Column: What’s lost with surprise albums?

Upon the surprise release of Drake’s “If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late,” a 17-track “mixtape,” on Feb. 12, fans and critics alike devoured the music, consuming it with gluttonous determination.

Its musical quality aside, I can’t help but wonder if the “surprise album” is a commercialized gimmick intended to capitalize on our insatiable appetites for the “new.” The tape’s name acknowledges youth culture’s obsession with being hip to emerging musical artists, albums and trends.

Media gluttony, primarily via Netflix and Spotify, allows us to binge-consume our favorite media. Consumers can access R.E.M.’s entire discography or the “Sons of Anarchy” episode catalogue, which eliminates the need for label gatekeeping or cable-inflicted self-control.

The self-proclaimed “6 God” isn’t the first to shock fans with an un-hyped completed project. From U2’s “Songs of Innocence” to Beyonce’s self-titled visual album, the surprise album seems a new mainstay for widely-known artists.

Both Jay Z and J. Cole dropped albums with only one month’s notice — “Magna Carta Holy Grail” and “2014 Forest Hills Drive,” respectively.

In 2007, Radiohead announced “In Rainbows” ten days before its pay-what-you-want digital release. Considered an experiment, the successful release brought the band immense acclaim as both an artistic and business venture. Whether a marketing ploy or an attempt to undermine the industry’s hyper-capitalist tenets, dropping surprise/previously unknown albums invites media attention.

Critics and industry followers believe “If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late” is Drake’s final contracted project with YMCMB, Lil Wayne’s Universal Music Group-owned label. As founder of his own label, OVO Sound, Drake may be using the album as the shift piece between Young Money and OVO.

I’ll always support artists who push themselves to create independently of The Man; the bravado of a $12.99, iTunes-released mixtape as a send-off is admirable.

Though I was intensely excited, I must admit to feeling overwhelmed by the news. I guess I’m nostalgic for the days when album releases were drawn-out, year-long processes.

Those days when I’d drive myself to buy a physical copy, leafing through the artwork while hearing the music for the first time through my car speakers, an isolated tunnel of personal reaction.

Twitter responses were already rolling in before my download of “If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late” was complete. An unsullied first impression is — in 2015 — an impossibility.

You can’t relive a first listen. There’s something almost spiritual about pressing play, dropping the needle on an unheard track.

I fear our culture of instant gratification has lost its respect for patience.