Rocky’s mixtape demonstrated that he can work his wheelhouse, but the further Long. Live. A$AP takes him from that cloud, the more RCA’s $3 million dollar investment begins to look like a reckless impulse buy.
The Life of Pablo is a fucking mess—the scattered, contradictory work of an icon straining to keep up with his own brilliant pace.
More than ever, Old allows even passive listeners to care about what Brown is saying, to form a bond with him and to trust there is more of interest to him than women and drugs.
RTJ3 is an excellent bookend to 2016, but it’s best used as a guide to the future, 2017 and beyond.
Flower Boy introduces us to a new Tyler that seems interested in cultivating lyrical and sonic beauty instead of testing his listeners’ tolerance for profanity.
You can feel the effort with every syllable, that this music is coming from their very core.
Ultimately, Yeezus is the least likable album Kanye’s ever made.
With DAMN., Kendrick Lamar plays by the rules and then sets the rule book on fire, and continues one of the most impressive run of albums of any artist in recent memory.
As a twenty-something woman who’s been single in the age of social media, SZA’s confessional debut album CTRL is strikingly relatable. But what’s remarkable about it is that she has spun her personal experiences into a soulful, touching R&B record with broad appeal beyond her particular demographic.
In its many contradictions, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy—perhaps this century’s definitive portrait of torment, vanity, self-delusion, and pathos—has given way to stirring new possibilities.