The Ten Best Albums of 2013

These year end lists are always kind of a load of bullshit when you think about it. They take something completely subjective like art and force you to slap a number on it. That being said, they are very fun to write, and for the reader, equally fun to tear apart. So what's the common thread here? There has to be some sort of theme to all of this killer music, right?

2012 will always be remembered in my mind as the Year of the Rookie. Young guns provided a refreshing change of pace, and it seemed as though this new wave of talent would replace the acts we had come to cherish over the past decade. In contrast, 2013 saw big names come back in big ways (holograms? Surprise album releases? Interactive music videos? Live-stream concerts directed by Steve Buscemi?), showing that the previous year was not a vacation, but rather a time for them and their publicity teams to hatch ideas for their eventual return. No, we didn't get proper follow-up records from Kendrick Lamar, Frank Ocean, or Tame Impala (fingers crossed for 2014), but more importantly, who cares when Arcade Fire, Daft Punk, and Justin Timberlake show that they’re not ready to leave any time soon? Looking through this lens (with some notable exceptions, see numbers 7, 9, and 10), I give you my favorite albums of the year:

10. CHVRCHES- The Bones of What You Believe

CHVRCHES is one of those bands you can't help but root for. The Scottish electro-pop trio dish out every serving of catchy hooks and sparkling synths with a bit of harsh reality. The sound of lead singer Lauren Mayberry's voice alone will put you in an upbeat mood, but upon further inspection, the group's songs deal mostly with fractured relationships and trying to regain trust in loved ones. These hard-nosed lyrics go perfectly with fluttery numbers like "Gun," where Mayberry sings, "Hide, hide, I will burn your bridges/ Now I'll be a gun, and it's you I'll come for." On The Bones of What You Believe, CHVRCHES have put together an astonishingly solid first outing that will leave you pushing for these guys and wondering why Top 40 radio can't sound this good.

9. Chance The Rapper- Acid Rap

It's almost dizzying how talented Chance The Rapper can be sometimes. Acid Rap finds the young Chicago MC tripping out and going in on cosmic beats. You can imagine him in the booth, jumping up and down like the spaz he is on "Good Ass Intro." He goes straight through the roof on "Chain Smoker," only to float safely down to earth by the end. "Everybody's Something" is a beautifully removed, ultimately uplifting song that everyone from Chief Keef to your high school english teacher can appreciate. The true jaw dropper, however, is "Pusha Man." What starts off as a light-hearted nod to Curtis Mayfield ends up changing the tone of the entire album with the switch of a beat. If he’s not careful, he might change the tone of the whole damn genre.

8. Justin Timberlake- The 20/20 Experience (Part One)

Let’s make this clear: Part two of The 20/20 Experience was a major disappointment, but can we just return to that moment in March when JT slid onto the SNL stage and did such a slick rendition of “Suit and Tie” that even my dad had to give him props? Can we go back there, when everything was awesome? Timberlake teams up with Timbaland again, but rather than trying to recreate 2007's Future Sex/Love Sounds, the duo have cooked up a batch of songs with great variety. "Spaceship Coupe" finds him ridin' round Mars, and the very next track, "That Girl," finds him in a musty Memphis bar. Yes, some of these songs are far too long if you’re going to sit down and listen to this thing all the way through, but this ain’t that kind of album. Even at its most heartfelt (“Tunnel Vision,” “Mirrors”), this album, like any good Timberlake album, commands you to dance. So for the love of Christ, shut up and let the groove get in.

7. Earl Sweatshirt- Doris

Earl Sweatshirt has always struck me as the least weird of the weirdos in Odd Future. It seems like he's the one of the bunch that got unknowingly roped into all of the madness. Earl's Doris tries to organize the many complicated emotions this young group has experienced since their whirlwind rise to stardom. "Burgundy," "Sunday," "Hive," and "Chum" are among the group's greatest cuts to date, and while Earl doesn't necessarily have an answer to every problem he brings up here, that's perfectly alright. This guy has a long career ahead of him, and as impressive as Doris is, you have to remember that this kid is only 19, and these journeys into his psyche are only going to get clearer and clearer as time goes on. Maybe that's why so many people find Earl so appealing: he's a normal kid trying to make sense of a strange situation. Or maybe it's because he raps about screwing nuns.

