Ubiquitous pop-rap superstar Drake sounds bored. Drake’s newest album For All The Dogs is his fourth album in two years. Yet between the summery dance detour “Honestly, Nevermind” and the highly anticipated 21 Savage collab “Her Loss,” “For All The Dogs” is the newest installment of a purely Drake album since “Certified Lover Boy.” For better or worse, Drake has been all over the place, just like this album. 

Although “For All The Dogs” is new, I feel I’ve heard this album several times already. Drake has unfortunately hit a golden formula of drawn out, confusing records with no coherence. The track list makes one clumsy jump after another between drawn out monotone RNB tracks like “Bahamas Promises” to slews of boringly tame attempts at rage music on “Daylight” and “Fear of Heights.” These tracks are tied together through BARK radio, a fictional station MCed by guests Snoop Dogg and Sade. It’s a cool idea, but the lack of consistency in sound undoes Drake’s attempts at an overarching story. 

Another insufferable aspect of For All The Dogs is the writing. Lines like “In the club with your gay friends, always put you on a straight flight” on “Tried Our Best,” and “On site like dotcom, put a baby in you, you a hot mom” on “Virginia Beach” are high school-locker-room freestyle levels of bad. Drake trying to keep up with Yeat on “IDGAF” is also an eye roller. The dorky delivery and vocal inflections clash against Yeat’s cool, yet frenetic style. “IDGAF” feels like Drake is pandering to what’s trendy, and a reminder of how he isn’t pushing the genre like he used to. 

Amidst its flaws, the most frustrating aspect of “For All The Dogs” is that it contains Drake’s best work in years. Despite the cheesy lines, the aforementioned “Virginia Beach” and “Tried Our Best” are gorgeous. Both songs feature Drake harmonizing against luscious and luxurious production about lost love. The similarly dreamy “7969 Santa” features a tastefully catchy sample of Chief Keef’s “I don’t like” as the listener drifts through Drake’s subconsciousness. “First Person Shooter,” featuring J. Cole, is an entertaining back and forth between two titans of the genre while “8am in Charlotte” features Drake manhandling a Conductor Williams beat. The raunchy “Rich Baby Daddy” is meant for dancing. Sexxy Red raps with conviction to “shake that ass” and SZA slowly melds into the ethereal club instrumental. There are fantastic moments, but they’re far between each other. 

My issue with this album is the bits and pieces that make a great Drake album are hidden between the mediocrity. A more concise track list and Drake concentrating on his strengths would make “For All The Dogs” more enjoyable. I’d almost rather “For All The Dogs” just be awful, because it’d be more memorable. It’s frustrating knowing there’s a good album in here, but it didn’t seem like Drake wanted to make one.