A new weekly blog by Matt Cosmai

Hey there, Reader Land. After delaying the release date of “Take Care” because he was too strung out on compliments, overdosed on confidence, Drake’s album has finally leaked on to the internet. That’s right… Wheelchair Jimmy himself… the voice you hear on the radio between every Katy Perry and Bruno Mars song… the Michael Buble of the Hip-Hop scene… OctobVariesOwn… DRAKE… has released his second album. Which means, as a responsible human being, it’s my job to review it in its entirety.

“Take Care”: An Intimate Evening with Aubrey Graham (Or My Excuse To Make Fun On Drake Using Only 2,652 Words and 6 Pictures)

Let’s start by taking a look at the cover of “Take Care”. Here we see Aubrey playing up the whole “lonely mobster” shtick, a gimmick which totally makes sense because, as we all know, mobsters are incredibly lonely people, with all their money and their cars and their huge gang of friends willing to take a bullet for them. Oh, what a hardship.

Drake himself claims that the cover was meant to portray him as the king of rap. I always looked at Drake as the king of wearing turtleneck sweaters and cardigans to every goddamn awards show… but now all of a sudden he’s got himself a bronze owl and the cup from “Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire” he’s running the rap game. Seems legit.

Let’s move on to the actual music. The first track on the album is called “Over My Dead Body” featuring… uhh, somebody. I forgot her name. It’s a pretty exotic name she had, I’ll tell ya that. I wanna say it was Zooey Deschanel because she’s got a fun-to-say name, but she doesn’t sing at all except for that one shower scene in “Elf”. So it couldn’t have been her. Was it Zooey Deschanel? ‘Twas not.

As for the actual song, Drake went soft. REAL soft. Softer than Liberace in the playboy mansion. It was about here when I realized that Aubrey probably decided he wanted to be a little baby for this album, and that every song was going to be a ballad about “feelings” and “love”. Uh-oh.

Honestly, I wish my prediction was wrong. But Drake only got softer as the album went on. Song #2, “Shot For Me”, sounded like the stuff they play in Starbucks or Barnes & Noble. There’s no way that Drake didn’t write this song while he was wearing his footsie pajamas, drinking a warm glass of milk, curled up on the sofa next to Mr. Fluffypants, one of his twenty-seven cats. Aubrey even tries to propose a toast at the end of the song…

“May your neighbors respect you

Trouble neglect you, angels protect you

And Heaven accept you.”

I’ve got a toast for you too, Drake: “Please stop.”

Onto the next song.

Although it was the lead single off of the album, “Headlines” is still a crime against heterosexuality. Here, Aubrey tries to roll hard like a true gangster. He proceeds to tuck a napkin in his shirt because he “be mobbin like that”, thus asserting his dominance over no one. Not even Abigail, the rebel out of all his precious kitties. She does her business OUTSIDE the litter box. That’s a bad Abigail. Bad. But it’s okay, Dwake still wuvs you. Yes he does. Dwakey wuvs you Wittle Kittyyyyyy. Who’s a good cat? YOU ARE! Who’s a good cat wittle Abigail kitty? YOU ARE! Awww, she’s purring.

My main problem with this song is the line where Aubrey says “You gon’ hype me up and make me catch a body like that”. Unless he’s talking about “catching bodies” the way Patrick Swayze had to catch the girl at the end of “Dirty Dancing”, Drake’s got a lot of nerve trying to talk this way. He must be suffering from “Degrassi” flashbacks, where everyone at his school thought he was tough because he was the closest thing they had to a black dude. Even though he was beige with a feminine demeanor, he was blacker than a barbequed Kimbo Slice to those silly Canadians. That is, until someone popped a cap in him and he became good ‘ol Wheelchair Jimmy, the gentle boy with a heart of gold (which is closer to his real life persona, actually).

But “catch a body”? It’s no secret that Drake is a catcher (teehee), but I have an easier time believing that, before he’d catch a body, he’d catch a firefly in a jar on a summer’s eve… or maybe he’d go out to the meadow to catch a butterfly, resting on a daffodil… perhaps he’d catch a snowflake on his tongue. ANYTHING but catching a body.

The next song is “Crew Love”, featuring The Weeknd. Drake is barely in this one, as it’s mostly The Weeknd doing all the work here. I wonder what Drake was so busy doing that he couldn’t sing this song. Maybe he was updating his Tumblr. He was at a slumber party, painting his nails and talking about what boys he thinks are cute. Maybe he was making cute little finger paintings with his cats. How adorable of Aubrey.