6. Danny Brown- Old

Old is about as bipolar as any album released this year. The first half finds Danny Brown returning to his Detroit roots, a run of the mill gangster with a deep voice who transports us to the horrors of the streets. He roles through the destruction with no mercy on songs like the Outkast homage "The Return" with Freddie Gibbs ("Done rose out them ashes, drinking Fiji water/ Wanna pull me in that fire when I'm tryna feed my daughter/ Wanna snatch my momma's plate, and tell her she can't eat/ And we gone have us some discrepancies right here in this skreet"), and walks us through his nightmares on "Torture" ("Gunshots outside was sorta like fireworks/ We know they ain't fireworks; it's December 21st/ Cold winter with a kerosene heater/ On the couch so cold you can't take off your sneakers"). But at some point in the middle, perhaps during the onslaught of "Red 2 Go," something snaps, and the second half sees the Adderall Admiral go on a drug-fueled bender no mere mortal could ever survive ("Dip," "Break It [Go]," "Handstand," "Kush Coma"). It all comes to a close with Danny Brown rising above both halves of his persona in a moment of clarity on "Float On." "Pray I get old just to hear I been the future/ Just to see my influence in this genre of music," he mumbles at the end, and considering Old's compelling character portrait and innovative production, there's no doubt that his influence will be quite large.

5. Daft Punk- Random Access Memories

Welcome to Boogie Nights as seen by two robots. Random Access Memories is much more than Daft Punk's disco album, it's an alternate dimension where two supernatural producers have crash-landed into 1970's America in order to spread funk to the masses. Collaboration with other artists has not always been a selling point for this duo (the helmets must put up some social barriers), but all the greatest moments on their latest album come when they are able to transport their guests back in time. Nile Rodgers and Pharrell Williams hit the dance floor on the summer smash "Get Lucky" and "Lose Yourself To Dance." Paul Williams trembles on the haunting "Touch." Even indie stars Julian Casablancas of the Strokes ("Instant Crush") and Panda Bear of Animal Collective ("Doin' It Right") get in on the fun. RAM is an inter-gallactic jam-fest, one that will have you electing to get beamed up again and again.

4. Pusha T- My Name Is My Name

Call it a coke rap classic. After multiple release date push-backs, Pusha-T finally went solo with My Name Is My Name, and the results are phenomenal. Everything you could want from a hip-hop CD is right here. "Numbers On The Boards" showcases Push's talents over a hard-knocking Kanye West beat. "Sweet Serenade" is a strong candidate for strip club anthem of the year. The-Dream assisted "40 Acres" is about holding on to your dignity. "Who I Am," with 2 Chainz and Big Sean, is about holding on to DI$ MONEY! But all of these issues play second-fiddle to what is really paramount to Pusha-T, and that is the business. The blaring "Nosetalgia" and the vengeful "S.N.I.T.C.H" are harrowing reminders of how inescapable the drug culture is in America once you have been immersed in it. On "Numbers On The Boards," a quick Jay-Z sample interjects, "Motherfuckers can't rhyme no more, bout crime no more." Pusha-T makes him eat those words.

3. Arcade Fire- Reflektor

It's only once you get to "Afterlife," the immensely satisfying penultimate track on Reflektor, that Arcade Fire really start to sound like Arcade Fire again. Up until this point, we get 70's Bowie ("Reflektor"), Haitian dance music ("Flashbulb Eyes," "Here Comes The Night Time"), and garage blues reminiscent of the White Stripes ("Normal Person"). With James Murphy coaching them on the sideline, they even take a stab at playing the role of LCD Soundsystem on "Porno." Instead of releasing another spectacular arena-rock album that everyone knows they are capable of making, they have taken the high road and made something that lives up to its name and reflects the work of other artists right back at them. Reflektor is Arcade Fire desperately trying to be something, ANYTHING other than Arcade Fire. The end product is a bit of an overwhelming mess the first time you sift through it, but this double album proves to be incredibly cohesive with additional listening. Arcade Fire try on many masks and disguises on Reflektor, but the best costume they dawn here, on songs like "Awful Sound (Oh Eurydice)" and "It's Never Over (Oh Orpheus)," is the all too elusive "timeless band" suit. Guess what, it fits them perfectly.

