Just as Madonna (the very person Drake humiliated in 2015 at Coachella) commenced her 1994 Bedtime Stories, so, too, does Drake begin his fifth studio album, Scorpion, with “Survival.” Addressing the same feuds that we’re all supposed to keep track of (when really, the only person who keeps feuds interesting and fresh in the rap game right now is Nicki Minaj), “Survival” is short and to the point, something of an ironic description considering that this is an epic in sweep and length double album (has anyone even dared to do this since Smashing Pumpkins with Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness?). “This just the intro, let me not get ahead of myself…” he reminds himself on “Survival.” But he does (get ahead of himself, that is), taking on so much in the first four tracks, you’ll be yearning for the days of More Life not being a “real album,” but a mixtape.
As though to iterate how he operates musically, “Nonstop,” emphasizes Drake’s constant movement behind the scenes, leading to his incredible output when we least expect it, comparing his stride to a Rolex: “This a Rollie, not a stopwatch, shit don’t ever stop.” In the first of many songs ruminating on the topic, the monk-like “Elevate” addresses Drake’s woes with women, pursuing them only when they seem to be on the rebound (The Weeknd-style) as he admits, “I already hit her when you left her lonely.” Elsewhere, he veers on the overly self-assured side (the same as he does on the much loved “God’s Plan”), noting, “I wanna thank God for workin’ way harder than Satan/He’s playin’ favorites, it feels amazin’.” Getting a little bit too Jay-Z and Beyonce in arrogance, Drake adds, “All this happen for myself and my family.” Okay.
Once again making everything that was old new again (as he does with the Lauryn Hill sample of “Ex Factor” on “Nice For What”), Drake repurposes Mariah Carey’s “Emotions” on the tongue-in-cheek “Emotionless.” Taking swipes at our imprisonment by the opinions of others, as best exemplified by social media and how it affects our motives and enjoyments, Drake paints the abysmal picture:
“I know a girl whose one goal was to visit Rome/Then she finally got to Rome and all she did was post pictures for people at home/’Cause all that mattered was impressin’ everybody she’s known I know another girl that’s cryin’ out for help/But her latest caption is ‘Leave me alone’/I know a girl happily married ’til she puts down her phone/I know a girl that saves pictures from places she’s flown to post later and make it look like she still on the go/Look at the way we live/I wasn’t hidin’ my kid from the world I was hidin’ the world from my kid/From empty souls who just wake up and looked to debate/Until you starin’ at your seed, you can never relate.”
Drake’s best sampling yet
Apart from the annoying moment when he shades the childless, it’s fairly accurate. Segueing into “God’s Plan” and “I’m Upset,” which everyone already knows enough about at this point, the theme of “8 Out of 10” subsequently reveals Drake’s, at times, reluctance in being aware that he can literally do no wrong in terms of what he releases. Perhaps that’s why he has no patience for dead weight, those in his orbit that he has no use for, realizing, “It’s too late for all that lovey-dovey shit/I’m your brother shit, all that other shit.”
The mob motif persists on “Can’t Take A Joke,” as Drake raps, “Back and forth to Italy/My comment section killin’ me/I swear I get so passionate/Y’all do not know the half of it.” So passionate that we’re, at this point, not even halfway through the album, and Drake’s Scorpio nature is already testing all of our patience in terms of how many layers we have to penetrate in order to get to the core, in turn, only to get stung and pushed away again. Indeed, maybe the only person who can do that without being burned is his mother, so lovingly mentioned on “Sandra’s Rose,” a nod to her profession as a florist. And again, kind of a nod to Italian culture in terms of the mama’s boy thing.
The tone of the album somewhat digresses with the last two tracks, “Talk Up” featuring Jay-Z (despite the shade the latter threw at Drake and Kanye on Everything Is Love for not getting on Tidal train for the long haul) and the somewhat cruelly named conclusion to “disc one,” “Is There More,” once again sampling from one of the greats, Aaliyah and her 2001 track “More Than A Woman.” Which Drake most definitely is.
So “disc two” begins with “Peak,” once again exploring Drake’s near Portnoy’s Complaint-level issues with women. A slowed down track that further proves he can seduce just about any woman despite acting, essentially, like a whiny ass bitch, it transitions into “Summer Games” (exactly what Drake is playing right now). Once again speaking to his issues in romance, Drake sings to one of the most pop-oriented beats of the album, “You said ‘I love you’ too fast/So much for that, girl, summer just started/And we’re already done.”
