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Best of Hip-Hop 2012

Top 20 Hip-Hop Albums

by Mosi Reeves

Each year brings somewhere between 250 and 350 hip-hop albums and EPs. These are just the releases from rappers with some kind of audience, whether it’s Rick Ross and his multinational marketing campaign for God Forgives, I Don’t; Z-Ro and the tens of thousands that he can depend on to support Angel Dust; or the small assembly of beat-heads and avant-garde rap fans that heard Thavius Beck’s The Most Beautiful Ugly. Omit the thousands of anonymous rappers that may be just one local hit away from demanding our attention and becoming the next Chief Keef (“I Don’t Like”) and Trinidad James (“All Gold Everything”), but factor in hundreds of mixtapes that Rhapsody occasionally carries, like Future’s Astronaut Status. The result is an overwhelming deluge of sound that’s impossible to completely process.

It’s a logistical challenge for both the artists and the listener. For the former, they often respond by selling us more music. E-40 released three volumes of The Block Brochure, and then a two-volume set with Too Short, History: Mob Music and Function Music. Each of the five separate albums was about an hour long. Rick Ross had his solo album as well as Self Made 2, a compilation featuring artists signed to his Maybach Music Group (and two official mixtapes, Rich Forever and The Black Bar Mitzvah). Tech N9ne released three EPs. Oh No released a solo album, an instrumental album, and a collaboration with rapper Chris Keys. The Alchemist released a solo album, and an album and EP with Oh No (under the name Gangrene). It’s partly the nature of hip-hop culture in the new millennium: Instead of sorting through the crap and presenting us with their best work, they unleash the full force of their creativity upon us. It’s also a canny marketing tactic that makes their brand seem omnipresent, and gives us little chance to forget their names.

For rap fans, the question of whether trying to keep up with the culture is truly worthwhile seems self-evident. But without an overarching storyline akin to the mixtapes-as-albums renaissance of 2011, hip-hop in 2012 dissembled into micro-trends: trap-rave, the Chicago drill scene, Yay Area slap, L.A.-inspired “ratchet” minimalism, EDM pop-rap, et cetera. There were the requisite number of Important Albums like Kendrick Lamar’s good kid, m.A.A.d city, Nas’ Life Is Good, and Big K.R.I.T.’s Live from the Underground. What did it all mean?

While I’ve ranked 20 albums according to my intellectual opinion – surprise! Kendrick Lamar is No. 1 – my personal tastes are slightly different.

Here’s how I approached good kid, m.A.A.d city. I listened to it once while hacking away on my computer, and I didn't get it. Then I listened to it a second time with my undivided attention – OK, I might have played online poker or something – and finally grasped its quirky brilliance and elusive melodies. I wrote my review and haven’t returned to it much since. I've spent many more hours replaying Curren$y’s The Stoned Immaculate (which really grew on me), Jeremiah Jae’s Raw Money Raps, THEESatisfaction’s awE naturalE, Lushlife’s Plateau Vision and Roc Marciano’s Reloaded.

Should I have topped the chart with the album I like the most as a fan, or the one I respect the most as a critic? I’ll let you debate that one. But when I mull over what will represent 2012 in the years to come, I think back to two decades ago, when The Source magazine named Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth’s Mecca & the Soul Brother as the best album of 1992. In their haste to celebrate the East Coast’s boom-bap peak, the magazine’s staff overlooked what became a far more influential work, Dr. Dre’s The Chronic, and the incursion of G-funk into mainstream pop culture.

At the moment, I can’t see any candidates that eclipse Lamar, who represents what Pop Editor Rachel Devitt hilariously described as the “urban dreamer/depressive” Zeitgeist that performs a “wispy, contemplative, relatively hook-less new brand of soul.” (Lamar, meet Frank Ocean, Drake, Miguel, The Weeknd, et cetera.) It’s possible that Chief Keef’s Finally Rich -- the last album left on the 2012 schedule with the potential to make mainstream critics froth at the keyboard (and make “conscious” fans scream once again that “real” hip-hop is dead) -- will be a piece of knucklehead hotness on par with Waka Flocka Flame’s 2010 debut Flockaveli, which had a more lasting impact than I initially gave it credit for. Or maybe Finally Rich will be a compromise of gangbanging nonsense and bland urban pop hooks like Waka’s 2012 follow-up, Triple F Life: Friends, Fans & Family.