Captain Playtex returns to action in the title track, “Take Care”, and this time he’s brought Rihanna along for the ride. It sounds like some African disco type stuff. I feel like this is what Simba would dance to, if lions went clubbing. Or maybe if an African guy went clubbing he would pump his skin-tight, emaciated fist to this song. Either way, I don’t have a problem with Aubrey getting his international on, but he’s spitting those cream-filled bars again. He actually said the line “tears all over my pillowcase”. The man who just said “Money over everything” two songs ago is saying this.

The next track is “Marvin’s Room” (aka “The Player Hater’s Anthem”), featuring the up-and-coming Kendrick Lamar. Way to name a song after a Leo DiCaprio movie, Aubrey. In this one, Drake uses being drunk as an excuse to call his ex while her new boyfriend isn’t around, so he can talk about him behind his back and try to steal his girl. What a step up guy.

On a side note, Kendrick Lamar continues his streak of up-staging his comrades on every song he’s featured on (see Game’s “The City”, Jay Rock’s “Hood Gone Love It” and J. Cole’s “Temptation”). That still doesn’t change the fact that Aubrey is softer than those Fushigi gravity balls you see in those infomercials at 3 in the morning on “Nick at Nite”.

Drake tries to go back to being the gangster who “tucks his napkin in his shirt” in “Underground Kings”. Imma speak on this speak on this song one time one time Awwwwh. The beat is kinda trill. Yeah the beat is kinda trill Awwwhhhhhhh. But ahh can’t take how Aubrey raps…no not even a liiiitlebit. Not even a liiiiittlebit. Naw ahh don’t really caaarrreeeee. Nawwwwww…

Cos really ahh dont caaarrreee. They – keep – tellin – me that – ahh – jus – need – to – learn – to – caaaareeeee. Maybe if you was in my shoes you’d know why ahh jus cant caaaarrreeee. Ahh think its deliberate. Yeah ahh think its deliberate.

Nawwwwwww… this song is pretty bad. I – wasted – three – minutes – of – my – life – and – I – want – them – back… I wannumbaack. Ahhhhkkkk.

Okay I’m done.

In “We’ll Be Fine”, Drake’s lack of masculine tendencies still does not cease to amaze me. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s able to pollinate a flower with his voice or something. Things only get worse when Birdman gets his hand-rub on all over this track. Fortunately, he doesn’t actually rap (thank god), he only puts Aubrey over as a true gangster. Drake as a thug? Who could argue with that? Just look at him…

This endorsement by Birdman is actually a great thing for Drake. You know you’ve really made it when a guy who literally has “stupid” written across his face tells you he likes what he hears.

“Umso Umso Umso Umso Umso Proud of You”, featuring Nicki Minaj, comes next. Also known as the “Gay Anthem”, I can barely stomach half of the stuff Aubrey is saying here. I mean, “I love it when your hair still wet cos you jus took a shower…runnin on a treadmill and only eating salad…sound so smart like you graduated college”? Could Aubrey make it more obvious that he’s basically just telling girls with low self-esteem what they want to hear? He’s always on that “Gurl you know you look yo best when you jus gettin up in the morning and you got them creases on yo face from yo pillow and that crusty sandy stuff all in yo eyes cos thats the real you gurl awwwwwhhh” flow. It’s either that, or he’s telling girls something along the lines of “you don’t even know how special you are because nobody else notices it… but I do”. Pardon me if the females happen to fall for his cornball tactics, but I think we all realize that Drake is preying on the weak. Lying to girls by telling them what they want to hear, while also throwing every other dude under the bus… and he’s got them convinced that he means all of this sincerely. It’s like Aubrey just parallel parked his pimpmobile on this track, and he’s just waiting for these low self-esteem girls to come flying across the hood of his car and take the bait he’s put out with these lyrics. Whatever, let Aubrey get his false Beyonce female empowerment on.

In the next song, Drake gently removes his tampon and actually puts out a sick verse. Officer Ricky Ross also dominated this song like he dominates the dollar menu at McDonald’s, making “Lord Knows” arguably the best song on this album.

Aubrey then goes back to rapping as if he’s still attached to a placenta in “Cameras/Good Ones Go (Interlude)”. Just take a look at some of these lyrics:

“Don’t you go getting married…don’t you go get engaged

I know you’re getting older…don’t have no time to waste

I shouldn’t be much longer…but you shouldn’t have to wait

Cant lose you, I can’t help it…I’m sorry I’m so selfish”

It’s almost like the angel Gabriel descended from heaven and said to Drake “This album isn’t already questionably gay enough, so now me and you have to do a duet for the interlude.” And they did sing together, Gabriel wearing nothing but a white cloth, and Drake wearing an orange turtleneck sweater from the 1983 Sears Catalog.