With lyrics like these, we move seamlessly into “Jaded,” in which Drake persists in parading his vulnerability in an even more bombastic manner than Morrissey as he admits, “Yes I’m hurting, yes I’m jaded (jaded)/Most of these things I don’t wanna say (jaded).” The mood is lightened with the female empowered “Nice For What” (though, of course, we know he’s ultimately only empowering them to his “scorpion”), then taken to a moody level once again on “Finesse,” which, much to The Weeknd’s chagrin, makes some very overt allusions to Drake’s dalliance with Bella Hadid.
Controversy
Possibly the most throwaway track (of which some listeners will argue there are many) is “Ratchet Happy Birthday,” in which Drake goes on about loving the girl that he is no longer his with: “And I miss the days that you was all mine/Haven’t been official in a long time.” Oh Drake how can you be such a player when you have no game?
“That’s How You Feel” completes the notion that this is a Drake album by including Nicki Minaj, or rather a live sample of “Boss Bitch” that speaks to Drake’s fear that his feelings for the object of his affection won’t be reciprocated. Yes, Drake truly has a lot of hang-ups. “Blue Tint” is in direct opposition to these feelings of insecurity with Drake boasting, “Look who I’m fuckin’ again/I had her on ice, but then/I watched the ice get thin/Now that she’s sink or swim.” So which is it, Drake: are you a boss bitch or just a bitch?
We may never have the real answer, but it likely lies somewhere in between the two extremes, the “bitch” side of which is shown on “In My Feelings” (Lana Del Rey already has the monopoly on that song title though), an homage to City Girls that finds Drake exposing the soft, sensitive side of his vocals to a fast-paced beat produced by 40, TrapMoneyBenny and BlaqNmilD.
The most controversial track (apart from the revelations of “Finesse”) on Scorpion is arguably “Don’t Matter” “featuring Michael Jackson.” But that’s because Michael Jackson fans are quite delicate and, in any case, the vocals borrowed were originally from a scrapped recording session with, of all people, Paul Anka (eventually appearing on This Is It), in which Jackson croons, “All of a sudden you say you don’t want me no more/All of a sudden you say that I closed the door.” In short, it demonstrates just how deft Drake has become in wielding the musical samples of others for natural incorporation into his own songs.
Using MJ for “Don’t Matter”
The still living Ty Dolla $ign and Static Major lend Drake a hand as well on the following song, “After Dark,” which is in the spirit of old school 90s R&B (unlike, say Bruno Mars and Cardi B). Once again preferring to revel in his love of strong, independent women, Drake name checks a certain fallen TLC member as he whines, “Late night like Left Eye, I’m creepin’/Assuming the worst ’cause I haven’t heard from you all weekend.” His paranoia about being inadequate shines through once more on a slow jam that also proves he’s fine with being a side piece so long as it’s, “Late night, me and you, got you wet like the pool.” Ah yes, very 90s R&B indeed.
Though the title of “Final Fantasy” would have you believe we’ve come to the end, it’s not quite so–even though this would be a perfectly good place for Drake to stop as it represents the zenith of his Scorpio freakiness as he goes on about his sex stylings (“Neck grab, head grab/Arch back, heart attack, cardiac…Slashin’ like Guns n’ Roses”).
Just as Jay-Z on “Heard About Us” (with the lyric Billie Jean in his prime/For the thousandth time, the kid ain’t mine”), “March 14” also enjoys referencing Michael Jackson’s “Billie Jean” in a manner directly opposed: “She not my lover like Billie Jean, but the kid is mine.” Named in honor of the date Drake flew to Wyoming to record with Kanye West for ye, the song expresses regret, like Lily Allen’s “Apples,” most significantly over how Drake ended up embodying the one aspect of his parents and upbringing that he didn’t want: being a “single father.”
Well, twenty-five tracks later and we still haven’t unearthed any “shocking” epiphanies about Drake. Except maybe this: who else has the courage to just drop this emotional bomb of a record on the world, expecting people to actually parse it for meaning and then, when they do, only come to find that we still have only cracked one very small part of the code that is Aubrey Graham? Or maybe he’s just Canadian and everything should be taken literally.
