“Her Loss” is a misfire that hopefully Drake will learn from

In 2006, a Jay-Z, 36, made an excited return to rap music after a brief but celebrated “retirement.” On rich come, the self-proclaimed best rapper alive, tried to strike a balance between club anthems and grown-up reflections. Critical opinion was divided, and rap fans took aim at the closing track, “Beach Chair,” in which the once-big-pimp talked about impending fatherhood while Coldplay’s Chris Martin serenaded him in the chorus.

Sixteen years later, another generational talent marked his 36th birthday^th birthday with the announcement of a new album. However early replies to your loss, Drake’s association with 21 Savage, was defined by his alleged mockery of Megan Thee Stallion. “This bitch lie ’bout getin’ shots, but she still a hengst/She don’t even get the joke but she still smilin’,” he raps on “Circo Loco,” which unfolds over a slowed and chopped sample by Daft Punks “One More Time”. The Texas rapper isn’t the only one Drake insults. Other unconfirmed targets on the album include former hitmaker DRAM (“Try to bring the DRAM to me/He ain’t know how we ‘Cha Cha Slide'”), Serena Williams’ husband Alexis Ohanian (“Serena, your wife a groupie ) and even Brooklyn “Munch” newcomer Ice Spice (“She a 10, tryin’ to rap, it’s good on mute”).

But it’s particularly the furious backlash to the “stallion bar” — Megan’s pained tweets in response, a claim by Lil Yachty that Drake’s words are a standard misogynistic joke about cosmetic surgery and not a specific reference to the Megan-Tory Lanez shooting, all throughout countless rumors deciphering Drake’s intentions – that threatens to be overwhelming your loss. The controversy is reminiscent of angry reactions to Kendrick Lamar Mr. Morale & the big steppers Earlier this year, notably the heated he-said-she-said “We Cry Together” argument and his transphobic confessions in “Auntie Diaries.” The difference is that Lamar invited listeners into an uncensored therapy session and misjudged their level of empathy. Drake’s flaw is that he unintentionally reveals himself as a self-centered idiot who refuses to grow up.

your loss shouldn’t have turned out like this. The original promise was to deepen a partnership that has spawned highlights like 2018’s “Sneakin'” and this year’s “Jimmy Cooks.” Drake’s sharp, clearly spoken Canadian tone blends well with 21 Savage’s dry delivery and Atlanta-via-London inflections, and the latter’s gory but clearly fantastical worldview is in sharp contrast to a superstar struggling to keep his expensive toys , European vacations and erotic dalliances as real life adventures. Plus, Drake and 21 Savage are just the latest to try a well-known hip-hop magic trick: rappers as charismatic sexist hunks charming the world with nonsense about fat butts that have wronged them.

The album starts off promisingly with “Rich Flex” where 21 Savage begins by threatening to “cum all over your ass”. It’s a decent introduction, allowing him to sidestep inappropriateness when he asks, “I know you’re on your period baby/can you suck that?” Generally 21 Savage sounds great on these opening tracks, especially when he is Used “On BS” for hilarious lines like “She will’t/Wear no panties ’round me even if she could/Gave out/Plenty spankings ’til that got it.” This song is one of a few your loss Numbers where the two click at the same time. “I’ll jump onto your song and make you sound like you’re the feature,” raps 21 Savage. “I’ll jump on your song and make a label think they really need you,” replies Drake.

Inexplicably, your loss then turns into a Drake album. He takes on most of the main verses, and 21 Savage is reduced to a supporting role. Some songs are just Drake on their own. (21 finally gets a solo showcase near the end of the album with “3AM on Glenwood”.) As your loss abandons 21’s form of clapping as a playful, insightful exercise, his tone shifting to Drake’s poisonous irritation. He laments disappointing results on the otherwise insightful Middle of the Ocean Honestly forget it, a foray into club music he released earlier this year. He comments on “I Guess It’s Fuck Me”, “The devils I recognize/Most of them have pretty eyes, tits and some plans to just get by.”

Then there’s “Hours in Silence,” a low point that finds him rapping again: “Her stomach’s flat as shit/She stuffs that shit up her gut somehow/The fat must’ve gone up her butt somehow/I don’t even ask her.” , what’s on / She says that shit is natural / I don’t care if she makes it up. He eventually lapses into smug singing, “You were lost into me.”

It’s hard to explain how one stray mistake can turn a magic trick into a disaster. Drake has made scathing remarks about women’s bodies before — remember “Brand new tits, stitches still showing?” from 2012’s The Ride? He’s said stupid things about athlete partners before, like Vanessa Bryant in Rick Ross’ “Stay Schemain'”. He picked too many beefs with rival rappers to recite here.

But there’s a gloominess this time, and it’s not just the sloppy sequencing and hit-or-miss quality, ranging from clear standouts like “Pussy & Millions,” where the so-called “treacherous twins” collaborate with Travis Scott to reaching aimless slag like “Major Distribution”. Drake’s 2015 collaboration with Future, What a time to be aliveIt was also uneven, but the two’s carefree happiness carried them past their structural problems. They conjured up a happy, glowing mood that Drake and 21 Savage couldn’t match your loss.
Yes, 36-year-old Jay-Z caught a lot of jokes for “Beach Chair.” But by admitting he no longer made out with women in the shower and ordering girls on Molly to strip, he freed himself to grow as an artist, which led to post-retirement classics american gangster and 4:44. Each hero’s journey is different, and it’s unclear where Drake will evolve next following the unique misfire your loss. Does he even care?