Production-wise, things are a bit more interesting – the twisted soul samples of ‘Sandra’s Rose’ and ‘Emotionless’ rival that of ‘College Dropout’-era Kanye, while there’s ambient minimalism (‘Peak’), old-school turntablism (‘In My Feelings’) and deranged, joyous fairground vibes (‘Ratchet Happy Birthday’) elsewhere. “Treat you like princess / Rest in heaven, Diana,” Drake raps on ‘Peak’, before feeling the need to remind the listener for the millionth time that he’s been to London: “England breeds proper girls / Where are all your good manners?”. It’s not just monotony though, some lines are outright stinkers. Lyrically, Drake too often resorts to variations on the same kind of topics and themes that we’ve become accustomed to – the claustrophobia of fame, the emptiness of loveless relations, the underdog becoming the top dog. For much of the record, Drake sounds like an artist treading water, one sticking to tried and testing methods. Instead, the album sounds like a missed opportunity – and he largely ignores the public circus. It was Drake’s chance not only to rebuff his critics, but also cement his place at the top of the game. ‘Scorpion’, then, was the perfect mouthpiece for a response. Releasing a short statement in an attempt to explain the now-infamous blackface photo, Drake didn’t address the claims that he had secretly fathered a child and remained largely silent in the build-up to his album’s release. It was this latter revelation that spawned all the headlines, contradicting the good-guy public image that Drake has carefully molded for himself.
Meanwhile, the track itself centred around claims that the rapper had a son, named Adonis, with Pusha rapping on the track: “You are hiding a child, let that boy come home / Deadbeat mothafucka playin’ border patrol”. Its artwork used a decade-old photo of Drake in blackface, aimed to rile those who say the star doesn’t do enough to support the black community or address black issues publicly or in his music. Of course, it hasn’t, but ‘The Story Of Adidon, Pusha’s sucker-punch, has wounded the rapper, exposing certain weaknesses. Clearly irked by some (fairly rhetorical) shots fired by Pusha T, Drake put “album mode” on hold and allowed himself to become embroiled in a public spat and diss track exchange that many saw as marking the start of his demise. Summer 2018 was, once again, looking like it belonged to Drake.īut then there was a bit of a wobble.
This was soon followed by ‘Nice For What’ – a vivid, prismatic glo-up anthem espousing (slightly mansplainy) platitudes of female empowerment and giving head-nods to the New Orleans bounce scene. ‘God’s Plan’, a relatively Drake-by-numbers single released as part of the two-track ‘Scary Hours’ EP back in January, saw the rapper break yet more streaming records, becoming his biggest hit since ‘One Dance’, perhaps even ‘Hotline Bling’ (thanks, in no little part, to its tear-baiting accompanying video). You see, it’s been a strange year for the star so far. It pretty much sums up where Drake finds himself at this moment in time – in that precarious position at the very top of the rap/pop summit, where it’s so easy for you to stumble and lose your footing. On ‘Survival’, the first of 25 tracks from Drake’s colossal, dual-sided album ‘Scorpion’, the rapper opens by directly addressing his current state of affairs: “All of this disorder, no addressin’ / The crown is broken in pieces, but there’s more in my possession”.
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