After more than 10 years of being a dedicated fan, I think that I’ve finally lost the Drake bug a bit, and I don’t think I’m alone.

Given the quality of Drake’s recent projects — albums littered with puzzling cover art, an abundance of filler tracks and meme-like album titles, it can be easy to forget that, for a while, Drake was once one of the most driven and respected artists in the industry.

For a point in time, he was the single most versatile artist in hip-hop. He amassed hits in so many different styles of music, from diss tracks like 2015’s “Back to Back” to 2016’s Afrobeat and dance-inspired megahit “One Dance,” to cheesy R&B love songs like 2009’s “Best I Ever Had.” Drake made music that appealed to a wide range of audiences, but most importantly, his art felt genuine, and he was likable.

The grip that this Drake, who embraced his innovation, uniqueness and sensitivity, had on not just hip-hop, but the entire music space was undeniable. Aside from Taylor Swift, there’s no North American artist who has had as much pull with audiences since the 2010s as Drake.

There’s a reason why people liked to joke about the “Drake Stimulus Package” on songs. If a song with even a completely unknown artist had Drake as a feature, it was guaranteed that the world would listen. 

The boost that Drake gives to artists also extends to more notable figures in hip-hop. 21 Savage is a hip-hop icon in his own right, but there’s a reason why over half of his Billboard Top 10 hits are collaborations with the Toronto rapper. Rick Ross, an artist who’s been a staple in the rap industry for the past two decades, has only three top 10 hits on the Billboard Hot 100: All three are collaborations with Drake.

However, for the first time in over a decade, we’re in an era in hip-hop where Drake no longer feels like the North Star of the industry. In fact, he doesn’t even feel like the industry’s most important artist anymore, and while the rap beef certainly didn’t help, it’s not just because of Kendrick Lamar. 

In the past few years, we’ve seen Drake slowly sacrifice his sense of artistry in favor of a production strategy centered solely on fishing for hit songs. An artist whose work once felt so original, timeless and human now feels so soulless.

I do not want to hear Drake talk about popping “a pill in Ibiza;” I don’t even know where that is. I also don’t want to hear him rapping about how he has people “droppin’ like some motherfuckin’ flies” because no, he doesn’t.

Nowadays, Drake projects feel like he’s throwing a collection of directionless shots on a dartboard and just hoping that one lands. Albums no longer feel concise, focused and carefully crafted, but random, repetitive and bloated.

On older albums, like “Take Care” and “Nothing Was the Same,” I can listen to them in their entirety and have a satisfying listening experience. On newer projects, like “For All The Dogs” and his recently released “$ome $exy $ongs 4 U,” I’m lucky to find three to four songs that I’m willing to save to my playlist. The rest feel bland and uninspired at best, and borderline unlistenable at worst. 

In my eyes, the decrease in the quality of Drake’s music has been evident for a while, but it’s only now that he’s seeing the effects commercially. 

The new release follows a continued pattern of decreased sales from his projects. In terms of first-week sales, Drake peaked in 2016 with the release of “Views,”  which sold 1.04 million copies, and since then, his album sales have been on a steady decline. His latest project, “Some Sexy Songs 4 U,” sold just 246K copies, Drake’s second-lowest ever.

Drake’s contemporaries, however, haven’t missed a beat.

Recent albums from Kendrick Lamar, The Weeknd and Tyler, the Creator have all outsold “Some Sexy Songs 4 U.” The difference between Drake and these artists is that they still strive to innovate in their new projects, even when they may not have to.

Even though it’s seemingly become a trend to do so, I can promise that I’m not a Drake hater — in fact, I’m a fan and have been for the better part of my life. 

Drake’s “Aubrey and the Three Migos Tour” in 2018 was one of the first concerts I ever went to, and, despite everything that I’ve said, I have no shame in admitting that Drake songs still run in consistent circulation in my playlist. I also have no shame in admitting that if he were to announce another tour in North America where he played his whole discography, I would be among the first to buy tickets. I can’t think of many artists who would put on a better show.

However, I can’t say that I respect Drake’s artistry in the same manner that I do his peers anymore, and I don’t have any admiration for his creativity as an artist the same way I used to.

A common criticism of Drake throughout his career is that he’s more of a generic “pop star” than a legitimate hip-hop artist. Five years ago, I would have dashed these claims as standard, unfounded bitterness to one of music’s biggest artists, but now, these claims feel like they ring more true than ever. 

Drake’s latest project, “$ome $exy $ongs 4 U,” was the first time in my life that he had released new music, and I didn’t really care. It’s not because I wasn’t excited at the prospect of new, quality Drake music. I just had no faith that the music he released would actually be good, and, frankly, I don’t think I was wrong.

Drake is too big to ever be anywhere close to irrelevant. He will always have a dedicated fanbase, and many of his songs will always be fun to listen to. 

Still, there’s a reason why Kendrick Lamar’s claims of him being a “scam artist” and a “habitual liar” resonated with so many people. In order to establish true iconicity as a musical artist, the image you put out to the world has to be easy to connect to or relate to in some way. The persona of who Drake is has been distorted so much that it is no longer relatable, personable or even necessarily likable. 

Kailen Hicks is a sophomore writing about current trends, conflicts and discourse around music in his column “Noteworthy Noise,” which runs every other Thursday.