The Problem With Saying <em>Oontz Oontz</em>
A shock awaited Drake’s fans when they first hit “Play” on his latest album. A gentle instrumental intro lulled the ears for 37 seconds. Then the second track, “Falling Back,” cut in, the audio equivalent of a jump scare in a horror movie. The bigger surprise was this new song’s sound: a beat not built on the woozy, asymmetrical rhythms that characterize much of modern hip-hop and R&B, but rather upon the sort of steady thump that has kept dance floors bustling for decades now.
Drake had dabbled in dance music before, but not like he turned out to do on Honestly, Nevermind. Almost all of its songs channeled house music, the electronic, energetic style that was invented in predominantly Black, gay clubs in 1980s Chicago and that has evolved into countless subgenres since then. In doing so, Drake joined a brewing pop trend. Beyoncé had just promoted her new album, Renaissance, by posing in sequins and with a mirror ball; she soon released an upbeat single, “Break My Soul,” that paid tribute to ’90s house. The Weeknd had kicked off the year with a concept album about endless grooving. Lizzo’s “About Damn Time” had become the latest in a recent wave of Hot 100 hits featuring arrangements of . After years of bummer vibes and , 2022 is shaping up to be the year in which stadium-tier musicians get really into raving.
