…Ladies.
[Video][Website]
[5.00]
Alfred Soto: Drake can’t perform a rags-to-riches narrative without undercutting it with his abrasive timbre and obnoxious repetitions; he’s a guy “who don’t do much explainin’.” But he also undercuts it with brevity — Drake doesn’t suffer from knowing it’s the soul of wit.
[5]
Patrick St. Michel: I come here today not to speculate about the economic status of a Degrassi star’s childhood, but rather to celebrate Aubrey Drake Graham operating in something approaching his best mode. He’s spent so long moping about being rich and horny that it’s a genuine surprise that “Started From The Bottom” doesn’t find him operating in skeezy mode (that gets passed off to the dumb OMG-boobs skit in the video). Instead, he sounds more like Drake around the time of Thank Me Now, upping those who were with him during the “tough” times while also feeling burned out on “fake friends,” all over an icy beat that’s plenty serviceable. The song is pretty bare bones and Drake’s still going on about haters, but hearing Drake sound happy about his current life is way better than him trying to make it seem terrible. “Nigga just as a reminder to myself/I wear every single chain, even when I’m in the house” sounds goofy, but it’s also the most joyful line Drake’s penned in some time.
[6]
Andy Hutchins: Mike Zombie’s hypnotic, Hpnotiq-soaked beat is the show here, as is usually the case when Drake screws his flows to maximize a few anthemic bars: that ethereal Final Fantasy pause menu keyboard loop hangs over the whole affair like the aurora borealis, and there’s bass, shaking drums, Lex Luger’s signature synth rattle with the “Hype” drop intact, and it’s all just perfect for strolling to the VIP and holding the bottles high. There are at least two and a half hooks here, and two verses zipped inside the contours of the drums; if this weren’t Drake, rap’s finest producer of evidence for arguments about class-based gentrification, telling the world of his struggle, it would go down as easily as celebratory champagne. If you can’t get past that, consider that framing the song as a Toronto triumph in the video and using it to take shot after shot at the Weeknd (“I can turn your boy into the man”) makes this less a “L’Chaim!” to self and more another chapter in Drake’s Jay-Z 2.0 playbook.
[8]
Crystal Leww: That low bass makes this song really work, but it’s indiscernible without either great speakers or headphones. It sets up a fairly simple beat for Drake to rap over. Drake wants nothing more than for people to think of him as a Real Rapper with a story that is worth telling. He might have a more privileged background than a lot of others, but Drake really succeeds because he stands apart as someone who reflects deeply on himself and his position. The (often quoted and shouted) line “I wear every single chain even when I’m in the house” reveals that deep self-reflection and self-examination. His thing, whether you like it or not, is not something that he puts on for the cameras or an audience; Drake’s like that when he’s home alone, too.
[7]
Brad Shoup: If only this thing could’ve been half as fun as the video — or the line “I could turn your boy into the man.” Mike Zombie’s space bass is great; so’s the edited guitar/piano loop. But a come-up song bereft of details? Deadly. There’s a kind of admirable brutalism in that chorus, but once again: no fun.
[4]
Jonathan Bogart: Smug, douchey, oversensitive, and self-aggrandizing I expected. Boring, though? Boring is new.
[1]
Scott Mildenhall: Sounds like he’s worn out from trying to convince all those people that he doesn’t worry about.
[4]