I started out thinking that I like Drake so much because he doesn’t really fit in. He’s too soft. He’s too much of a whiner. He’s too philandering. Whatever — so is everyone else. Who am I to be the actuary of every rapper’s real-life actions?

The reason I like Drake is that he pulls off this middle-of-the-road everyman routine while still being exceptional, believable, and musically interesting. He’s like everything Donald Glover tries to be (forthcoming), but actually good at it.

Listen Closely:

The thing about being a critic is that you sell your opinions, the (almost) ineluctable juice you can squeeze out of your thoughts that you call “taste”. Given the state of writing today, taste isn’t exactly a lucrative commodity. Making fine distinctions is pedantic, so Drake’s broad brush characterizations are incredibly seductive. Even though ghetto tales and crack rap have always been popular, it seems pretty clear that ever since Kanye killed 50 on the charts, being an actually intimidating personage is less and less a factor in being a successful commercial artist.

Rather than being a liability (as if there will ever be as dark and intense an hour of music as The Infamous), Drake’s spacey mix of R&B and rap just makes him have a more broad appeal. The fact that he can actually rap now — as seen on “Under Ground Kings”, “HYFR”, and a couple songs in between — makes him a little more appealing to guys and real rap fans. His singing hooks have improved, too. But it would be a mistake to think of Take Care as anything like a focus-grouped album.

The most impressive part of the experience of Take Care is that it’s very deliberate. It sounds good, with a surprising lushness. The Just Blaze track “Lord Knows” is your obligatory 2011 Rick Ross guest spot, but it’s also one sick beat. The weird semi-instrumental interludes don’t grate; they’re not even as repetitive as their forebearers, the epic outros of 808s and Heartbreak. One, “Buried Alive Interlude”, actually has one of the best verses I’ve heard all year. Recently breaking fire-spitter Kendrick Lamar gets a whole song to air his grievances over Drake’s lifestyle: “Then he said that he was the same age as myself / And it didn’t help cause it made me even more rude and impatient So blame it on Mr. OVOXO, the reason why I’m breathing all the vanity I know”. The whole song is a breathtaking picture of Drake’s gravitational pull, the tight grasp he has on his circle and those who would get caught up in it. It forms a strong counterpoint to songs like “Headlines” and “Crew Love”, where Drake brags about how he and his “soldiers” will “catch a body” if you make them. That violent aspect is silly and unbelievable braggadocio, but you can really believe Drake inspires great loyalty in his friends.

Take Care is a broadly appealing album simply because it’s so honest. He’s just, you know, a guy. Drake wears his philandering, heartbreak, and hubris all on his sleeve. This warts-and-all approach makes him seem pretty normal, even as he persists in calling himself one of the greatest rappers ever.