Or maybe it will be another album from someone whose influence has yet to be felt and understood. This is the beauty of culture: It changes and evolves when we least expect it to.

20) Death Grips, The Money Store
19) Future, Pluto
18) E-40, The Block Brochure: Welcome to the Soil
17) Gangrene, Vodka & Ayahuasca
16) Plan B, Ill Manors
15) Big K.R.I.T., Live from the Underground
14) Homeboy Sandman, Chimera
13) Ka, Grief Pedigree
12) Jeremiah Jae, Raw Money Raps
11) El-P, Cancer 4 Cure
10) THEESatisfaction, awE naturalE
9) Curren$y, The Stoned Immaculate
8) Lushlife, Plateau Vision
7) Spoek Mathambo, Father Creeper
6) Azealia Banks, 1991 5) Nas, Life Is Good
4) Serengeti, Kenny Dennis EP
3) Roc Marciano, Reloaded
2) Killer Mike, R.A.P. Music
1) Kendrick Lamar, good kid, m.A.A.d city

The Money Store

Death Grips

Death Grips' Exmilitary was one of the unlikeliest indie hits of 2011, and no one guessed that this defiantly underground digital hardcore/rap trio would sign a major-label deal. But it's tough to catch lightning in a bottle twice. The Money Store is just as ferocious as that first album, but it doesn't have as many memorable songs, and nothing as outstanding as "Guillotine," though "The Fever (Aye Aye)" and "System Blower" are impressive. The group's fortunes rise and fall on Stefan Burnett, a surly punk enigma who claims on "Hacker" that he's "teaching b*tches how to swim."

Pluto 3D

Future (ATL)

The Block Brochure: Welcome To The Soil 1,2, and 3

E-40

E-40 continues his post-Warner flood with this ridiculous three-disc four-hour-plus set. To call it excessive and uneven misses the point; this is E-40 feeding the streets until they burst. Some highlights include "Function," a hard-hitting blapper with rising Bay Area rapper Iamsu on the hook, a long-awaited collaboration with the Hieroglyphics crew on "40 & Hiero," "Bust Moves," "Fast Lane," "I'm Laced" and many more. The tone varies from 40 Water's patented mob music sound to R&B-flavored tracks like "Salute You" and "Memory Lane" that encourage positivity and spirituality.

Vodka & Ayahuasca

Gangrene

Oh No and Alchemist's second album as Gangrene is on the same level as 2009's Gutter Water. The beats are crazy and occasionally brilliant -- check the Moroder-like synth stabs on "Drink Up" -- and the rhymes are dubious, though guest shots from more talented rappers like Roc Marciano, Evidence and Prodigy occasionally improve the latter. The L.A. producers' bumbling raps are beside the point -- they're just mere vocal spice to Vodka & Ayahuasca's thug vibes and rugged simplicity, from "Dump Truck" to "Auralac Bags."

Ill Manors (Music From And Inspired By The Original Motion Picture)

Plan B

With his soundtrack to his directorial debut, the film Ill Manors, Ben "Plan B" Drew is evolving into one of the best dramatists of U.K. urban life since The Streets. But whereas The Streets' Mike Skinner was irrepressibly funny, Plan B allows just a sliver of optimism into his grimy kitchen-sink tales. Ill Manors packs a hard punch: "I Am the Narrator" sets the stage for a dystopia of hellish conditions, and "Great Day for a Murder" is a frightening tale of a child forced to commit homicide. The deluxe edition includes moody instrumental snippets from the movie and a bonus song, "Michelle."

Live From The Underground

Big K.R.I.T.

