Top 10 Albums of 2016
Chance the Rapper–Coloring Book (10)
Chance the Rappers “Coloring Book” mixtape takes listeners on a journey into a paradise of gospel/hip-hop fusion. His soulful and catchy melody evokes a sense of richness only heard in Chances’ songs. Unlike many other rappers and R&B songwriters in the industry, Chance digs deep into his roots both musical and cultural, to awaken the 21st century of the sufferings of minorities around the world. Chance is able to use traditional instrumentation– a sound that’s fallen out of favor in modern hip hop, but pioneered back into mainstream music by him and other upcoming songwriters such as Anderson .Paak, allowing them to develop something truly deep and complex. However, as his namesake suggests, Chance’s often upbeat bars remind listeners that he is not just soulful gospel singer, but rather a perfect amalgamation of R&B and hip-hop.
Bon Iver–22, A Million (9)
Bon Iver’s first album in five years takes a wildly unexpected yet thoughtful turn in “22, A Million.” However, hidden behind the mask of perfectly timed glitches and auto tuned voice, are deep and intellectual songs that are more relatable to Bon Iver’s classics. Justin Vernon; Bon Iver’s lead singer seems to draw from popular music today as inspiration for “22 A Million’s” track list. Being called “favorite living artist” by Kanye West the publicly declared “King of Autotune” clearly prompted Vernon to implement some of his newly acquired talent into “22 A Million’s” complex system of sounds. Unlike contemporary, streamlined 21st century music, “22 A Million” evokes a sense of frantic, and energized confusion that only Justin Vernon and Bon Iver would be able to master.
Anderson Paak–Malibu (8)
Off the back of his debut studio album “Venice,” Anderson .Paak delivers perhaps one of the cleanest and tightest albums of the year in “Malibu,” and steps into the famed archetype of singer/producer. Paak’s raspy, soulful voice heralds in a new aesthetic of modern hip hop by using traditional instrumentation as the foundation for his tracks. With .Paak, it’s the milky jazz keyboards that deliver this sophisticated swagger that he complements with his combination of elegant rap verses and melodic choruses. On songs like “The Waters,” .Paak gives clever, yet thoughtful verses describing his family life and dealing with fame, and takes his song a little darker by contrasting his innovative style with the prospect of death after considering his grandfather’s death from alcoholism. He plays with mature concepts, and separates his music from his contemporaries with the crispness of his mixing, and this maturity bleeds through into his sound. A 16-track length dwindles a little redundancy, and a few of the tracks become a little repetitive in the same syrupy glitter that made the album outstanding to begin with. Nevertheless, Malibu allows .Paak to demonstrate his wisdom, not only as an artist and producer, but as a prophet.
Kaytranada- 99.9% (7)
With multiple stunning collaborations such as Vic Mensa and Anderson .Paak, Montreal based “beatsmith” and Soundcloud star manages to perfectly integrate a wide range of different voices and beats into an impeccably smooth and varied album in 99.9%. Rather than letting the vocals outshine the beat, and visa versa, Kaytranada is able to mold the two together and provide the support each needs to thrive in his colorfully sparky album. Perhaps one of Kaytranada’s most appealing features is his uniqueness; in a short fifteen song album, he is able to evoke an all encompassing feeling of life that is absent from most albums this year.
Childish Gambino–Awaken My Love (6)
After a three year hiatus, Donald Glover’s long awaited return album “Awaken, My Love” replaces Glover’s “rich kid” rap, with a mature homage to his R&B/Gospel roots, while still slicing his songs with the same wit through his eclectic vocals and thought-provoking lyrics. “Awaken, My Love” was an unexpected yet welcomed “left turn” for fans as it exhibited an experienced, spiritual Gambino unknown to the public. The album, instrumentally, is flawless. As aforementioned, in Anderson .Paak’s “Malibu,” practical instrumentation is birthing its own genre, but Glover’s allusions to gospel and motown give the composition a suave musk that is unmatched in 2016, and perhaps in the 21st Century. Tight, bumping drum patterns, along with nimble bass lines, give Glover an unprecedented platform to release this untamed beast that is his vocals. From the opening track, “Me and Your Mama,” Gambino delivers such a passionate wail behind his voice that sounds like any Gambino sound prior. Yet, it is this maturation as a vocalist and an adult that gives us this powerful soul male singer resembling the likes of Little Richard and Bobby Byrd. What may have turned Gambino fans initially was the pure fact that he does not rap. But clearly, what Glover is pushing for here is to establish himself as more than a funny brat but as a patron of music. By paying his respects to many of his childhood heroes, he evokes a more genuine sense of emotion that has been absent from his more recent projects. In the song “Redbone,” Glover samples a Bootsy Collins bass line, which proves to be incredibly fitting as Gambino does figure as a modern James Brown. However, Glover gives more than just women and drug use. He delivers despairing cries for help in the track “Baby Boy,” where he describes his relationship with his son and his son’s mother. On the track “Zombies,” he explains his frustration with the personal toll that fame takes, and how it has reduced his social life to exclusively “zombies” hungry for his notoriety. “Awaken, My Love” is a threshold for Gambino. With such a wide range of talents, the notion of his next musical venture is unclear. However, the soulful, mature sounds of this album bode well. Bluntly, Donald Glover has the best voice of the decade, for guys.