2. Vampire Weekend- Modern Vampires of the City

You don't have to totally jump ship and redefine your style to make a great album. Vampire Weekend's latest work finds them doing exactly what they’ve done in the past, but this time they do it to perfection. There are so many fine lines these guys walk in their music, and they do it all so gracefully. To balance traditional African rhythms and happy-go-lucky rock, baroque compositions and Cape Cod summer playlist material, lyrics that a literature scholar can pour over and lines like "Baby, baby, baby, baby, right on time,"…. there are a million wrong turns they could take, but they manage to avoid every single one. The spectrum of emotions you feel throughout this album is huge. One moment you’ll want to light a car on fire (“Diane Young”), the next all you’ll want is a hug (“Hannah Hunt,” “Everlasting Arms”), and not a single transition feels forced. After releasing Modern Vampires of the City, VW could have easily taken the traditional indie route and become a bunch of pompous recluses. Instead, they did a cover of "Blurred Lines." If you still think these dudes are a bunch of uppity Columbia grads after seeing everything they've accomplished in 2013, I hate to break it to you friend, but it's time to have that stick up your ass removed.

1. Kanye West- Yeezus

I refuse to contribute any more talking points (like there are any left that haven't been covered) to the massive ongoing discussion surrounding Kanye West and Yeezus. Simply put, Yeezus is the best album of 2013. It rocks. Nothing beat it this year. If you want to know why, look at any credible music publication's review (you can also check mine out here). Say what you want about Kanye West as a person, you'd be certifiably insane if you thought he's 100% normal or right about EVERYTHING he says, but the music is still there. It's demanding, entertaining, and it's begging you to listen to it. Heed the call.

Honorable Mention:

A$AP Rocky- Long.Live.A$AP:
Just missed the cut. While not quite as good as the mixtape that put him on the map, Rocky proves he can be a superstar on his debut album.

Disclosure- Settle:
The best EDM of the year. And you don't feel like a douchebag listening to it.

Run The Jewels- Run The Jewels:
Killer Mike and El-P: Fuck boys know the combination ain't healthy.

Janelle Monae- The Electric Lady:
Why she hasn't become a household name by now honestly boggles my mind. Janelle delivers again.

Savages- Silence Yourself:
Their performance on Fallon made me a believer. A real "cut the shit and let us play" type of band.

Thundercat- Apocalypse:
He'll break your mind with his bass guitar, and then piece it back together with his falsetto.

The National- Trouble Will Find Me:
More baritone blundering. It's the best dad-rock money can buy.

HAIM- Days Are Gone:
Jewish girls rock! Something tells me these three sisters are going to be around for a long time.

Kendrick’s Verse on “Control”:
Why not? It has more memorable moments than most full albums, right?

Q-Tip and Busta Rhymes Reflect on the Past, Add to their Collection with "The Abstract and The Dragon"

         

            If you want to understand why Busta Rhymes and Q-Tip have continued working together over the years, and more importantly, why that is such a good thing, take a quick look at their 1992 performance with the rest of A Tribe Called Quest and the Leaders of the New School on the Arsenio Hall Show. It's a raucous atmosphere from the second Ali Shaheed Muhammed drops the beat, but it's Q-Tip and Busta Rhymes in particular that raise the energy to a whole new level. With "Yo Mr. Busta Rhymes, tell em what you did," (and the love tap to go along with it), Tip throws up an alley-oop for Bussa Bus to slam home. The Abstract sets the stage, the beast is unleashed, and the crowd goes nuts. The two are stylistically a match made in heaven, one rapping barely above a whisper, the other RAWR-RAWRing like a dungeon dragon. It would have been a shame for this incredible tag team to stop after "Scenario." Luckily, they revisited this chemistry several times throughout the years, and it is all here for your enjoyment on The Abstract and The Dragon.

            Before we continue any further, let it be known that The Abstract and The Dragon is by no means a full-length album of new material. This is a true mixtape, and much of its focus lies in covering all of the songs they have created together over the past 22 years. The fact that these two have agreed to release classics of theirs for free in addition to some really impressive new stuff, as they both prepare to launch studio albums of their own in the upcoming year, is very generous. Whether it's made for radio hits like the Pharrell produced "For The Nasty," or lesser known gems like "Lightworks," a recording that finds them rapping over a J Dilla beat from Donuts with Talib Kweli, the tape corrals all of their past efforts and puts them all in one convenient place. There is a real sense of camaraderie between these guys, and it seems as though whenever they get together in the studio, their main goal is to impress each other. 

            This release is more than just a retrospective, however, as they remind us that they haven't lost a step since their Native Tongues Posse days. "Thank You" is the clear highlight here, a soulful groove that sees Q-Tip display the kind of chops that have made his fast-rapping partner in crime famous. Speaking of partners in crime, we also have "Butch & Sundance," a hard thumping triumph that dismisses potential competitors ("Do it together, do it forever/ Bust grand, imperial rhymes, finish billing your crimes/ Oh shit, another verse, get in line first/ For what it's worth, did it all, did it first"). Other notable tracks include the determined "We Taking Off," and the remix to "Renaissance Rap," which also features Raekwon and Lil Wayne. They even take some time to rewrite history, as Busta  mentions, "I always wanted to rhyme on this shit," before adding his own verse on A Tribe Called Quest's "God Lives Through," a song that already samples his voice. 