Big K.R.I.T. faces high expectations with his retail debut, which follows stellar mixtapes like 2011's Return of 4eva. Challenged with bringing his Dirty South classicism to the pop market, he tries mightily to knock out club jams like "Yeah Dats Me," shares lessons from his working-class family on "Rich Dad, Poor Dad," and gets high while "Hydroplaning." Thoughtful to a fault, he struggles to fit his ideas, from social insights to pimping hoes, into an album that justifies the hype. But the infectious joy of his music proves that the effort was worth it.

Chimera

Homeboy Sandman

"I don't beef, I just bounce," says Homeboy Sandman on "Cops Get Scared of Me" as he lays out a portrait of an MC who defies convention; he's a rapper who speaks honestly but avoids violent conflict, claiming "I don't use my verses to sell sh*t" on "I Do Whatever I Want," and offering comfort to the unemployed and broken-hearted on "Hold Your Head." Chimera's appeal lies in getting to know someone who's lyrically savvy enough to explain why he's left-of-center, as well as the dreamlike production from Paul White and others that makes this sound like a trip into an iconoclastic mind.

Grief Pedigree

NYC vet Ka, formerly part of '90s crew Natural Elements, embraces Rotten Apple nostalgia. His dirt-encrusted soul loops, the memories of popping off gats, and slanging white powder have been heard from Roc Marciano (who drops in on "Iron Age"), Action Bronson and others. Grief Pedigree's saving grace is Ka's admission that he's not an invincible street soldier. "Up against Goliath to bring butter home/ I'm David on pavements, sling another stone," he rues. Through "Chamber" and "No Downtime," he explains that there's more at stake than boom bap revivalism.

Raw Money Raps

Jeremiah Jae

This L.A. rapper's sound is diffuse, often communicated in whispers and buried beneath vinyl record hiss. In fact, he's less of a conventional rapper than a vocalist who rhymes and sings plaintively over his beats (as well as a few contributions from Flying Lotus). It's an enigmatic performance with shades of Madlib, Gonjasufi, and Odd Future, but it yields big payoffs. There's the staccato keyboard-funk of "Money and Food," the melancholy blues loop of "Money," and the dripping-water effects of "Seasons," where he admits, "When the seasons start to change, I find I'm out of place."

Cancer 4 Cure

El-P

Cancer 4 Cure revisits familiar territory: knotty raps on urban paranoia and police state tactics, and "constellation funk" that increasingly resembles industrial prog-rock. It takes multiple listens to process, and the payoff isn't as tremendous as past classics like Fantastic Damage. Still, there's something to be said for virtually inventing your own hip-hop sub-genre -- his closest precedent may be Nine Inch Nails. The clear storylines of "Tougher Colder Killer" and "For My Upstairs Neighbor" have a velocity that the rest of El's murky yet memorably abrasive album sometimes lacks.

awE naturalE

THEESatisfaction

THEESatisfaction flooded their native Seattle with self-released music well before their work on Shabazz Palaces' critically-acclaimed Black Up led to a record deal. Like Black Up, the two women's awE NaturalE presents alternative soul mixed with spiritual raps. "Leave your face at the door, turn off your swag," they offer on "QueenS" and its deep-house groove; "naturalE" has the kind of rhythmic synth-funk popularized by Sa-Ra. These 13 tracks often end abruptly, as if in mid-sentence, and are puzzle pieces for a portrait of two seductively enigmatic Northwest bohemians.

The Stoned Immaculate

Curren$y

Curren$y claims that The Stoned Immaculate is his first "real" album, but it sounds no different from his other retail releases. He continues to follow the blueprint of cash-and-hoes metaphors and ambient "cloud" beats established on 2010's excellent Pilot Talk. These songs are buttery smooth, and Curren$y makes flipping rhymes look too easy; he doesn't infuse his baller's tales with the same dramatic pomp as, say, Rick Ross. It often takes a guest star to spice up the track, whether it's Wale on "What It Look Like," Marsha Ambrosius on "Take You There" or 2 Chainz on "Capitol."

