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Posted by: Miss Ifeoluwa« on: July 02, 2018, 02:28:54 PM »Drakeâs fifth proper studio album is richly produced, studded with gems, and grapples with his fatherhood in a way that casts his arrested development into sharp relief. Scorpion, his fifth studio album, isnât entirely focused on the significance of fatherhood. Many of its 25 tracks are built around standard-issue Drake themesâthe audacity of rappers who dare speak his name, the psychic toll associated with dating multiple beautiful women at once, people who use Instagram weirdlyâand the hyper-topical nature of the lines regarding paternity suggest they were added to the album at the last-minute. But fatherhood hangs over Scorpion all the same, casting Drakeâs emotional immaturity into sharp relief. Heâs never been more skilled as a technician or melodicist, and itâs remarkable how many of Scorpionâs 90 minutes are musically engaging. But the kind of juvenile navel-gazing that leads someone to write a line like, âShe say do you love me, I tell her only partly/I only love my bed and my mama, Iâm sorryâ is less compelling when itâs coming from a 31-year-old father than a would-be college kid trying to make a name for himself. Paternity has been a long-standing source of anxiety for Drake, one thatâs persisted as heâs become exponentially more famous. He was already sweating close calls on âThe Resistance,â a gaseous Thank Me Later highlight that references a one-night stand who wishes sheâd kept Drakeâs baby. He bemoaned the paperwork that comes with superstardom on 2015âs â30 for 30 Freestyle,â talking about the paternity tests heâs legally obligated to complete for women heâs never slept with. And the issue resurfaced on this yearâs loosie âDiplomatic Immunity,â a song released when his son was just a few months old: âI got the sauce and now shorties keep claiminâ preggo.â Scorpion invites you to pretend that becoming a dad hasnât been one of Drakeâs foremost concerns for the last decade. He makes the disclosure for the first time on the stunning âEmotionless,â coasting on top of an instantly recognizable Mariah Carey sample: âI wasnât hidinâ my kid from the world, I was hidinâ the world from my kid.â He refutes Pushaâs claim that heâs a deadbeat dad on the opulent â8 out of 10â: âThe only deadbeats is whatever beats I been rappinâ to.â To hear Drake tell it, he canât be bothered to keep their spat going because heâs just too satisfied. âKiss my son on the forehead then kiss your ass goodbye,â he taunts. âAs luck would have it, Iâve settled into my role as the good guy.â Claiming the higher ground is a convenient way to elude the fact that Pusha had the last and most memorable word in their battle, but it doesnât hold up under close inspection. On the odious âIâm Upset,â one of his worst songs ever, he sounds unenthused about the prospect of child support: âCanât go 50-50 with no ho/Every month Iâm supposed to pay her bills and get her what she want⌠My dad still got child support from 1991.â This from someone whoâs settling into his role as the good guy? And itâs hard to overlook the fact that Drakeâs still using his son as a toolâmaybe not to sell sneakers and sweatpants, but to insulate himself from criticism over taking a decisive loss. If you can get past Drakeâs toxicity, youâre free to luxuriate in Scorpionâs sumptuous sound. With glistening production from his favorites in Noah â40â Shebib and Boi-1da, and new faces like the young Memphis producer Tay Keith (the infectious âNonstopâ), Drake abandons the global pop dalliances of 2016âs VIEWS and last yearâs More Lifeâreleases that derived much of their vitality from dancehall, Afrobeats, and grimeâto revisit sounds and structures from his earlier career. The tough-talking, rap-centric Side A toggles between the icy, anxious mood of 2015âs If Youâre Reading This Itâs Too Late and the rich production of 2013âs Nothing Was the Same; the sung tracks on Side B reach all the way back to the moody, nocturnal Take Care, though he sounds less like a lonely sophomore than a zaddy whose heart hasnât totally frozen over. This means that Scorpion is the first Drake album to double back instead of chart a new course, and its conservatism is disappointing given the