The song's interpolation of Juvenile's 'Back That Azz Up,' an early milestone in the the rap subgenre of strip club narratives, locates our loverboy's conquest in a realm where love is always on the clock. 'I can tell that money's got you working,' Drake intones over a chilly synth adagio in 'Practice,' one of several tracks on Take Care produced to sound like it's drifting out of a Virginia Beach car radio by Aaliyah superfan Noah '40' Shebib. It's emblematic of our moment of crashed markets and occupied streets, and it speaks to a generation beginning to question whether the All-American, celebrity-endorsed credit card lifestyle will make them anything but bankrupt. But Drake's relentless focus on the point where money empties out happiness isn't merely autobiographical. His melancholia is that of the overly sated: much is being made of Take Care's album cover photograph, in which Drake sits like a lonely Corleone in a gilded corner-table cage. This biracial upper middle-class kid speaks from a position of privilege that few rappers would occupy, even if it were their birthright. The Record Follow The Sample: Drake's 'Take Care' Comes From The Bluesĭrake makes even his advocates sometimes cringe, I think, for the same reason I find his music so fascinating. 'Jealousy is just love and hate at the same time,' I advised my daughter when she reported a conflict in her grade school lunchroom, stealing the line from this album's opening track. I've even taking to invoking his callow wisdom in family situations. Or maybe it's just that Drake is so endlessly quotable. Maybe it's his stated theme, being lost in love, central to many of my own most beloved listens, from Richard and Linda Thompson's I Want To See the Bright Lights Tonight to the Afghan Whigs' Gentlemen.

Maybe it's the memory-foam blend of '90s-nodding R&B and downtempo electronica cultivated by the Canadian rapper's mostly homegrown production team.

Drove to Atlanta this past weekend, a three-and-a-half-hour trip from my house, and Take Care was my soundtrack the whole way. I'm pretty much obsessed with this new Drake album. You can listen on Spotify, or sign up for the free service. The Record 's critic, Ann Powers, and editor Frannie Kelley listened and came back with very different opinions.

Toronto's Aubrey Drake Graham released his second major label album Tuesday.

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