DRAKE & 21 SAVAGE ‘HER LOSS’ LEAVES YOU WANTING MORE

There is an intense rush of tweets laced with the worst elements of contemporary sports discourse every time Drake joins up with another rapper on a tune. It always goes something like, “Drake or [insert rapper here] got washed,” or “so and so got left behind,” sending timelines into a frenzy as people try to figure out who outperformed who. Future, Lil Baby, Nicki Minaj, and everyone in between have all been included in this “horse race” roundup of collaborations.

To his credit, it appears that this is the one thing about which Drake is unafraid, especially considering the recent decision he made to collaborate with 21 Savage as the memes about being outperformed remained. The Toronto and Atlanta duo’s creative collaboration has been successful in spurts; the 2016 loosie “Sneakin'” and Certified Lover Boy’s “Knife Talk” are two outstanding examples of the chemistry the pair naturally has. This chemistry is powered by a sharp contrast in tone and delivery that fits together like a puzzle.

Their interactions have thus far been on an equal footing. Drake was able to keep up with 21’s intensity thanks to “Jimmy Cooks”‘s thundering bass, which seemed more appropriate for straight-laced raps than the rest of Honestly, Nevermind’s house music. The violent macabre of 21 and the theatrical mafioso nature of Drake meet in the center, which is the secret to their collaborations.

Her Loss, their most recent record, provides an explanation of what a full-length album from the two would sound like. What is delivered is a jerky, hour-long trip with some exceptional moments propelled by a revitalized Drake, but 21 frequently plays a supporting role rather than an equal one, giving the impression that there is untapped potential.

Before Sincerely, Nevermind, Drake’s lyrical segments on albums like Certified Lover Boy and Scorpion were monotonous due to his conceptual tropes and lack of inspiration. On Her Loss, the lyrics are more of the same. He employs chaotic gossip and “toxic” language far too frequently, which makes his comments sound hollow and insincere.

There isn’t much substance to draw from or hold onto, whether it’s a throwaway jab at Serena Williams’ husband on “Middle of the Ocean” (he names Alexis Ohanian a “groupie”) or a vague, teenage insult at an unnamed emcee on “BackOutsideBoyz” (“She a ten tryna rap, it’s good on mute”). It sometimes seems as though his only motivation is the desire to create that viral moment for Instagram or the Twitter timeline.

Where the subject matter falters, though, the rappers’ energies come together to create peaks. Drake’s best rhyming from the last ten years comes out when 21 is there, as if the OVO rapper needs an outside push to keep it real. With their different beats and ferocious resolve from both rappers, especially on the latter, the opening pair of “Rich Flex” and “Major Distribution” sound like extensions of “Jimmy Cooks.”

Drake raps, his voice becoming rougher and more hostile, “Changed, seem like they may need money for coffins/Cuban girl, a fan of ground coffee,” while 21 deftly weaves gags about Andrew Wiggins and members of One Direction into his customary frightening tenor.

The song “Spin Bout U,” using a 1995 B.G.O.T.I sample, is the perfect representation of their chemistry because they both dig deep into their emotions for the bars. As 21 raps about choosing to follow a girl’s Finsta to get to know the real her, and as Drake begs the subject of his wants to have sex with him in the middle of his verse, the raps straddle the line between being sensitive and being cheesy.

The rest of the album’s shooting percentage is questionable; either poor production decisions were made, or the rapping tasks were distributed unevenly, leaving you wanting more. With its interpolated chorus and sample of Daft Punk’s “One More Time,” “Circo Loco” comes out as cheap and soulless, and “BackOutsideBoyz” seems like an afterthought from a YSL album.

The six-minute suite “Hours in Silence” gets off to a solid start, with melodic delivery from Drake and 21 settling into a comfortable pocket over a groove that seems to fit on Nothing Was The Same. (with a cute earworm called “turnin’ my bitch up” on the bridge). However, it gradually loses its way as the tempo slows to a crawl and Drake sings throughout the remainder of the song without the same level of raw intimacy as the melodies that succeeded on the last album.

Some of the strongest performances on the album can be heard on songs like “Middle of the Ocean” and “3AM on Glenwood,” when Drake and 21 are both featured alone. In the first, Drake delivers his opulent rants over AZ’s “Mo’ Money, Mo’ Murder” with a laser-like focus, giving them actual weight and power.

He is also willing to use any cunning technique to give his raps an out-of-this-world quality. Her Loss definitely falls short of 21’s excellent collaboration with Offset and Metro Boomin, Without Warning, as well as What A Time To Be Alive, the only other Drake collaborative album, which features Future and Drake.

Sometimes it’s annoying since their prior performances together seemed much more organic than these 16 songs. The tone and production are much more appropriate for Drake than they are for 21, as if the Atlanta rapper was called into the studio at the last minute. The end result is a duo effort that feels more like Vince Carter and Tracy McGrady on the Toronto Raptors than Shaq and Kobe on the Los Angeles Lakers.