The Certified Lover Boy is selectively honest, occasionally heartless, and set in his ways. He’ll text, “I love you,” and pretend he doesn’t; he’ll ask for a sympathetic ear, but scoff and leave “if you throw another pity party” about your own troubles. He’s Drake—past, present, and future—and Certified Lover Boy, accordingly, is referential and reverential, an 86-minute omnibus of all things Drake. Being everything at once, the Drake of Certified Lover Boy is also indecisive and even fatigued. Drake is still trying to balance fame, intimacy, ambition, and insecurity, and he’s still learning who to trust—it’s always trust with Drake—but there’s a malaise that lingers across his sixth album, as if Drake has lost himself in the Library of Drake, less sure where he’s supposed to devote his attention while an emptiness creeps into his life and lifestyle.
The labored environment of Certified Lover Boy is a mild surprise after the album’s quick and