The year ends with the very best albums...
1.Steve Lacy GEMINI RIGHTS:
a front row seat to a chaotic breakup after which Lacy is left with a magnitude of feelings he delicately squeezes into 10 tracks. Somehow fluttering falsettos, two-syllable refrains and casual percussion translate these hot and cold emotions to create an extremely relatable tale worth listening to over and over. The album’s production transcends eras effortlessly moving from 1960s New York Broadway back to 2022 anti-pop vibes. Gemini Rights is a coming of age album where Lacy asserts that whatever journey he’s been on, it’s clear he now knows who he wants to become. (HIPHOPDX)
2. Beyonce RENAISSANCE:
Beyoncé pulls no punches on RENAISSANCE, delivering 62 minutes of sonic joy filled with unabashedly fun, self-assured and sexy lyrics. That the album is fantastic should come as no surprise — it is Beyoncé, after all — but even amid her discography, RENAISSANCE is her most impressive studio accomplishment to date, shifting from her usual R&B, soul and pop to a mix of house, electro dance, funk and disco. RENAISSANCE is an awe-inspiring reminder that Mrs. Knowles-Carter's only real competition is herself. (EXCLAIM)
3. Rosalia MOTOMAMI:
what a flow it is, swinging from bangers like “Chicken Teriyaki” and “Bizcochito” (which is a cheerleader anthem slightly reminiscent of Gwen Stefani’s “Hollaback Girl”) to ballads like “Genis” (which we’re not sure is about what we think it is) and the sex-positive “Hentai,”— and there are also songs that combine the two, like “Candy” and the Weeknd-featuring “La Fama”. But there’s also the flamenco-inflected, percussion-and-vocals “Bulerias” (where she throws on some autotune onto her vocals), and even a couple of songs that sound at points like they could date from the 1940s, one of which (“Delirio de Grandeza”) may remind some listeners of Buena Vista Social Club… until a distant rap gradually comes into focus toward the end. In fact, no song here is entirely one thing, and every single one is sonically warped, twisted or put through a funny mirror at some point — a tactic that keeps the listener guessing as much as the stylistic diversity. (VARIETY)
4, Denzel Curry MELT MY EYEZ SEE YOUR FUTURE:
the album sees Curry trade out his signature hard-hitting trap 808s for a more controlled, jazzier brand of nostalgic hip/hop. He also departs from his numerous characters and personalities to rap candidly as his real self, culminating in a more mature project and personal journey that deals with his surrounding world of capitalism, police brutality, and institutional racism. In an interview with Loud and Quiet, Curry stated that the album has two faces. Melt My Eyez represents what people choose not to see – the news, criticism, truth, and themselves – while See Your Future is emblematic of Curry’s self-reflection and his commitment to sharing his own story of accepting the past and moving forward. (BEATS PER MINUTE)
5. Gabriels ANGELS & QUEENS: PART ONE:
you can hear Lusk’s background in gospel, but it’s tempting to say that you can hear his collaborators’ previous jobs, too. There’s something weirdly cinematic about both the songs’ structures – they’re filled with sudden cuts and strange twists, as when Remember Me dramatically shifts gear halfway through, and moments when they suddenly focus in on tiny details, not least the agonizing scrape of a plectrum being dragged down a guitar string on To the Moon – and the arrangements. The orchestrations frequently seem to be there, not as a lush embellishment or a nod to the days when soul records were orchestrated as a matter of course, but to heighten the tension, as on a soundtrack. (THE FAT ANGEL SINGS)
6. Kendrick Lamar MR. MORALE & THE BIG STEPPERS:
on Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers, he zooms way, way in, this time turning the focus on on himself. After an unflinching self-appraisal, he's forced to acknowledge, "I am not your savour." Morale is a slightly uncomfortable listen, with Lamar messily wading through topics like infidelity, vaccines, gender and cancel culture, raising more questions than he finds answers. But, amidst gorgeous arrangements full of strings and pianos, Lamar finally comes away with an idea of how to move forward: "I choose me, I'm sorry." (EXCLAIM)
7. Danger Mouse & Black Thought CHEAT CODES:
regardless of its scope, Danger Mouse and Black Thought bring good things out of each other. At Cheat Codes’ best, it’s electrifying to see the ways their respective obsessions with history and time inform the whole. Over the strobing synths and strings of “Saltwater,” Black Thought claims he’ll be “over 70 flipping the script regularly” before comparing himself to the late actor and activist Dick Gregory. Like that song, the album feels both modern and vintage—a swirl of distant touchstones happening all at once. (PITCHFORK)
8. The Smile A LIGHT FOR ATTRACTING ATTENTION:
on paper, The Smile's debut doesn't get much points for pure originality — Radiohead comprises two-thirds of the band, and it's produced by Nigel Godrich, who has worked on all that band's albums since OK Computer — that doesn't matter when the material is this good. A Light for Attracting Attention stands easily as the best Radiohead side project. The lyrics are both prescient and timely, while the production runs the gamut from jazz, art rock, electronica, psychedelia, grunge and much more without coming apart at the seams. (EXCLAIM)
9. Marlowe MARLOWE 3:
many of Solemn’s raps deal with both frustration with the industry and his position in the game. While they might be immensely talented and given credit where due, Marlowe are hardly superstars – but that’s okay. Hip-hop as a platform is designed and obligated to unite us through shared struggles and call out the structures that perpetuate them. “Let the people talk, they don’t know enough. Let my people spark, they don’t own enough”; L’Orange and Solemn have matured from hungry and green, to sage and equipped to take on the world one listener at a time.(ANYWHERE THE DOPE GO)
10. Grace Ives JANKY STAR:
Ives searches for slowness and tranquility, not a small task for a musician who experiences “sensory overload” from any song over two minutes. But she sounds convincingly calm at a leisurely pace, starting from the opening synths, languid and aqueous, on “Isn’t It Lovely.” “You’re such a starry night baby/I can look up and relax,” she sings as a hypnotic mantra, like a spirit guide who’s still clinging to her own ego. “Lazy Day” slinks along an R&B groove like a CrazySexyCool B-side while she sings the praises of sobriety and the unhurried search for meaning. “Feels OK to repeat it,” she says, mindful of the pressure of constant forward momentum. (PITCHFORK)