Wimpy is taken to a-whole-nother level in “Doing It Wrong”, featuring Stevie Wonder. I tried to type out some lyrics to show you guys, but they were so soft that they floated off of the screen when I did it. Unfortunately, not even Stevie’s harmonica playing could save this song from turning into a great big orchard of feel-goodiness and softness. I swear, Drake uses a few different variations of “we know” and “I know” and “they all know” in every chorus. As if he didn’t already tell us “they know” a million friggin’ times during “Headlines”.

On the subject of Stevie Wonder, I also think it’s time that he got rid of those braids he’s rocking. They start like 8 inches further back than they did in the 80s, can’t he see that?

Aubrey seeks help from his secret gay lover, Lil Wayne, as well as Andre 3000 in “The Real Her”. Drake goes back to fighting on the front lines of the war for keeping girls from taking their clothes off for money. This dude saves more girls before with his music then most guys save in their entire life. Whenever things get gloomy down in Stripperville, and the girls get tired of letting fat guys throw singles at them as they prance around naked, they just flash the “Drake Signal” up the clouds and wait for Aubrey to slide down a sparkling rainbow with a cape on his back, holding a petite tote bag full of sweaters he just finished crocheting. And then he saves them.

In “HYFR” featuring Lil Wayne, Drake absolutely kills the first minute of the song with a good verse. Granted, it’s not great, but it doesn’t make me want to throw a volcano at someone, or smack Aubrey is the face with a mailbox. Weezy and his intense cough-syrup addiction are also a delight. “Just a SPOONFUL or sugar makes the medicine go down”, Aubrey tells him, but Wayne still downs that whole prescription in one sitting. Aubrey is worried about his friend.

“Look What You’ve Done” comes afterwards. I didn’t know Drake sang lullabies, but I’ll be damned if this song didn’t but me to sleep. On an unrelated note, I might also have herpes in my ear after listening to it.

Aubrey’s album hits its softest point with the next song “The Practice”. If you listen to this without headphones on, your clothes get fluffier. It’s true. Also, he somehow turned “Back That Ass Up” into a ballad with this song. That’s some stuff only a rapist could have pulled off. I mean, who could actually be delighted by something like that? Creepy rape people, that’s who. The kind who hang around the 7-11 parking lot at one in the morning and scare teenage girls away.

The album’s final track “The Ride”, featuring The Weeknd, didn’t come with the illegally leaked version that I have. I’m just gonna assume that the song was about Drake’s favorite amusement park ride when he was a kid or something. He rode it with his grand-pappy. They were both wearing Christmas sweaters. Afterwards, they baked chocolate chip cookies together and looked through an old scrapbook by the fireside. Hot Cocoa was also served. Don’t forget the marshmallows.

Well, that’s “Take Care”, or as I like to call it “A cascading waterfall of invisible gayness that Drake calls music”. Not that I’m calling Drake gay (there’s nothing wrong with that if he is). At times, Aubrey tried to act like a gangster on this album, as if he didn’t grow up living that Canadian upper-class suburban life, riding ponies and doing cartwheels in the backyard by day, and playing prolonged games of Monopoly with his close friends and family by night. Other times, he was the biggest “nice guy” on the face of the Earth. It’s as if he wakes up every morning, plays the harp for his cats, slides down the banister in his satin man pajamas, drinks a full glass of breast milk, and then goes into the studio to record songs into a microphone made out of candy canes and sugarplums. It’s no secret that Drake’s masculinity has been on life support since “Thank Me Later” dropped, but Aubrey’s man-hood really kicked the bucket with this album. At this point, I’m surprised The Wiggles weren’t featured on the album. Same goes for The Doodlebops and those guys who make “Kidz Bop”.

In conclusion, whether he’s “Lonely Mobster” Drake or “Super Nice Guy” Aubrey, this rapper should just stick to what he does best… having fat, shallow, thirteen year old girls daydream about him showing up at their door wearing a tuxedo, with a box of chocolates in one arm and rose in his mouth, on a horse and carriage, waiting to take them to Build-A-Bear Workshop (or wherever it is the kids hang around these days).

I rate this album ONE Drake pinky salute out of TWO. I realize that my system of review is flawed. Goodbye, everyone.

OH, AND DON’T FORGET— If you end up buying the retail version of this album, you have to take it in for a pap smear every year or else it could get a disease.

Enjoy the album everyone, and… Take Care.