Angel Olsen–My Woman (5)
Introducing herself strongly to the indie-folk scene in 2012 with “Half Way Home,” Angel Olsen gave a new passion to her genre. Although her follow-up in 2014, “Burn Your Fire for No Witness” didn’t necessarily build from the inventive platform she had planted in 2012, her latest release “My Woman,” gave us a female Morrissey. Her raw passion in her vocals along with post-punk instrumentation returns Olsen to her original sound, while still pressing on further with more musical complexity than her musical roots. Her voice is undoubtedly beautiful, and in melancholy tracks like “Heart Shaped Face” and “Those were the Days” her anguished vocals resemble that of Sinéad O’Connor. However, her rougher, electric singing comes through on the lead single “Shut Up Kiss Me,” where her frustration with her lover’s hesitation brashly comes through her yelling and moaning. This sound is completed by a similar sense of musical simplicity as Solange’s “A Seat at the Table.” Olsen wanders down a crude, lo-fi sound, using running bass lines, and unrefined, crackling guitar parts. However, the elegance of the album is still retained through the melodic instrumentation, such as the strings parts in the song “Woman,” and the reverbed, chorus lead guitar in “Never Be Mine.” Much like Morrissey, her songs, regardless of their instrumentation, are all ones to cry to. Yet, what sets Olsen apart from her previous work, and the other folk/rock groups emerging in this decade, is her capacity to be serious. She’s rough and electric like Siouxsie and the Banshees because she can be powerful and rude, but she can also deliver poignant ballads like Sinéad, which elevates her album to a greater music experience.
Solange–A Seat at the Table(4)
Being the younger sister of Beyoncé would appear a blessing, yet to be an aspiring musician as well, would be frustrating. Since her first album in 2002, Solange has continued to reincarnate her sound, toying with R&B, reggae, and soul, but for the most part has remained somewhat lukewarm. However, in “A Seat at the Table,” her subliminal political anthems prompts a minimalist approach, which allows her angelic, whispering voice to establish her as more than a younger sister. The instrumentation is subtle, but not subdued. The percussion and basslines stroll gracefully under Solange’s voice, supporting her high register, while still producing interesting rhythmic sections. The melodies are led by Solange’s elegant vocals, while traced by dainty keyboard charts. Yet, what gives Solange her unique identity, and respectability as an artist, aside from her voice, is her use of her music to pass social commentary. The album itself is a celebration of black pride, while also discussing the vicious problems of modern racism. And while, the interludes of interviews with various African American figures in modern music, ranging from Kelly Rowland to Master P may seem a little aggressive in the album’s attempts to express Black pride, Solange’s soft vocals deliver a particular description that illustrates the insidious effect of subconscious racism and microaggressions, as well as obtuse, violent racism. Most notably, the song “Don’t Touch My Hair,” describes the disposition forced upon her by her constant experience of her hair being oogled at for its exoticism, as well as “Mad,” where she rants about her frustration with police brutality. But yet, as seen in the closing interlude of the track “Closing: The Chose Ones,” “A Seat at the Table’s” very essence is summated in the idea that the African Americans as a culture, and a people, take these hardships in stride and triumph. Solange gives us something that her older sister doesn’t: subtlety. She’s able to weave her political message through minimalist composition because she does it with grace and nuance. Also, she sings just as good as Beyoncé.
Frank Ocean–Blond(e) (3)
Frank Ocean’s long anticipated return album “Blond(e)” matched and exceeded the expectations of “Channel Orange” by exploring a more psychedelic, ethereal version of Frank that depicts a more spiritual and even philosophical personality. As years went by, and Frank Ocean dropped in and out of the musical scene and public life, many cults began to form around his disappearance. After the shooting of Michael Brown, countless African-American artists such as Kendrick Lamar and Beyonce came forth as spearheads of the political
conversation. Frank on the other hand did not, and his continued silence spurred many to believe he had faded away completely. However, it seems that those four years of silence were simply building up to the moment when Frank would blast all opposition into the stratosphere with “Blond(e).” While “Channel Orange,” exhibited a more expansive range of sounds, “Blond(e)” was a direct contrast as it evoked a more transcendent and meditative color. Frank’s tracks aren’t club bangers, they are sonnets. They serve a purpose in describing everyday life: love, loss, sorrow, and a distant future of intangible happiness. Each song seems like Frank simply fitting in every thought and reflection that he has about his growth to adulthood, and through his poetic word play and heart wrenching bluntness reminiscent of Hemingway or Twain, all behind the gorgeous instrumentation. Donald Glover has the best voice for a guy; Frank Ocean has the best voice of the human race, and uses it to, at the very least, shed light on the 21st century’s human condition.
