where politics and art are inseparable; an age where satire and reality are one in the same, music criticism and the general public's cultural outlook on art itself are threatened with extinction. This is where mammoth artists like Drake come into the equation, assuming mathematics itself has not been banned for hurting people's delicate little feelings.
Drake is not unlike fellow mammoth Kanye West. Two artists share similar goals but have wildly differing executions. While Drake's method of entry for the music world has often damaged his so-called "street cred" from the beginning, it is this same classification of being a jackass that fuels the work of Kanye West as well. Both artists are contrarians. Both of these mammoths have faced cancel culture from all ends of the political spectrum. It seems as if the only defenders left in Drake's corner are the libertarians, likely due to the questionable age differences we all know about when Drake is mentioned. Which only serves to prove my point - even the mere mention of Drake is controversial and evokes feelings of discomfort, but thirty years ago, this type of visceral reaction to an artist was relegated to the most mammoth figures of punk rock. Nowadays we show disdain for those who go against the norms. And that's not to defend Drake's personal life - he is probably a douche, and he needs a severe beating. But if you separate the art from the artist, what you're left with are mammoth hooks, huge choruses, and a memorable pop album that rivals some of Destiny's Child's best work, or even R. Kelly, a huge influence on Drake himself.
Certified Lover Boy is, from its album cover to its lyrical subject matter, about as offensive as a raunchy fart to the face. Maybe that's why it's getting so much backlash. Pop isn't supposed to be upsetting anymore. It has to make us feel "safe."
"But Drake, we already have to deal with Covid-19 and Trump tweets and heckin' boomers! Can't our pop music at least be happy and inclusive and safe?" This is the question asked by thousands of pink-haired beings, and Drake says no with the simplicity and precision of a wooly mammoth hunting the weakest caveman.
Granted, that's not to say the album is without its weaknesses. It's no
Donda, not even at its best. But it doesn't have to be. Kanye and Drake are on different trips but they're still mammoths. It takes a meteor to kill them, but shooting stars fly high.
