Drake’s career and his record-breaking history are one and the same. He left his mark—prominently so—even before releasing his first album. He made his way onto the charts with songs from one of his mixtapes (“Best I Ever Had” and “Successful”) and was even nominated at various awards ceremonies, including the BET Hip Hop Awards, MOBO Awards and MTV Video Music Awards. Consequently, he received more attention than any of the incredible number of newcomers who emerged in 2009 and 2010. He’s released a succession of numerous hit singles over the span of the decade that has followed and set streaming and download records on Spotify, Apple Music and other online music services.

This string of surprising successes led up to his latest album, Certified Lover Boy, released in September. An astounding nine of its tracks made it into the top 10 spots of the Billboard Top 100 chart. It’s an amazing feat within the 63-year history of the Hot 100, which began in 1958. Such numbers alone make Drake an imposing figure. But what’s been even more remarkable is the influence he has had on music itself. Appearing in the midst of a rapid musical shift in the world of hip hop just before the start of the 2010s, Drake’s albums brought with them a tectonic shift in the scene. He was well-armed. It was rare at the time to freely mix rapping and singing and Drake backed it with his clever writing.

And with that, the melancholy musical world he was beginning to unfold captivated many people all at once. With its downer mood, indie production and innovative singing-rapping, Drake’s music quickly became a trend. Noah “40” Shebib, who had been his producer from the beginning, supported Drake again on his 2011 release Take Care—his second album, and a critical success. Unlike in conventional hip hop songs, the subdued drums, gloomy, emotive melodies drenched in synths and the mix that left the album delicately awash in ambient-like tones tore down the walls of genre entirely.

Beginning with Take Care, Drake’s sound started to move in a more free-wheeling direction—including R&B, dance hall, pop, house and more. All at once he was a pop star and a trendsetter. Some of his lyrics were shocking, as well. The concept of “Marvins Room,” for example, of calling an ex-girlfriend up drunk to pester her, was something not commonly heard in hip hop music, which leans toward machismo. Musically speaking, the track was closer to alternative R&B and downtempo than hip hop.

Listeners and media outlets who stand by “pure” hip hop criticized it for this reason, but the vast majority of music fans were ecstatic. Sometimes even a lame joke helped make one of his songs into a hit, as was the case with the craze around the “Hotline Bling” meme based on his 2015 single. In terms of commercial performance alone, Drake’s reached a level that his contemporaries aren’t able to keep up with. But there’s more to it than that: Drake is nearly the only pop rapper who can compete on the level of rappers who produce so-called “real” hip hop.

Throughout the history of hip hop, many pop rap stars have seen their careers collapse after merciless attacks from hardcore rappers. They said pop rappers, from their raps to their production style, were too light and childish, and that they were selling out for popularity. The pop rappers, with their relatively less-sharpened rap skills, were helpless against the onslaught brought on by pop-averse rappers who themselves were armed with unassailable lyricism and flow. But Drake was different. When another rapper attacked, he would swiftly switch to battle-rapper mode. The wit found in the lyrics of his hit singles has evolved into a powerful weapon with which he can desolate those who diss him. A considerable number of rappers have tried to disgrace Drake to date, but none have emerged victorious; on the contrary, they tend to face blowback or suffer a blow to their careers. But if you’re asking whether the rappers who diss Drake are amateurs, the answer is a resounding no. The ranks include Pusha T, Common and Meek Mill. Not only do they excel at rapping and have outstanding careers, but most other rappers would want to avoid fighting with them.

There are those who say the quibble about real hip hop and fake hip hop is a thing of the past, but nobody can say for sure. It's been 26 years since Das EFX’s ode to real hip hop, appropriately named “Real Hip Hop,” came out, but it remains one of the best ways to fire up hip hop fans and a matter of fierce debate. Most of the beef Drake has been embroiled in with other artists derives from the real vs. fake hip hop dispute. His diss battle with Common in 2012 drew a particularly high number of hip hop fans into the debate. At the time, fans were roughly divided into two camps.

Those who argued Drake’s music wasn’t hip hop took up a position against the variations that degraded existing techniques and established ideas and felt the scope of the genre needed to be solidified. On the other side were those who argued Drake’s music was hip hop and saw a need to accept the changes that were coming to the genre at a time when EDM, house and R&B were actively being worked into everything from the production to the vocals and blurring the boundaries of genre. Perhaps this question will continue to dog Drake long into the future. At the same time, the people who attack and oppose him will still be there. But as we’ve seen, he’s never an easy opponent. It’s not just because of his rap prowess; there’s something special about the world of music he’s built up that defies easy criticism by means of existing criteria.

Drake’s latest album, Certified Lover Boy, is a condensed form of all the musical styles and characteristics he’s cultivated to date. It's filled with songs that show what he’s always done best. Unlike his record-breaking smash hits, however, there’s nothing incredible or especially inspiring about it. It doesn’t ring of the same originality and ecstasy as the mixtape So Far Gone did when it made him a star nor Take Care when it raised hotly controversial questions about the limits of hip hop. The release doesn’t hold any special place in his otherwise solid discography, but it still has some sophisticated and enjoyable tracks on it.

It's particularly notable for being more aggressive and masculine than previous releases, perhaps arising from the numerous diss battles and all the disagreements he’s been involved in in recent years. Drake makes a clear distinction between friends and enemies, expressing anger toward the latter and amity with the former. As can be ascertained from their titles, “No Friends in the Industry” and “7AM on Bridle Path” deserve the most attention. You can see the hostility toward Kanye West, who went from friend to enemy. Although Drake doesn’t explicitly mention Kayne by name, it’s clear to anyone who listens that some of the lines are directed toward him (“Get that address to your driver, make it your destination / ‘Stead of just a post out of desperation”). Plenty of fans and members of the media have already accepted the meaning behind his words and publicized them. To that end, the Drake who made a lovesick fool of himself in “Marvins Room” and performed a ludicrous dance for “Hotling Bling” is nowhere to be found on Lover Boy.

The opening track, “Champagne Poetry,” is the most intriguing as far as production goes. It's a veritable smorgasbord of multi-layered sampling. The central beat comes from the Beatles’ “Michelle”: a loop of the words, “I love you, I love you, I love you.” But the sample here actually comes from “Navajo” by Masego, who first sampled this part from “Michelle” in 2007. In other words, Drake’s song samples “Navajo” (Masego), which in turn sampled “Michelle” (the Beatles). Drake listed Beatles members John Lennon and Paul McCartney, the original copyright holders, as cowriters out of respect. But it doesn’t stop there. The song takes an impressive turn just beyond the two-minute mark. Another notable sample is “Until I Found the Lord (My Soul Couldn’t Rest)” by gospel group the Gabriel Hardeman Delegation. While it originally rises up softly, the second half of “Champagne Poetry” starts in with the sampled song’s chorus, and this once tranquil track finally closes with an abundance of soulful energy.

Drake released Room for Improvement, his first official mixtape, back in 2006, meaning it's been 15 years since he made his debut. Even if you start the timer from when he began to garner attention from listeners and in the media with 2009’s So Far Gone, his career still spans more than 10 years. Although the quality of his albums has fluctuated, his popularity has never waned at any time, showing the artist has a magical power to attract people. Perhaps that’s why, then, that to me, Drake feels less like a veteran who’s been through all the ups and downs and more like a rising rap star with plenty more to come up against.