Honestly, Nevermind is Drake’s 7th studio album and one of his more “ambitious” albums to date. This project mixes elements of house, Afro-beats, and R&B, deviating from Drake’s typical pop-rap sound. Although the project has some great production, issues arise with Drake’s performance.
A lot of the songs on this project feel like Drake attempted them on his second or third try. The melodies are alright for the most part, but like most modern Drake projects, it sounds like he didn’t put in the slightest bit of effort. There are standout tracks like “Sticky,” “Massive,” and “Jimmy Cooks” (which isn’t even a house song), but at 52 minutes, the project suffers from bloat.
The beats are very well produced. Well-known house producer Black Coffee crafts a distinct and almost lo-fi atmosphere. The drums are typically simple, stripping down some elements of conventional house while also adding sparse synths and pianos to revolve around Drake’s performance. There are some corny songs like “Currents,” which revolves around a sample of a bed squeaking. This song is a great representation of how much depth this album goes into.
This is an album that isn’t meant to be listened to by itself. If this came on in the car, in the club, or especially while I’m shopping, I wouldn’t mind. For a dance album, the only songs I felt like moving to were “Massive” and maybe “Sticky.” It’s kind of baffling that a dance album with 14 songs only has one danceable song. A major issue is that Drake doesn’t know how to deliver over these beats to make them interesting. There’s no soul put into this project—it feels like he’s just trying to sell a record.
The lyrics feel corny, the delivery is lazy, and his voice sounds grainy and awkwardly mixed. There are also a few moments where he code-switches his accents, which has always been weird and still remains off-putting here.
Compared to other Drake projects, this is probably one of his worst. I liked it more than the bloated, soulless snoozefest of Certified Lover Boy and the similarly described Scorpion, but I don’t think it’s better than those albums. What makes Drake excel is his mix of R&B and rap. When he’s at his peak ability, he’s writing clever lyrics and singing catchy choruses. Here, the only song he raps on is “Jimmy Cooks,” which is the best song on the album—as well as the best song he had released in years up to that point.
Overall, I didn’t have the worst listening experience with this, but with that said, it’s still not a good album. Drake puts his weaknesses on full display here. He’s not an exceptional singer, his lyricism feels mopey and stale, and his delivery feels lazy. The beats range from barebones and repetitive to upbeat, catchy, and engaging. The highs on this project aren’t high enough to return to, and the lows are so low that it’s laughable at some points. This is the type of album you either go to sleep to or hear playing in H&M. Regardless, it does serve its purpose—it just does it very effortlessly and carelessly.