near-decade heâs spent at pop musicâs vanguard. Splitting Scorpion into two distinct sidesârap and R&Bâdetracts from his pioneering synthesis of those two genres, but the best songs here donât sound like retreads; theyâre the most refined possible expressions of familiar aesthetics. Soulful, sample-centric cuts like âEmotionless,â â8 out of 10,â and the long-awaited DJ Premier collaboration âSandraâs Roseâ are pure comfort food, a reminder that Drake idolized Kanye West long before they became each otherâs nemeses. On the other end of the spectrum, the frosted android choirs haunting âElevateâ and âFinesseâ are as weird and thrilling as any beat youâll hear this year; they sound like Oneohtrix Point Never demos, but they still have a place in Drakeâs sound world. Itâs on Scorpionâs Side B that Drake comes closest to finding his sweet spot, that inimitable zone where aromatherapy candles never burn out and champagne flutes are never left empty. The Michael Jackson âfeatureâ on âDonât Matter to Meâ is a preposterous flexâconsider how many artists have the funds to clear a sample like thatâbut itâs also the perfect exclamation point for a pop song with the warm throb of âHold On, Weâre Going Home.â On the sublime âAfter Dark,â he upgrades Thank Me Later-era slow jams with filthy, funny smooth-talking and assists from the late Static Major and Ty Dolla $ign, this summerâs most valuable utility player. And the few songs that cover new ground are indisputable highlights: âSummer Gamesâ supercharges a garden-variety breakup with new wave dread, and âNice for Whatâ and âIn My Feelingsâ are infectious spins on New Orleans bounce. Cramming in 25 tracks means youâre guaranteed a few dudsâthe cursed, joyless âRatchet Happy Birthdayââbut for a bloated streaming-era release, the batting average here is remarkably high. Scorpion ends with âMarch 14,â an extended reckoning with fatherhood in place of Drakeâs usual state-of-OVO status report. Itâs an appropriate capper for a fascinating, flawed album. He connects his current situationâsquabbling with his sonâs mother, meeting him just once, buying him a storeâs worth of gifts heâs already outgrownâto his recurring analysis of his parentsâ failed marriage: âSingle father, I hate when I hear it/I used to challenge my parents on every album/Now Iâm embarrassed to tell âem I ended up as a co-parent/Always promised the family unit/I wanted it to be different because Iâve been through it.â Itâs some of the most vulnerable writing of his career, and itâs proof that he can still muster the kind of unflinching self-examination that once differentiated him from his peers. And yet, there are chunks of âMarch 14â that just donât pass muster. He describes finding out about his paternity as âthe first positive DNA we ever celebrated,â which is both a remarkably unsentimental way to react to becoming a father and hard to believe given the content of songs like âIâm Upset.â âI got this 11 tatted for somebody, now itâs yours,â he moans, as if regifting your own tattoo is something other than deeply embarrassing. The last thing you hear on Scorpion is an interpolation of Boyz II Menâs tender âKhalil (Interlude).â It's supposed to be an endearing transitional moment: an unexpected, consequential development has compelled music's foremost Lothario to change his stripes. The days of finding âtwo girls that I rope like Indiana Jonesâ and making âthem hoes walk together like Iâm Amber Roseâ are over. Itâs time for Drake to love something other than his bed and his mama. And then you remember that this extended mea culpa might have never have existed if Pusha-T didnât release a diss track featuring a young Aubrey Graham in blackface. Itâs not like Drake needs to serve as a beacon of moral clarity, but this yearâs paternity sagaâand with Scorpion, its ostensible conclusionâhas revealed his shortcomings as a writer and pop personality. Whether itâs 2011 or 2018, youâre getting the same guy: anxious, calculating, and self-obsessed, with a golden ear and a fondness for terrible punchlines. Fatherhood hasnât made him grow upâand if youâve gotten older and wiser, Scorpion just feels like the latest in a series of diminishing returns. Zip Format: Get The Album Here
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