“In this mansion, I’m Macaulay Culkin,” Drake announced a few minutes after his “Her Loss,” a collaborative album with 21 Savage. The reference is useful. Culkin, the ultimate child star of the ’90s, specializes in playing a “big house kid,” allowing a generation of kids to live vicariously as they are. foil thieves or Eat McDonald’s on demand. In recent years, Drake – himself a former child star – has anticipated the exact opposite energy; His privilege and fortune remained, but his music was removed from any traces of joy. Opinions and Adopted Lovely Boy were self-pitying and rehearsed to convince the listener that no matter how sad their late-night texts were, Drake’s late-night texts were sadder. With her “loss” (combined with this summer’s raucous dance-pop rhetoric of “Honestly, Don’t Care”), the mantle of self-restraint faded; Drake conveyed his sense of fun.
If all this so far seems to be treating 21 Savage as an afterthought, it’s because his role in “losing her” is more supportive than leadership. “What a time to be alive,” Drake’s collaborative record with Future isn’t a valid comparison; While “What a Time” came close to something close to a 50-50 split, “Her Loss” noticeably shifts the balance in Drake’s favor, with 21 Savage deployed strategically, sometimes sitting out songs entirely (Drake has four singles; 21 has one song). Even when 21 is present, he gives up on Drake’s most amazing moment; See “Circo Loco”, ill-advised in Daft Punk’s form and the following baffling bars, as Drake appears to highlight her alleged assault on Megan Thee Stallion by Tory Lanez (Meghan responded almost immediately, unreveled).
Although the balance of power here is surprising, and even disappointing at first, it is not inherently unwise. The Atlanta rapper’s albums (particularly “Savage Mode” and “I Am > I Was”) cemented his ability to highlight the strength of his steely menace and cunning sense of humor, positioning himself as equal parts reaper and class clown. But as he calibrated for that polarity, he evolved into an artist with powerful features, extracting his strengths into brief bursts that lend his collaborators both luxury and edge. Its “loss” uses it relatively sparingly, like a seasoning that might ruin a meal if spread too hard.
This apparent imbalance in his face may suggest a lack of synergy; In practice, though, 21 Savage is more of a natural collaborator with Drake than Future, whose stylistic leanings often defined the song at the outset, inviting Drake to descend into hollow parody. “On BS” puts the duo in direct conversation with one another, seamlessly intertwining Drake’s nervous paranoia (“They heard they put some punishment on my name, heard they were plotting on my name”) with the whistle sound of 21 (“If You Knew It tension, don’t come “around me as if it were good”).
Much of her “loss” works on this record, as Drake and 21 discover unexpected connective tissue among their seemingly disparate skill sets. The ominous “Broke Boys” is peppered with 21 brutal, sharp verses with combative Drake Ad-Libs. In ‘More M’s,’ Drake is shocked about his commercial supremacy while only 21 tries to take a drunk passenger home and eat some fried rice, but both come together to harass rivals due to poor album sales.
The nearly seven-minute song “Hours in Silence” draws 21 for a smooth, brief bridge where traditional verse may have de-axised the song; Drake’s extended end hypnotizes the same way the back of “Take Care” was. The song “Middle of the Ocean” (which tastes like pina colada, until its tempo turns into a more luxurious music), offers a sustained throat-cutting verse as Drake compares himself to Pink Floyd and mocks in “Honestly, Nevermind” critics; It all culminated in a conclusion from Birdman (to save the trouble of searching on Google: he is 53 years old).
The weakest extension of its “loss” can often be attributed to a non-adventurous subject. There are fleeting exceptions, as with “3 AM on Glenwood,” 21 Savage’s single piercing its honesty; Elsewhere, in “Spin Bout U,” Drake finally revealed his position on the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v. Wade. But the duo stay largely in their comfort zone, which can have a psychedelic effect (and can lead to unwanted crutches, as when the record slips into casual misogyny).
Despite the apparent stagnation that started prior to this year, Drake is now a recent revitalized, more involved as a rapper than at any time since 2015’s “If You’re Reading This Too Late”, and 21 Savage is just the right sequel to his current energy. . Although it’s not without its pitfalls, “Losing Her” leaves an unshakable impression that, in 2022, Drake does what inspires him rather than pandering. One year after the movie “Certified Lover Boy”, which is a surprising and heartening development.
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