Drake’s Certified Lover Boy: A Deep Dive into the Songs and Album Review

Drake’s Certified Lover Boy (CLB) arrived after a three-year wait, immediately cementing its place as a monumental release. Anticipation had been building, and upon release, the album dominated conversations across the music landscape. It was clear from the outset that CLB was designed to be massive, a meticulously crafted project aimed at reaffirming Drake’s position at the pinnacle of popular music. The album’s sheer scale and star-studded collaborations guaranteed it would be a significant cultural moment in 2021, and indeed, it became a ubiquitous presence.

But beyond the hype and commercial expectations, the central question remained: what about the music itself? While Certified Lover Boy was critic-proof in many ways, existing in a realm where its cultural impact transcended critical acclaim, a closer examination of the songs reveals a complex and often compelling body of work. Comparing it to more niche or critically lauded rap albums released around the same time misses the point. CLB operates on a different plane, aiming for broad appeal while still showcasing Drake’s signature sound and lyrical preoccupations.

Alt text: Certified Lover Boy album cover featuring twelve pregnant women emojis in a grid, artwork by Damien Hirst.

Certified Lover Boy is an expansive album, clocking in at nearly an hour and a half. This length naturally leads to fluctuations in quality. However, within this extensive tracklist are moments that reach the heights of Drake’s discography. Conversely, there are stretches that feel less inspired, falling into familiar Drake tropes that, while satisfying to some fans, can feel somewhat predictable. Ultimately, Certified Lover Boy is an album that will deeply resonate with Drake’s dedicated fanbase, likely garner admiration from those more ambivalent, and probably frustrate his detractors – a typical Drake release in its polarizing effect.

A key element in the sonic landscape of Certified Lover Boy is the consistent presence of Noah “40” Shebib, Drake’s long-term producer and collaborator. 40’s production throughout the album is a highlight, showcasing his signature atmospheric and textured soundscapes. The opening track, “Champagne Poetry,” perfectly exemplifies this. It begins with Drake rapping over a sample of Masego’s “Navajo,” which itself samples The Singers Unlimited’s rendition of The Beatles’ “Michelle.” Masego receives co-producer credit, highlighting the collaborative and layered nature of the track. Drake’s lyrics in the opening verse are introspective and reflective, touching on themes of personal growth and navigating complex relationships. “Lived so much for others don’t remember how I feel/ Friends that hide places and friends that I hide still/ Still managed to moonwalk straight through a minefield,” he raps, setting a tone of introspective confidence amidst challenges. Midway through “Champagne Poetry,” the beat transitions seamlessly to a sped-up sample of the Gabriel Hardeman Delegation’s “Until I Found the Lord (My Soul Couldn’t Rest).” This beat switch elevates the track, demonstrating 40’s production mastery. “Champagne Poetry” stands out as a prime example of Drake at his best: lyrical dexterity combined with beats that are both sophisticated and emotionally resonant.

However, the initial portion of Certified Lover Boy doesn’t consistently maintain this peak. The album’s first half can feel somewhat uneven, burdened by an abundance of guest features and tracks that seem to prioritize formula over innovation. “Girls Want Girls,” for instance, explores themes of same-sex attraction but with lyrics that have been criticized for lacking depth. “Way 2 Sexy,” sampling Right Said Fred and featuring Future and Young Thug, while undeniably catchy and likely to be a commercial success, feels somewhat formulaic and predictable. Similarly, “TSU” delves into Drake’s familiar territory of dissecting female psychology, a theme that has become a recurring, and sometimes tiring, motif in his work. These tracks, while not necessarily poorly executed, contribute to a sense that the first half of CLB is playing it safe, adhering to established Drake formulas.

Alt text: Drake performing live on stage in Toronto, OVO Fest, with stage lights and crowd visible.

Yet, Certified Lover Boy takes a notable turn in its second half. Emerging from the interlude “Yebba’s Heartbreak,” the latter portion of the album reveals a more ambitious and creatively charged collection of songs. “Knife Talk,” featuring Project Pat and 21 Savage and produced by Metro Boomin, injects a dose of raw energy into the album. It’s a foray into trap music, characterized by hypnotic rhythms and a palpable sense of menace. “7am on Bridle Path” is another standout, a diss track that immediately sparked fan analysis and debate, and also contains some of Drake’s most compelling lyrical moments on the album. His wordplay is sharp and culturally relevant, referencing figures like Giannis Antetokounmpo, Vito Rizzuto, and David Caruso in a series of evocative lines. (“Could at least keep it a buck like Antetokounmpo/ I made north of the border like Vito Rizzouto/ Throwin’ parties in Miami, they lovin’ us mucho/ With the ho ratio, I’m like David Caruso,”).

The most impressive sequence on Certified Lover Boy is arguably the transition from “Fountains” to “Get Along Better.” Notably, “Fountains,” featuring Tems, contains no rapping from Drake. Instead, it’s a dreamy, polyrhythmic track showcasing a duet with Nigerian singer Tems. “Get Along Better,” featuring Ty Dolla Sign, follows and is a soulful, rhythmically complex track with a 12/8 time signature. This section highlights Drake’s ability to move beyond traditional rap structures and incorporate diverse musical styles.

Drake’s strength lies in his stylistic versatility, a quality unmatched in contemporary music. He is not a purist rapper in the vein of some of his contemporaries, but rather a pop synthesist who utilizes rap as one element within a broader musical palette. While not necessarily a visionary innovator like Kanye West, nor a purely technical MC like his mentor Lil Wayne (who appears on “You Only Live Twice”), Drake’s artistry is defined by his open-minded approach to music trends and collaborations. This collaborative nature, while sometimes leading to accusations of trend-chasing, is arguably central to his curatorial approach to album creation.

Since Nothing Was the Same in 2013, Drake’s albums have often presented a tension between his eclectic musical interests and the pressure to embody the “Drake™” persona expected by his fanbase. His most devoted fans see him as an authentic voice of male emotion, often defending him against criticisms of emotional inauthenticity or misogyny. However, Drake’s most critically acclaimed work often emerges when he steps away from this self-imposed archetype. Tracks like “0 to 100/The Catch Up,” “Hotline Bling,” and the entire More Life project showcase Drake at his most innovative and less constrained by expectations.

This tension is palpable on Certified Lover Boy, perhaps most acutely on “Race My Mind.” The song begins as a lush R&B ballad, rich with harp samples and synths, narrating a familiar Drake trope: suspicion and contemplation about a romantic partner. The production is undeniably beautiful, and Drake delivers a strong melodic vocal performance.

Alt text: Drake name-drops Ayesha Curry, pictured here at a basketball game, referencing her in lyrics on Certified Lover Boy.

However, “Race My Mind” takes a turn in its third verse, descending into petty grievances. Drake shifts from emotive singing to lecturing his partner about perceived shortcomings – terse text replies, misspellings while drinking, unsatisfactory selfies, and unfavorable comparisons to his friend’s wife (a reference to Ayesha Curry that drew considerable attention). This lyrical shift can be jarring and detracts from the initial promise of the song. It raises questions about the intended audience for such lyrics and whether this focus on minor interpersonal issues resonates beyond a specific segment of Drake’s fanbase.

This brings us back to the question of audience. Certified Lover Boy undeniably caters to a core Drake audience that appreciates these familiar themes and sonic palettes. However, it also hints at a desire to push beyond these boundaries, particularly in the album’s more experimental second half. A truly exceptional album lies within Certified Lover Boy, buried within its extensive runtime and formulaic moments. The hope is that Drake will further embrace his more adventurous musical instincts in future projects, fully realizing the potential hinted at in the best songs of Certified Lover Boy.

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