Songs to download: “Digital Dash,” “Live From the Gutter,” “I’m the Plug”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n-DtX12yUUE

In basketball, a player is considered “hot” after making a number of consecutive shots. While studies have indicated otherwise, the sport’s lore dictates that a player is more likely to make his next shot while on a hot streak than in a normal situation. Players sometimes test this hypothesis with a heat check, which is a risky shot he would be unlikely to make without the psychic boost of the hot streak. “What a Time to Be Alive,” the new mixtape from Drake and Future, is the musical equivalent of a heat check.

After his second studio album, “Honest,” failed to perform as expected, Future has pivoted from his burgeoning pop audience by releasing three mixtapes and a third studio album (“DS2”) that plays more like a mixtape than a commercial release due to its lack of pop-friendly singles. These projects have presented a post-breakup (from R&B singer Ciara) Future as the hardened, swaggering figure of his early mixtapes and re-established his bona fides among dedicated hip-hop fans.

Future’s post-“Honest” output recalls the contours of a hot streak in its frequency and consistency. With key assists from rising producers like Zaytoven, Southside and Metro Boomin (who executive produced “What a Time”), Future now resembles a pugnacious center, throwing elbows and slamming point-blank dunks with ruthless efficiency.

Drake, on the other hand, is the living embodiment of the hot streak. Since May 20, 2011, when he released the single, “Dreams Money Can Buy,” that began to weave the threads of his uncomfortably intimate R&B and hip-hop hybrid into a coherent whole, Drake has done little but win. He’s released two platinum albums (“Take Care” and “Nothing Was the Same”) to critical acclaim, sharpened the jokes about his emotional vulnerability into an innovative and influential mode of expression and established himself as a millennnial icon due to a lifetime’s worth of meme-able hooks (“Started from the Bottom,” “No New Friends,” “I’m On One,” “Worst Behavior,” etc.).

But Drake’s imperial phase didn’t begin until the July 2014 release of non-album single “0 to 100 / The Catch Up.” Originally posted to the OVO (the Canadian record label founded by Drake) SoundCloud page, the song peaked at 35 on the Billboard Hot 100 chart without traditional promotion. This is a remarkable accomplishment, even for an artist as powerful as Drake. Popular singles often receive months of label-sponsored promotion to earn radio airplay or ad placements; that Drake could land a modest hit without any outside support testified to his ubiquity.

He’s since surprise-released a commercial mixtape, “If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late,” which achieved a platinum designation and placed all 17 of its songs on the Billboard R&B/Hip-Hop chart simultaneously, emphatically squashed a beef with Meek Mill and repeated the “0 to 100” model four more times with “Charged Up,” “Back to Back,” “Hotline Bling” and “Right Hand,” landing each in the Billboard Hot 100 without traditional promotion.

In short, Drake has become the lethal sharpshooter to Future’s aggressive post presence. He doesn’t miss.

Recorded in just six days, “What a Time” is a gamble, due to the duo’s recent string of triumphs. The stakes are higher now; one misstep, and the aura of invincibility vanishes.

While both Drake and Future have more to lose than gain from the project, the pressure doesn’t show. “What a Time” plays fast and loose, bobbing and weaving from verse to verse. Future’s talents are better suited to this mode; he excels at twisting his vocal rhythms in real time, giving his bars the impression of spontaneity. His movements between syllables resemble slides rather than steps, allowing him to access tonal half-measures that widen his range of emotional expression.

On “Live from the Gutter,” he leans on the fluidity of these movements, turning a scene of hedonistic triumph into an existential nightmare: “I see bales everywhere/I see girls everywhere/I see scales everywhere/I see hell everywhere.” This duality—between the spoils of celebrity and the spiritual emptiness it encourages—runs across and within Future’s work, making him at once distant and accessible.

Drake traditionally works in a similar space, but he specializes in magnification. While he’ll cycle through different moods over the course of an album, each song displays an obsessive attention to detail within a specific headspace. He’ll recount turn-by-turn directions to his hookups’ homes, call out former flames by name and workplace, air intimate details of familial strife.

On “What a Time,” Drake shifts his emphasis from emotional precision to vocal experimentation, using the tape as an opportunity to stretch beyond the breathless, stream-of-consciousness flows that defined “Take Care” and “Nothing Was the Same.” Aside from tape closer “30 For 30,” which sounds like a “NWTS” B-side, Drake seems bent on finding the most potent vocal embodiment of regal confidence possible.

On “Big Rings,” he expands to cartoonish proportions, emphatically declaring: “I got a really big team/And they need some really big rings/They need some really nice things/Better be comin’ with no strings.” Like a prizefighter after a resounding victory, Drake crafts an imposing physical presence. His words don’t reveal, they project outwards, stomping out all obstacles in their path.

Like Jay-Z in his prime, Drake sees indifference as the best vehicle through which to assert his dominance. Even at his most brash, Drake often flattens his pitch into a monotone, giving the impression of a monarch sneering at his subjects. Given Drake’s elevated position in the hip-hop hierarchy, the strategy is an effective reminder of his cultural dominance. He has little left to prove, and he knows it.

But Drake needs time to produce the kind of work that launched him to the hip-hop throne. A classic studio rat, he thrives in revision and refinement. There’s a visceral thrill to hearing Drake cycle through flows and patterns of emphasis, but he needs months—even years—to craft the lyrical and aesthetic narratives that run through his solo albums.

While he works at a faster clip than Drake, Future benefits from consistency. He’s kept his collaborative circle tight on recent projects, giving him a center around which he can focus his multi-directional energy. Though frequent collaborator Metro Boomin handles much of the production on “What a Time,” the beats have the scattered feel of a sampler platter. The chefs—Boomin, Southside, Boi-1da, 40—are elite, but the coherence suffers.

But from moment to moment, the tape features beguiling sonic contrasts: a muted alarm blare and church bell on “I’m the Plug,” alternating bass hits split by a droning saxophone on “Diamonds Dancing,” a cawing crow on “Jumpman.” While a more consistent voice could have unlocked the synergy Drake and Future demonstrated on previous collaborations like “Where Ya At” and “Tony Montana,” the duo delight in the opportunity to sample from the more eclectic corners of their favored producers.

Like “Watch the Throne,” the 2011 collaborative album between Kanye West and Jay Z, “What a Time to Be Alive” embodies the dangers and delights of high-profile team-ups. Put two stars in the same room, and you’ll get moments when their skill sets merge in perfect harmony. But the final product often fails to live up to unrealistic expectations.

When you’re on a winning streak this long, not every game will be a blowout. Drake and Future have better things ahead, but a win’s a win. Then it’s on to the next one.