            At the end of "Get Down," another new offering, Busta Rhymes yells, "Ayo, engineer, cut the fucking beat off! Ayo, Kamaal, what the fuck are we doing this shit for man?" He puts on a giant show as Q-Tip gets lost in a fit of uncontrollable laughter. You get a sense from listening to these two legends pal around that they genuinely enjoy making music with each other, and this is not something they had to do under contractual obligation, but rather something they wanted to do to commemorate and add to their outstanding body of work. While a project full of completely brand new songs will probably never come to fruition, The Abstract and The Dragon is a welcome Christmas gift from one of the rap industry's greatest odd couples. Download from 2dopeboyz.com here.

Neil Young's Live At The Cellar Door Is Perfect Melancholy, Early-December Music

             The titles of much of Neil Young's early material let you know what you're getting into before you even commit to listening. Names like "Bad Fog of Loneliness," "Only Love Can Break Your Heart," and "See The Sky About To Rain" pretty much speak for themselves. Live At The Cellar Door, Neil Young's newly unearthed 1970 set from this famous D.C venue, is the kind of unbelievably stripped-down performance that almost makes you feel as though the artist is playing directly to you as an individual. Armed with nothing but an acoustic guitar and a piano, no backing band in sight, we are reminded of how masterfully written his songs are even in their most basic form. Fans of After The Gold Rush era Young will be pleased, as he traverses the album's most poignant offerings ("Tell Me Why," "After The Gold Rush," "Birds," "Don't Let It Bring You Down"). No, you won't find "Southern Man," "Ohio," or any of his more politically charged tunes, but again, this is a more personal side of Neil Young. He shares his greatest fears ("Old Man"), his deepest desires ("Cinnamon Girl"), and his most intimate memories ("I Am A Child"). The release of this gem could not have come at a more convenient time, for while it fits the dark, why-can't-it-just-be-Christmas-already December mood perfectly, Live At The Cellar Door reminds us that we're not alone in these feelings. Nearing the end of the show, Young chuckles to himself and tells the audience, "You'd laugh too, you know, if this is what you did for a living." It's enough to make almost anyone crack a smile during this particularly melancholy part of the year. Stream from Rolling Stone here.

2013 Catch-Up: My Name Is My Name Review

         

            How do you write about the same things over and over again without making it sound old? When Pusha-T was recently asked what people could expect from his solo debut, My Name Is My Name, the Clipse rapper was quick to make comparisons with Jay-Z’s Reasonable Doubt, Biggie’s Ready To Die, and Raekwon’s Only Built 4 Cuban Linx. Now let’s think: besides the fact that these men are all lyrical titans, what else do they hold in common? Oh yeah. They sold drugs. They ALL sold drugs. And they ALL spoke about it in their songs. Content wise, Pusha-T has shown time and time again that he is not some sort of one-trick pony, but if Push wants you to leave with anything after listening to him, it’s that he was raised in the drug culture. That is the lens through which he views the rest of his life, especially his music. To many of us, this seems rather upsetting, but for Pusha-T, it is a triumphant outlook, for just as he beat the odds by surviving his dope peddling days, he has also risen victorious in the music industry. On Pusha-T’s My Name Is My Name, there is no differentiating between the two businesses. It’s right in the title (a reference to Marlo Stanfield, the most ruthless narcotics kingpin of all on the Baltimore street drama, The Wire) and on the album cover, a coke white background with a barcode stamped on. This man is going to do everything he can to sell us his product. Time to get our fix.

            Perhaps the most striking thing about the tracklist of My Name Is My Name is what is absent. Gone are the Rick Ross featuring anthem “Millions,” the Jamaican gangster themed “Blocka,” and the Young Money beef track “Exodus 23:1.” While these tracks that were once speculated to be centerpieces of the album are all solid in their own right, Push and chief producer/Pusha-T super-fan Kanye West have shown tremendous restraint in their song selection. In doing so, the two have created an album that precisely follows the classic gangster rap album blueprint.

