Album Review: Drake - More Life

Cultural appropriation is the new racism, right? So when a restaurant serves a dish of fried chicken, waffles and watermelon, and names it after Obama, that's not racism; it's cultural appropriation. With that in mind, how are we to approach Drizzy's use of a Canado-Carribean accent so thick and forced that things become "tings"; and how are we to approach the 6 God courting the cred he perceives English rappers Giggs and Skepta might offer him?

Perhaps the correct (and worrying) answer is: it doesn't matter. No matter how morally ambiguous the speaker, when we hear, "I drunk text J Lo... Old number so it bounce back," or smoke pronounced "schmoke" on Free Smoke, it's difficult not to forgive every foible. Passionfruit is stunning: the next evolutionary step in Drake showing how pedestrian mood music makes for the biggest bangers. Glow, the Kanye feature, is — aptly — a luminous triumph and a striking reminder that 808s & Heartbreak paved the way for Drake's career. This song closes that circle.

More Life is billed as a playlist, not an album. It's "a body of work [Drake's] creat[ed] to bridge the gap between major releases". So, a mixtape then? Anyway, if the very nature of a release can be treated so loosely, then perhaps we can be loose with the cultural appropriation that populates it. Satisfy that condition, and we find a stunning playlist from one of the most consistent creators this century has offered us. A must listen.