“For All The Dogs” marks the fourth Drake album to be released in the past four years. Putting out albums so frequently, Drake has achieved an iron grip on the modern music industry, which has allowed him to pursue otherwise-unprofitable artistic directions. Whether this has made him a better artist is subjective. What is true is that due to Drake’s image being the largest it’s ever been, all publicity feeds back into guaranteed profits, with quality control being secondary to what he personally wishes to put out for himself.
“For All The Dogs” comes as a continuation on the trilogy of albums Drake released throughout the past two years, with the best parts of those albums reflected in the best parts of this one. If you’re interested in listening to songs on the subject of past-soured relationships that ended without closure, Drake provides a wider selection than Taylor Swift. Now, it is not all negative, as this 23-track behemoth will occasionally deliver that musical shine that Drake is known for. The production on this album is fun and varied enough to enjoy thoroughly. The lyricism does sometimes fall into the “I-can’t-believe-it’s-not-satire” area (especially with the track “Rich Baby Daddy”), but Drake, alongside his many features, manages to stay afloat throughout the piece.
One of the lines off the premiere track sums up the first third of this album: “pretty but rough.” Starting immediately and never waning throughout, Drake sings about his issues with relationships. Unfortunately, the delivery of the topic comes off as a petty squabble, one that never reaches a point of finality, and one that doesn’t give the ideally relating listener any insight. Just as fast as we are subjected to hearing about flings that never bloomed in The Bahamas, we move on to lyrics ideally sucking up said lovers. “He gon’ find out that it’s on-site like W-W-W / On site like dot-com / put a baby in you, you a hot mom” and “Feel like I’m bi ’cause you’re one of the guys, girl” are just two pieces of lyrical magnificence that echo throughout this entire 85-minute album.
Corniness aside, the album does give a few gems. “First Person Shooter” hits hard on cadence and rhythm as it unfolds this powerful raw noise mostly through J. Cole’s primary verse. Upon ending that song, we get “IDGAF featuring Yeat” which also goes into this rage rap noise that Drake has been trying out, especially in the beat. Unfortunately, though subjective, the chemistry between Drake and Yeat does not transfer over well like J. Cole’s verse. The most interesting thing about the song, however, is its jazzy ambience Paul Desmond/Chick Corea-type intro that soars the listener into an operatic space epic feeling, before harshly throwing us back into the brash. The song doesn’t ring right for some reason.
The following tracks “7969 Santa” and “Slime You Out featuring SZA” both give way to this very cathartic road that allows us to breathe from the punkish sounds of the first quarter of the album. SZA is frankly a saving grace that probably contained the latter track from Drake’s incessant urges to bring up past relationships. Perhaps this is what makes Drake digestible for some people, but to the extent that it is throughout this album gets old by the second half. Knowing the history of Drake’s relation to Rihanna, who is referenced indirectly every so often, it’s almost that Drake is making himself a case study on a man who has everything. All the women, success, money, and all else that is garnered reaching the top of an industry, yet he’s miserable because there is a woman who he had a connection with many years ago that he let get away.
One might call it “Male Fragility.” Whatever it is, it obviously borders on obsession, especially when considering that Rihanna already has a number of children with her husband, and Drake also has a child (who adorably is featured in “Daylight”). What makes a man who has been seemingly given comfort beyond anyone’s wildest dreams the trepidation that makes him constantly bring up an ex-lover? We are never given an answer in “For All the Dogs,” I’m afraid.
Before any serious headway can be made into this question we are hit with an interlude which gives a series of filler tracks, mostly about popping opposition, drugs, and sex drives. Also there’s a lyric: “They say love’s like a BBL, you won’t know if it’s real until you feel one / Can I feel it?” Perhaps the lowest point of the album is here with “Rich Baby Daddy,” which is a very real song that had to get past quality control. Sexyy Red’s chorus that separates SZA’s verse from Drake’s kills all the momentum this album had coming to its conclusion. And yes, not even SZA can save that.
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