Listen, brother, there was a time when Drake’s success felt organic. Like, as much as we could overlook how he supposedly signed one of the biggest record deals in music industry history, it felt like people actually still cared. His haters still bopped to his songs, his fans remained adamant that he couldn’t fall, and everyone else couldn’t escape his presence in pop culture. An Instagram comment could garner as much attention as a new feature. The OVO brand remained a fixture in casual streetwear. The gossip and rumors, no matter how bad, only added to his image. There was something magical about Drake’s reign—not just before the whole feud with Kendrick but even before he went on a spree of releasing rather subpar bodies of work, Certified Lover Boy included.
But the past year and some change has seen Drake acting like the biggest baby of them all. His lawsuit against UMG alleged they allowed Kendrick Lamar to defame him on the Diamond-eligible “Not Like Us”—a song that stayed on the charts for nearly a year, earned several Grammys, and was performed on the Super Bowl stage. As much as Drake violated yet another cardinal rule of hip-hop, his frustration is understandable. After all, how do you make that much money for one label, only for them to let someone go scorched earth on your name, and not just let it happen, but let it interfere with your operations? You can’t say Kendrick cooked him and act like there wasn’t collateral damage.
The unfortunate part about all of this is that Drake, like every other artist, still needs to work to feed the mouths he employs—and the one he brought into this Earth. The loyalty of those who’ve stood by him has been rewarded (with his loyalty? who knows), and those who’ve turned on him are now the muses to what he’s trying to make into his most anticipated release—Iceman.
On Friday night, Drake cosplayed as a working-class man in the streets of Toronto, driving a truck with his album title on it while debuting brand-new music. The main takeaway was the song “What Did I Miss,” premiering alongside a new set of visuals that sees Drake rapping next to a pool with a bunch of guns scattered beside it. Another shot shows him measuring out a block of ice, which many presume is a shot at Kendrick—even if it is, Dot performed two sold-out shows in Toronto without anything happening to him. With heavy police presence and an apparent private flight in and out of the country on both nights (allegedly), the Grand National Tour went down without a hitch. The city felt so safe that night that Mustard got to enjoy New Ho King’s signature fried rice without anyone trying to pump his chain. And frankly, in the rankings of who would’ve gotten robbed that night by a rabid Drake supporter (or Top5), Mustard had a higher risk probability than SZA or Kendrick Lamar.
Beyond that, “What Did I Miss” also seemingly addresses LeBron James, DeMar DeRozan, and Rick Ross—each of whom has landed on Drake’s opp list in one way or another.
You might think that entire tangent is beside the point, but it’s the exact point: if vengeance is the game, then who will be the victim of Drake’s retribution? The music industry is transactional; you scratch my back, I scratch yours, etc. And yet, Drake doesn’t seem to realize that the industry is not only transactional but fickle, too. 2 Chainz recently told Shannon Sharpe he stopped didn’t like doing swaps with other rappers because, at a certain point, the value dwindles. And if we’re being honest, Drake has similarly faced allegations of aligning himself with certain artists due to their own success, only to abandon ship when they aren’t as hot anymore. So how could he actually be mad—or at least vocalize his anger—when he’s been accused of treating others the same way he feels he’s being treated now?
For an artist who’s spent the better part of the past decade and a half evolving his sound, “What Did I Miss” sounds as much like a cookie-cutter Drake song as anything else he’s released. The beat’s cool, but it’s not groundbreaking. The bars feel as vindictive as anything he’s dropped in the past five years. Betrayal doesn’t sound painful anymore—it just sounds like another part of life that Drake romanticizes because it fuels a beef that’s been over for a while.
But this new chapter of Drake’s career feels like something out of the Twilight Zone, honestly. For an artist whose brand was once tied to exclusivity and scarcity, there’s been a much more transparent effort to propel himself back to the top of the charts—or at least regain the trust of those who wrote him off after the tragedy that was “The Heart Pt. 6.” That only reinforces many of the criticisms levied against Drake throughout his career. For someone who’s constantly faced culture vulture allegations, it hasn’t helped that he’s aligned himself with streamers who have little investment in hip-hop culture beyond exploiting it for clout—which makes his upcoming Wireless Festival performances (and the proposed streamer fly-outs) feel more performative than a homecoming to a country that’s historically embraced him.
Still, considering that he’s on the outs with UMG, it’s a “by any means necessary” type of approach to ensure maximum impact. That means bypassing traditional media outlets—something he’s proven he can do—and fully embracing the next generation of content creators. That’s fine. But when you’re inching toward 40 and rapping about how your therapist gave a 30-day notice because you “keep on talkin’ ’bout beefin’ and business and money and women” and there’s “no diagnosis,” maybe the issue is a lack of growth. And trying to fit in with Gen Z—especially after a year where the world branded you a pedophile—feels like a setup for failure.
Still, the launch of the Iceman campaign last weekend paves the way for what he’s clearly trying to frame as a summer takeover. Whether “What Did I Miss” turns into a hit will be determined over time—but if we’re being honest, it does slap for what it is. This is supposed to be the fiery intro that sets the stage for his three-day residency at Wireless Festival. On the first night, he’ll share the stage with his $ome $exy $ongs 4 U collaborator PARTYNEXTDOOR and Summer Walker–an homage to his R&B roots. Night two will reunite Drizzy with Boy Better Know (Skepta’s crew, for the uncultured), and night three will include the long-awaited return of Vybz Kartel alongside Burna Boy, Popcaan, and other dancehall artists. Basically, this could be the platform where Drake finally compartmentalizes his versatility across three nights with some cohesion—something that’s been sorely missed in his recent output, Honestly, Nevermind being a rare exception.
The stakes have never been higher in Drake’s career. Iceman won’t flop by any real standard—except his own—if it fails to deliver the kind of commercial dominance he once took for granted. But the cards are in the deck. New music will likely be debuted at Wireless. And if it sticks, then maybe Drake’s not in such a bad spot after all. If Iceman succeeds, especially without the machine behind him, it won’t be because he proved his critics wrong—it’ll be because he finally evolved beyond needing to. From the sounds of “What Did I Miss,” that doesn’t quite seem to be the case. But first singles don’t always tell the full story. Still, if Iceman can’t carry more than just the anxiety surrounding its release, then even Drake’s biggest wins will keep sounding like losses in disguise.