Danny Brown–Atrocity Exhibition (2)
Danny Brown is insane. Once a toothless drug dealer in Detroit, Brown carries his hardcore experiences with drug dealing and living through the culture of 21st Century rap. After his commercial breakthrough, XXX, Brown introduced us to a more clubbing, intense sound, which matched his more mainstream approach. However, in “Atrocity Exhibition” Brown gives us more. The album, named after Joy Division’s track on their last album Closer, explores similar themes of human darkness and confrontations with reality that the Manchester band did, while also experimenting with instrumentation and lyrical flow that makes Atrocity Exhibition a rap album with no parallel and Brown perhaps the most interesting and progressive sounds in modern music. The album is hardly the same clean cut and trimmed experience as the other hip hop albums on this list but for the right reasons. Brown is sloppy with his barrelling instrumentation featuring crude, romping drum tracks, with lurking basslines. On the opening track “Downward Spiral,” Brown confronts himself, and the “downward spiral” his life has taken. The literal descent described in the track is sonically mirrored by the crashing sounds echoing in the rhythmic composition. Yet, Brown returns to his former mainstream sounds on tracks like “Really Doe” (bearing a trinity of features in Kendrick, Ab-Soul, and Earl Sweatshirt), where catchy drum tracks and throbbing lyrical flow deliver the original Brown sound that fans were looking for, while high-pitched melodic embellishments on songs like “When it Rains” and “Golddust” (which uses a saxophone-esque into) add new dimensions to his music. His experiences in life give his music a specific edge that are incorporated in his lyrics. On “Pneumonia,” he describes having to estimate the weight of his weed before a sale because his scale broke. Its this direct line with his lifestyle that makes “Atrocity Exhibition” stand out from other rap albums that glorify drug use and misogyny. But Brown acknowledges them as realities, and even satirizes them in songs like “Get-Hi,” and discusses the darkness behind his life. Yet what completes Brown’s brooding and eerie complexion is that unmistakable shrill voice. His high pitched, nasal delivery makes Brown Brown. The instrumentation and flow aside, it’s this high-octane wailing that makes “Atrocity Exhibition” best rap album of 2016 and Danny Brown the best alternative rapper of the year.
Car Seat Headrest–Teens of Denial (1)
“Teens of Denial” is life. It is the average man’s manifesto that explicates the essence of normality, and celebrates it in a lo-fi torrent of young adult depression–it is the most fitting album to 2016, and most relevant album to this decade. Car Seat Headrest, singer/songwriter Will Toledo’s most recent project, has bled their work across the decade with six albums since 2011. Their last album, “Teen of Style,” while brandishing the same teenage sarcasm in this album, fell short both conceptually and musically. However, on “Teens of Denial,” Car Seat Headrest takes a mammoth (and ambitious) leap. While maintaining the same underground, garageband aesthetic, Toledo and company create an entire new realm of alternative rock with electronic keys, string and horn sections, and other musical experimentation. The nucleus of the band resembles closely to that of the early work of the Jam, as the crunchy rhythm guitar along with piercing, overdriven, lead phrases retain this unmistakable post punk heartbeat that Car Seat Headrest takes as their own. The drumming is an animal of its own, with racing high hat patterns on songs like “Unforgiving Girl” and thumping 4/4’s on the opening track “Fill in the Blank.” Yet the rhythm section experiences moments of class on tracks like “Cosmic Hero” with complex drum parts resembling the National’s Bryan Devendorf and a humming bass line that give “Teens of Denial” that musical calibre its predecessor was lacking. Yet the real transformation begins and ends with Toledo. His dark humor and cynicism project in his lyrics similar to that of Matt Berninger, yet his story telling narration follows the like of Jeff Mangum of Neutral Milk Hotel. Toledo creates a universe, pulling encounters from his personal life and synthesizing it into one great claim about the melancholia of life. His delivery perfectly fits this message. His nonchalant, almost conversational tone makes the struggles he’s describing very real, and all the more terrifying and dark when he breaks out of his vocal shell into his higher register. Will passionately wails out choruses and refrains on songs like “Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales” and “Unforgiving Girl (She’s Not an).” However, what differentiates Toledo’s lyrics from “Teens of Style,” is the Mangum-esque directness. Will creates a universe of teenage life, discussing everything from ballads of teenage drug use and bad highs in “(Joe gets kicked out of school for using) Drugs with friends (But says this isn’t a problem),” to existentialist crises about his maturation to an adult in the soul crushing crescendo in “the Ballad of Costa Concordia.” “Teens of Denial” is more than an album. Musically, it is a testament to the fact that a simple foundation has infinite potential. Car Seat Headrest took creative risks with this album, and in the end created something that eases the grief of life. Will revisits his teenage years through this album, and relates to the listener the experience of growing up in the harsh reality. He very intimately confesses his own mistakes and fear of reaching the responsibilities brandished by adulthood, but, despite the bleakness of the presented situation, basks in the solace of not knowing the answer. “Teens of Denial” gives us true life.
Honorable Mentions:
