<\/p>\n
So as a thought experiment, I wanted to see if I could accomplish the hypothetical challenge I had tasked Drake with. To consider these 43 tracks and chisel out a traditional, succinct, skipless, 13-song classic sequenced with intentionality that best captures the music produced by these sessions. Because this body of work is so wide and diverse, some of your favorite songs won\u2019t be here, and candidly, even some of mine didn\u2019t make the cut. The assignment was to make a single-sit long player that flows, and you can\u2019t make a Blueprint<\/em> without cracking a few \u201cAddicted to the Game<\/a>\u201d\u2019s. After several spins, I think my resulting cut\u2014which I\u2019ll be referring to as The Iceman Sessions<\/em>\u2014is a dynamic effort that unites the three projects, lends it shape, and sustains an aesthetic across 48 minutes that I can personally confirm passes both the car and cookout test.<\/p>\n So habibis and habibtis, maids and grooms of honour, icemen and icewomen, gather around for my attempt to sculpt a more perfect Drake album. And if you think this sucks, or you could do better, my advice is make your own.<\/p>\n 1. \u201cRoad Trips\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n My first major edit was eschewing the traditional, cinematic, ponderous Drake intros that ease us into each of the three albums (Including Iceman<\/em>\u2019s \u201cMake Them Cry\u201d, which passed \u201cNot Like Us\u201d Friday to become the biggest single day streaming song ever<\/a>) and launching straight into The Iceman Sessions<\/em> with a soaring shot of espresso.<\/p>\n Another criticism lobbed at me from replies is that it would have been impossible for Drake to make a diamond-tight composite album out of the music we\u2019ve been served, because\u2014as has been the case with much of Drake\u2019s work this decade\u2014these three albums are, broadly, concept albums, with distinct tones and vibes (an idea very much lifted from Future<\/a>, Drake\u2019s crodie-turned-adversary-turned-friend-again-I-guess.)<\/p>\n I solved that problem by looking to Michael Jackson, who\u2019s been on my mind lately thanks to his controversial, hagiographic, half-a-biopic blockbuster<\/a>, and clearly also on Drake\u2019s, if the new king of pop\u2019s use of the old King of Pop\u2019s $120,000+ bejeweled glove<\/a> on the cover of Iceman<\/em> is any indication. Specifically, I thought of Dangerous<\/em><\/a>, Jackson\u2019s now-underrated 1991 genre-melding masterpiece, which found a way to make hip hop, New Jack Swing, metal, R&B, and opera sit comfortably together on a single album that made its own pop-tabloid statements at a pivotal point in its maker\u2019s life and career. I\u2019m attempting the same trick by starting with \u201cRoad Trips,\u201d imagining a single Drake album that blends his mid-tempo R&B-infused rap and mid-tempo rap-infused R&B together, drilling down on one mature sound.<\/p>\n 2. \u201cWhisper My Name\u201d<\/strong><\/p>\n Probably my favorite lyrical exhibition across the three albums, and some of the strongest pure rapping Drake has attempted over the last eightish years; he\u2019s absolutely embedded in the pocket for long stretches here. A lot of armchair critics were complaining about the punchlines on this album, and what I have to say to you, my presumably-young friends, is that you wouldn\u2019t have survived a day during Kanye\u2019s lyrically goofy early-career heights, let alone Drake\u2019s own hashtag-rap era. Much of the writing and rapping on Iceman<\/em> is Jay-Z<\/a> at the peak of his triple-entendre elegance by comparison. What I really appreciate about \u201cWhisper My Name,\u201d though, is that it isn\u2019t dragged down by the narrative emphasis that sinks many of Iceman<\/em>\u2019s bloated, downtempo rap songs that easily could\u2019ve been titled \u201c(x)[AM\/PM] in (y)\u201d, passing off whiny, self-pitying complaints as resilience. It\u2019s a song<\/em>, not a sounding board.<\/p>\n<\/div>\nThe Iceman Sessions<\/strong><\/em><\/h2>\n