Plateau Vision

Lushlife

"Don't worry if I really bucked a nine," warns Lushlife on "Anthem," the gloriously psychedelic centerpiece of his second album. But questions of whether this Philadelphia artist is an authentic hip-hop artist or not are moot. Imaginatively, he intersperses old Kool Moe Dee routines, French dialogue and Main Ingredient samples into woozily blissful beats, while reminiscing of growing up in his native Philly. The music is so pretty that it overshadows his sometimes awkward rhymes. Cities Aviv, STS and Heems of Das Racist add guest vocals on this underground gem.

Father Creeper

Spoek Mathambo

This South African art-rock wild man hits hard on his Sub Pop debut, a dazzling collage of Afropop, electro, raging alt-rock, exuberant hip-hop and a dozen other polyglot styles. His rubbery voice conjures up TV on the Radio, but fractured-soul eccentric Cody Chesnutt looms large, too. There's a lot to absorb here, but the playful, pummeling "Let Them Talk" is a fine entry point, and the lyrics throughout are an evocative trip, be they soft ("We'll have our tombstones stuck together") or defiantly hard ("Play me some Tupac/ Get in your ride/ Snortin' gunpowder/ And drinkin' cane wine").

1991

Azealia Banks

Twitterverse beefs with rivals real and perceived (Iggy Azalea, Lil' Kim) has led a lot of people to dismiss Azealia Banks as a jerk, which is too bad because she has real talent. On her 1991 EP she channels dance legends like Sweet Pussy Pauline, flexes raunchy lyrics with as much skill as Nicki Minaj, and sings coquettishly over fantastic deep house beats like on "1991" and "212." Azealia's sexy and nasty attitude is part of her allure, but it sounds much better over this hip-house gem.

Life Is Good

Nas

On the cover for Life is Good, Nas drapes a green dress on his knee -- the same dress his ex-wife Kelis wore at their wedding. Save for "Bye Baby," the album isn't about her; instead, he addresses how the world perceives him. He notes his disdain for interviews on "Back When," and how some believe he "overthinks the songs he writing," and rues his teenage daughter's Twitter account on the lovely "Daughters." The melodic production from Salaam Remi and No I.D. is strong yet restrained; it leaves space for Nas' torrents of rhymes, the key to his status as one of hip-hop's best rappers.

Kenny Dennis EP

Serengeti

Serengeti may be one of the most underrated writers of his day, but he has such a jaundiced view that he often hides his best jokes under rueful cynicism. So this odd concept based around made-up rap dude Kenny "Kdz" Dennis sounds liberating. It's a parody of '90s hip-hop culture by rap nerds, from Jel and Odd Nosdam's neo-boom-bap beats and the corny fast-rap "Top That" to a dis of Shaquille "Shaq Fu" O'Neal ("Shazam"). But anyone who digs into Serengeti's deep-dish Chicago-ese accent and sports-talk defense of Steve Bartman ("Don't Blame Steve") will find it imaginative and hilarious.

Reloaded (Deluxe Edition)

Roc Marciano

Roc Marciano's second album is even better than his hailed debut, Marcberg. That album was dependent on electrifying blaxploitation riffs, but his beats on Reloaded are a purer kind of menace, and built with psychedelic vibes and abstract fusion jazz. (The Alchemist, who produces "Flash Gordon" and "Pistolier," is a clear influence.) The result is impressively disorienting. And with scant hooks to pause him -- the chorus for "We Ill," for example, is just the title repeated -- his torrent of lyrics and mean-mugging braggadocio piles up into a beautiful "Death Parade."

R.A.P. Music

Killer Mike

Killer Mike's R.A.P. Music is a curveball even by the standards of a career marked by numerous twists. But it's deeper than a blog-rap gimmick. El-P curbs his skronk/noise tendencies and adds bass bottom to his tracks, while Killer Mike spits rhymes with clarity and mostly without the dumb thug fantasies that sometimes cloud his vision. (The clever drug-dealer story "JoJo's Chillin'" is an exception.) The result is a satisfying blend of unique styles, Mike's drawling aggression to El's industrial funk, and songs like "Willie Burke Sherwood" and "Big Beast."