Even the Certified Lover Boy gets curved sometimes. He gets faded and in his feelings, has relationships he looks back on with regret and texts women he cares about to no avail. While the title of Drake's seventh studio album Honestly, Nevermind scans as a callous kiss-off in the vein of Future's I NEVER LIKED YOU , it bears little of the self-aggrandizement or hyper-masculine posturing of that album or Certified Lover Boy.
For an artist who's been playing it safe for over a decade, Drake sure does generate a great deal of commotion. His unwillingness to switch up his sound has been the centre of years of countless debates. Recent albums like Scorpion and Certified Lover Boy offered nothing new to the Drake mythos, rehashing his predictable mix of meme-friendly songs, R&B loverboy joints and an introspective, fully-rapped outro.
Over-long, under-ambitious albums packed with catchy singles have followed on from another, largely to mixed critical acclaim, and all to rapturous commercial success. Honestly, Nevermind, Drake 's latest release, serves as a departure. Marked out by ambition, in many ways, this is Drake 's first album that he intended as one. Unlike many of his counterparts, Drake has never written projects for album reviews (2021's half-hearted, quasi-parodic Certified Lover Boy is a case in point).
Drake has long mastered the art of the surprise album. Someone who has long out-grown the need for a decent marketing run up, he tends to hit and run – push the album on streaming platforms, and sit back to watch the discourse burn. Even by his own standards, however, 'Honestly, Nevermind' comes as a surprise – a mere 90 minute warning was given before the record hit Spotify and Apple Music, accompanied by a scattered note that hinted at paranoia, dissatisfaction, and personal disquiet.