By: Carlos Sucre-Parra/Columnist
Emotions do away with the façade and bring forth both the beautifully tender nature ofpeople and also the bitter, ugly resentment.
With that being said, it must be truly exhausting to be Drake;his perpetual cross of sensible yet approachable, constantly hurt and reminiscing yet badmouthing past lovers becomes an awkward juggling act.
Drake is walking along a fringe that could label him as either a misogynist or a method actor stuck in a shtick of overtly sensitive boy next door.This is not unlike early boy bands of years past with predefined roles and personalities or his character in Degrassi.
“Take Care” is Drake’s second full length effort, featuring a long list of producers and contributors to what could be considered his triumphant return. Thematically speaking, the album feels hollow; it is an amalgam of braggadocio and self pity that draws away from what could have been a far stronger effort.
Instead, he gives the listener an 80-minute long look into an emotionally stunted individual who often lost in the mirage of newfound wealth and followers while never quite developing his own value on the tracks. He sounds like a guest on his own album and does not stand out.
“Take a shot for me,” the starting track, creates the precedent for the rest of the album. The song is a guilt trip where he takes a position of superiority by means of affluence through a barely clever quip: the tax code and a dismissive attitude toward everything other than record sales figures, cash stacks and all material matters as determinant of what makes a person valuable.
Truth be told, Eminem outsold Drake when “Thank Me Later” was released, but it is ultimately a matter of hyperbole for poetic purposes where Drizzy took such liberties on his lines. As a result, we don’t know where to separate the artist from his creation since Drake purports himself as the same overtly emotional individual he presents on records; there’s no Slim Shady, Marshall Mathers or Eminem type of separation with him.
He is left with no choice but to take his entire lyrical content at face value. “Crew Love,” featuring indie artist du jour The Weeknd, further highlights the album’s faults. Despite presenting a heavy bass-driven, extremely marketable tune, Drake drops some of the most lackluster lines of the entire record.
Even so, not all hope is lost in “Take Care.” Where Drake fails to deliver strong lines, he makes up for it with exemplary production value and great guests such as Rick Ross. While Drake continues his soliloquy on how he changed the game and saved rap, much like his fellow label mate Lil Wayne — or any other rapper alive for that matter — Ross delivers what can be considered the best bars of the album.
In combination with the massive crescendo from the choir in the background, the bars bring in a larger-than-life feeling that is otherwise absent from the record.
It is somewhat puzzling to listen to material claiming to deal with emotions and the drama of reality thatis disconnected from everyone else’s world other than the creator. “Take Care” offers the image of a King Midas with serious interpersonal issues and sounds more like a heartbreak album than a celebration of his success.
This not to say this is a bad record — it isn’t. “Take Care” is adequate at best and unimaginative at worst. There is little to praise in a record where the production takes precedent over the lyrics. It’s truly an unbearable burden to be Drake.
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