Drake surely knows how to make a comeback full of buzz, and that’s exactly what he has done here — the equivalent of a restaurant reopening with three tasting menus, two surprise kitchens, and a dessert trolley that keeps circling the room long after everyone has stopped being hungry.

On 15 May, 2026, the Toronto artist released “Iceman,” along with two surprise albums “Habibti,” and “Maid of Honour,” a 43-track spread served in one synchronized, and not to mention, surprising drop. The intention was ostensibly a single album. The outcome is closer to an overbooked banquet hall where the maître d’ refuses to stop seating guests.

During the reveal executed via livestream theatre, Drake, positioned like a man conducting both orchestra and distraction, produced three hard drives as if pulling rabbits from increasingly expensive hats. A line flashed across the screen. “I made this so that I could make this,” which lands between prophecy and a shrug. Either way, it was clear that this was never meant to be modest.

At the center of “Iceman” sits the long, bitter aftertaste of his feud with fellow rapper Kendrick Lamar. The record does not so much address the conflict as circle it repeatedly, like a diner returning to a table that has already been cleared. References to “Not Like Us,” disputed streaming figures, and industry manipulation claims turn the album into a courtroom sketch drawn in resentment. Even the barbs about audiences and private lives feel reheated talking points.

If “Iceman” is the main course, the surrounding albums behave like unexpected side dishes that refuse to stay on their plates. “Habibti” and “Maid of Honour” extend the table, bringing in a sprawling guest list that includes Future, 21 Savage, Sexyy Red, Central Cee, and others who appear like rotating conversation partners at a party that has lost its original host.

There is even a detour through global pop mythology, with a nod to BTS, a line that blends stadium-scale K-pop stardom into Drake’s familiar narrative of omnipresence.