It strikes a sinister and somewhat tone-deaf chord to slap a picture of your mother on an album cover with contents that have nothing at all to do with paying homage to her. But then again, it’s consistent with Drake’s musical character to use the images of women as album covers in a way that the photos are incongruent with the music, examples being Her Loss and Certified Lover Boy. And that’s how the story goes with his tenth solo album Maid of Honour, one of the installments of the trilogy released on the 15th of May 2026.
Maid of Honour album cover | SUPPLIED
Off the rip, the OVO head honcho constructs the foundation of the project with a high-octane opener strangely titled “H*e Phase”. The song serves as the navigation system of the entire project, with it being hewed from chopped sample flips, eclectic bouncy dance production, and hedonistic themes that range from club culture to selfish pursuits of pleasure and fleeting sexual escapades and instant gratification. All these constituents are held together by the she-oriented approach to all the songs—this is an album for the girlies, specifically OnlyFans merchants, Instagram models whose accounts consist exclusively of rear-view booty pictures and shallow two- to three-line quotables they probably never live by, and denizens of the club who have woefully made twerking their entire personalities. Just listen to “Cheetah Print,” if you will—this is not even a song made as an art form but as a product geared to be used as a TikTok sound and for call-and-respond twerk tutorials.
None of what I have said is harsh criticism or even unreasonable judgement; this is what the album stands for and what it is all about. With its production values set to fast-paced dance with variations of Afroswing and dancehall where Drake decides to either recruit UK’s superstar Central Cee (“Which One”) or Jamaican singer Popcaan (“Amazing Shape”), the Canadian megastar’s message is the same no matter which language it’s translated to on this album. The comms says one thing and it’s the same droning theme for the entirety of the fourteen songs: Do your thang, baby girl! Hit the club, get yours, and while you’re at it, back it up and shake it for Papi.
Drake | SUPPLIED
The album’s greatest strength also just so happens to be its Achilles heel in that it’s consistent and thematically it’s a monolithic mass that repeats itself in different sounds, accents, and deliveries. Some of Drake’s most sincere efforts in the album are unfortunately as off-putting, such as on “Q&A”, which sees the singer-rapper go back in time to play the insecure lover like he did on “Hotline Bling” and “Find Your Love”. And while he has had success in the past selling this act, it was mainly because it was heartfelt and cute back in the early 2010s. Now it’s a cloying storyline to embody as a man pushing forty, showing no signs of mental and emotional growth by remaining stuck in emotionally toxic relationships with no sense of preservation.
The only way to truly enjoy this album is to pinch your mind closed and to eat the music up with the eyes and the nose of your cognitive reasoning completely shut. If you’re looking for fun and a playlist to sing along to with the girlies while cruising back home at 2:45AM after a long night of drinking and partying it up a storm, Maid of Honour is curated for such. Otherwise, there’s nothing of inherent substance within this music—it’s bubblegum in nature, flavourful whilst one chews on it, but it leaves you feeling void and hungrier after spitting it out.
Preview Maid of Honour:
