2021: Worst to Best

OK ORCHESTRA is the anti-Trench: a musical de-evolution from its predecessors that shows a supreme lack of maturity and artistic growth.

Act 1's perplexing vocal acrobatics makes it even less tolerable than the band's past headaches.

Drake's portrayal of a braggadocious, self-centered, misogynistic playboy comes off less as parody and more so the real deal on the incessantly Drake-ish Certified Lover Boy.

Constantly leaping between soulful hip-hop and lifeless trap drivel, VISIONLAND suffers from a major identity crisis above all.

Pop Smoke's estate treads toward BVF-level exploitation with the posthumous Faith.

Despite Revelación's new reggaeton influences, Gomez has yet to characterize herself as anything but basic.

Never before has music been so passionate yet expression-less.

Logic kickstarts a new streak of shitty releases with the legacy-testing Bobby Tarantino III.

Society has progressed past the need for Maroon 5.

By the start of the sixth track, it becomes crystal clear that YSL's ragtag roster of rappers are not capable of carrying 75 minutes of material.

ZelooperZ's overly expressive style of rap isn't enough to carry the low-on-ideas Van Gogh's Left Ear.

KHALED KHALED is the twelfth studio album by American hip-hop and rap producer DJ Khaled.

Shame's sophomore release encompasses a sense of monotony like no other.

Overloaded with trendy guests, poorly developed tracks, and barebones production, Hall of Fame is one of trap's most obnoxiously commercial statements to date.

Siifu's love letter to southern hip-hop is unfortunately built the same way as any bog standard, filler-heavy trap release.

Bieber's most downbeat statement to date explores topics of trauma, self-loathing, and depression with surface level flair and execution.

Isaiah Rashad takes the lowkey aesthetic to the extreme on The House is Burning.

TLOP5 sees Pi'erre's exemplary production be softened by characterless rap performances.

Baby & Durk's brotherly chemistry makes The Voice of the Heroes a career highlight for both.

Red Velvet's Wendy debuts with a forgettable offering of K-Pop balladry.

1.5's additions only serve to weaken the listening experience created by the original UNLOCKED.

Sematary's "everything and the kitchen sink" approach to trap overstays its welcome by about half an hour.

Equivalent to amusement park cotton candy, WINK is overloaded with sweetness yet low on calories.

Bambi is passable KR&B to a tee.

Boasting some of NCT's least essential material to date, Sticker is as stereotypical as K-Pop gets.

Weekend's few moments of alt-rock ecstasy unfortunately get watered down by the occasional cringe.

EP2's brand of abstract autotuned rap comes off as utterly bizarre, for better or worse.

Daddy's Home operates as both ear-entrancing eye candy and sleep-inducing snack food.

TYRON's potential is stretched unnaturally thin across 35 minutes of hit-or-miss material.

Despite the quality of specific tracks, Doja Cat's Planet Her is mostly just an assortment of forgettable pop rap.

Though a noticeable step down from its predecessor, LYWW Vol. 3 is nonetheless a decent cap off to the series.

LILAC's contemporary approach to K-Pop results in IU's strongest release to date.

Quadeca's latest showcases a majestic sense of ambition, even to a detriment.

The conclusion to Culture compromises between the styles of the previous two projects, to somewhat positive results.

NCT DREAM's dependence on over-the-top hooks makes Hot Sauce more annoying than necessary.

For as soothing as Solar Power's musical palette is, it rarely ever makes a case for its own existence.

The Antonoff-assisted Sling too often comes off as a weaker version of Taylor Swift's past works.

As terrifying as it is tiring, IRA's back-breaking length is both its biggest strength and greatest weakness.

Despite the overpowering charisma of Nephew, Slitherman Activated suffers from the exact same problems as many other contemporary trap releases.

A cohesive package of jazz rap, Bo Jackson is smooth in the moment but ultimately unappealing.

The latest EP from the City Pop Sensation beams with beauty, yet lacks replayability.

A Rick and Morty episode made mixtape, Logic shoots off to space with the packed-with-potential Planetory Destruction.

Trip at Knight's hyper-trap aesthetics decently showcase the Trippie Redd of a new decade.

Perfect World is a competent body of B-Sides, bookended by TWICE's trademark extravagance.

Rodrigo's collection of bitter ballads consistently come off as genuine, but lack needed depth.