The day after Drake’s album leaks is like postpartum depression. After an extensively calculated nine-month rollout, Nothing Was the Same is finally here, and there’s a void now that there’s no more anticipation. The entire cycle is so poetically Drake. Our relationship with the album is like the rapper’s relationship with fame that he’s so openly wrestled with throughout his career. The album was desired and attained, and now we’re left wondering how to feel.
Two minutes into the album’s opening track, “Tuscan Leather,” Drake says he’s “on a mission trying to shift the culture,” and that’s the statement by which Nothing Was the Same will be measured. This is one of those rare moments when the critical reception of an album is determined by its cultural impact just as much as its sonic quality. “Did it meet the hype?” is as valid of a question as “Is it good?” So much stock has been placed into this record and what it means for hip-hop that “good” simply won’t suffice.
Drake has shifted the culture. The counter to hyper-masculine, aggressive machismo that began with Kanye West a decade ago has come full circle. Drake comes to us as the biggest star to build upon the emotive, anti-gangster sensibilities of West, while offering a style distinct enough that his music is more evolutionary than derivative; that’s compounded by the fact that Drake is a decade younger than West. Kanye’s “She Instagram herself like ‘bad bitch alert’” lyric on “Blood on the Leaves” is voyeuristic. Drake’s “Passive aggressive when we texting / I feel the distance” lyric on “From Time” is narrative. He’s lived a life relatable to so much of rap’s youth-skewing demographic, and by virtue of that alone, he’s put himself in a position where people are desperate to crown him the king — the new most relevant rapper.
Drake’s New Album Resonates Because We’re All Emotional Wrecks
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