Drake’s Certified Lover Boy is a good album – but for an artist of his stature, it could’ve been so much more.
In 2011, Drake released his second studio album, Take Care. For what seemed like an eternity, people could talk of little else. Every word, it seemed, was carefully mulled over – every chord and instrument carefully and elegantly placed. For many, it was by far his best work. The numbers told the same story: Take Care broke records, earning Drake a spot on the most-loved artist list.
The hype surrounding Take Care was immense, the reviews were full of positivity and praise. And in truth, the same can be said for some of Drake’s other notable releases: Scorpion was a cultural phenomenon, Views was widely recognised as a masterpiece, and More Life made Drake a certified London boy to UK fans.
Born out of Lil Wayne’s Young Money project, he’s the biggest artist from the group, seemingly making hits in his sleep. He’s become a master of different cultures, using specific references with ease. In clubs, his songs are always a hit; for long drives, he’s the obvious choice; and for those lonely, romance stricken nights, Marvins Room can always do the trick.
We’ve laughed and danced, reflected and cried to Drake. When it comes to versatility, few – if any – can match the Canadian-born singer. With all that in mind, we were all eager for the release of Certified Lover Boy. His ongoing rift with Kanye West may have added to the hype, with the release of CLB coming only a week after Kanye’s Donda. For Drake, anticipation surrounding his latest release isn’t much of a problem or surprise – he’s Drake. For CLB, his advertising strategy and billboards demonstrated the confidence of a man who knows he’s a pretty big deal. “HEY NEW YORK THE GOAT IS ON CLB” read one sign, with another detailing Travis Scott’s involvement: “HEY HOUSTON THE HOMETOWN HERO IS ON CLB.”
So, when the album finally dropped, we all scrambled, eager to see what masterclass Drake had produced. The result? The album was pretty good, a solid outing and everything you’d expect from Drake. And that, in truth, is the problem: at times, CLB is predictable, a body of work overly familiar to the listener. It’s a good enough album to win him plaudits (of course it is, he’s Drake), with intelligent features adding to the experience. But for Drake, one of the world’s biggest and most-loved artists, it’s too safe an album, with sounds and lyrics, emotions and descriptions that sound the same as any other Drake song or album. For most artists, CLB would be worthy of high praise; for Drake – a four-time Grammy-Award winning artist – it feels comfortable and at times, lazy.
Drake is, without doubt, a genius, an artist with the capability of producing masterclasses. He’s done it on several occasions. As a rapper, he’s as lyrically talented as they come, with the ability to weave words together with ease and a certain panache. He’s as at home talking about romance as he is money, as confident in his ability to woo UK fans as he is with Americans and Canadians. For one reason or the other, that didn’t come through on this album.
On CLB, it was as if he was striving to please everyone, to make a point that his music is for all. That results in too broad and general an album, 90 minutes of good and decent music – but nothing to make you sit up in awe, in total admiration of the artist who made it. He’s a chart-topper and the undisputed God of memes, proving his skills through the marketing and album cover alone. For those reasons, he may feel comfortable enough in playing it safe, in producing an album that doesn’t stretch too far beyond his comfort zone – because, in the end, he’ll always sell.
But in the years and decades to come, that might prove to be the ultimate tragedy of Drizzy: an artistic genius who played too much to the crowd and not to his talents.
Speaking of Drake, here’s a definitive list of his best 30 songs