That’s not really debatable at this point.īut public opinion of Aubrey Graham has taken a noticeable turn for the worse after the disappointing What a Time to be Alive and the lackluster Views. At this point, it seems the question is if, not when, he returns to making music for a reason.ĭrake will go down as one of the greatest, most influential musical artists of all time. With More Life, the long, cold wait for a carefully crafted Drake album continues. Like Views, it feels similar in nature to the quantity-first, quality-second approach of someone like Future instead of an artist with true tastemaker status and unquestionably grand ambition. And at 22 tracks, less than a year after his last work and at this height of his fame, More Life puzzles me. Maybe he knows it’s not his best.īecause it certainly isn’t. One can’t help but think that maybe Drake was just hesitant to give this collection the label of “Drake album” and the expectations that come with that. The other theory for the playlist label points to a bigger picture. Calling it a playlist enforces the idea of letting the music play naturally, untouched, over the course of 81 minutes instead of picking it apart. Like its predecessor, this release is long and atmospheric, better for post-game soundtracking than headphone scrutiny. One theory could be built around the fact that there aren’t many clear hits present. What does that mean? Outside of its seamless transitions and the fact that one song doesn’t really belong to Drake at all (Sampha’s “4422”), it’s unclear what makes this a playlist instead of an album. The key to understanding More Life may just lie in its unique label as a playlist. At a certain point you can’t help asking yourself, “Wait, it’s weird when Drake raps in a fake accent, right? Like objectively strange. In this unflattering new light, everything looks uglier, including the clear attempts at globalization he makes on this album. Suddenly we’re back in the land of ex-girlfriends, rich guilt and drunken musing. Later in the album on songs such as “Gyalchester” and “Nothings Into Somethings,” we get a creeping sense of laziness, carried by themes we all associate with Mr. There’s a sure sign of effort and innovation in all of them.
It’s not just the island vibes that carry these songs. Good enough, in fact, that I realize now I should’ve typed the first 100 words of this review, stopped suddenly and then ran that lead paragraph back just as an homage. And that first minute of “Passionfruit”? Superb. The Jorja Smith duet “Get it Together” is exceptional, sneakily making a stronger case for itself as the album’s best track with each repeat play - much like “Too Good” did on Views. It’s within the confines of that early vibe that most of More Life‘s good is concentrated. Let’s start with the good, though, because apparently Drake needs the love. By track eight of this 22-song collection, it becomes unfortunately apparent that winter is coming. And in the 6, heat doesn’t last for long. But, in case you hadn’t heard, our man is from Toronto.
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