            Pusha-T comes out swinging on the excellent “King Push,” where he manages to embody the spirit of a prizefighter ready to take the ring. If “King Push” sees the “G.O.O.D Music golden child” deliver a barrage of punches on the speed-bag, the chilling, bass booming “Numbers On The Boards” sees our man throw deliberate bone-crunching blows to the body bag. “Givenchy fittin’ like it’s gym clothes/ We really gymstars, I’m like D-Rose/ No D-League, I’m like this close/ '88 Jordan jumping from the free-throw.” We are watching a professional at peak form. This cutthroat rawness doesn’t end there, as the Pharrell produced “Suicide” sounds like vintage Clipse (“When it comes to shooters my ni**as is trained to go/ And they gettin’ practice on bitches who breaking codes”). Penultimate track “Pain,” featuring Future, conjures up images of fire and brimstone, along with all sorts of demons that have laid dormant in Pusha-T’s soul.

            While the above mentioned songs are sure to be quoted in droves due to Pusha T’s flawless lyrical dexterity, it is the more conceptual songs that propel My Name Is My Name to greatness. “Hold On” sees Pusha-T and Rick Ross extend a hand to fellow hustlers, as they know all too well the struggles that come with both growing up under adversity and suddenly acquiring new fortune. Ross laments, “Chasing my paper, couldn’t fathom my wealth/ Built a school in Ethiopia, should enroll in myself.” Push teams up with the currently infallible Kendrick Lamar on “Nosetalgia,” as each rapper represents a different side of the drug lifestyle, the former as the smooth, confidant pusher man, and the latter as the manic, traumatized family member. “S.N.I.T.C.H," another song produced by Pharrell and the Neptunes, focuses on the cardinal sin of the crime world, as Pusha-T reflects on a former friend turned enemy.

            In the midst of all of this serious subject matter, Pusha-T still manages to have some fun. He lets rap’s court jester, 2 Chainz, scream, “Hot fudge Sunday!  Poor it on ya, hallelujah!” on “Who I Am,” an ode to cockiness. Chris Brown sings the hook on “Sweet Serenade,” a song that will undoubtedly get its fair share of spins in V.I.P lounges across the country. He even manages to successfully smooth talk Kelly Rowland on the incredibly sleek “Let Me Love You.”

            Will My Name Is My Name be seen as a revolutionary album years from now? Probably not. But that’s never been Pusha T’s goal. His interests don’t lie in redefining himself or rap music, but rather in broadening those definitions with added perspective. Pusha-T is a hip-hop conservative, unwilling to compromise the lifestyle he was raised to live by and appreciate. Oddly enough, My Name Is My Name is a complete success not in spite of the fact that it’s exactly what you’d expect from a Pusha-T solo album, but rather it is a complete success BECAUSE it’s exactly what you’d expect from a Pusha-T solo album. You know exactly what you're getting into, but that's okay. This is why King Push continues to be one of the strongest voices in hip-hop, because he without fail provides the freshest take on the same old shit.

           

2013 Catch-Up: Doris Review

            

            We’re three years into this experiment we call Odd Future, and what do we have to show for it? When a sudden spike in popularity gave the L.A outcasts a push into the national spotlight, they relished every last iota of attention they could get from anyone who was watching. As for the audience, there were only three items of which we were certain:

A. That ringleader of theirs is going to be in the news.
B. The guy who sings the hooks might have a career of his own to look forward to.
C. That 16 year old is nasty.

            Yes, Earl Sweatshirt seemed to be the proverbial Odd Future sleeper pick, as we all speculated that he would be the Eazy-E to Tyler, The Creator’s Ice Cube. After the news broke that our boy wonder was shipped oversees to Samoa, the crew’s lineup seemed much less intimidating, as Tyler, Hodgy, and Domo seemed to release enough material to keep listeners satisfied, but no full piece of work that could truly standup to their signature 2010 mixtape, Radical. The only true homerun they had since was not a rap album at all, but instead Frank Ocean’s silky smooth channel ORANGE. It seemed as though this group of rag-tag punks had more bark than bite, and Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All would fade into rap history as a short-lived fad with a core cult following.

            That was until Earl Sweatshirt started popping up again. Now that he is back and has released his long-awaited proper studio album, Doris, the rap world is ready to give these kids another chance to stay relevant and elevate their jarring style of lyricism to a new level.

            Doris is kicked off with an effortlessly cool verse delivered by SK Laflare on “Pre”, so before Earl can dive in at all, he is forced to puff out his chest and try to role with the big kids. He passes the test with flying colors, as the “Escobarbarian” slings double entendre after double entendre. This biggest-man-in-the-room, punch-throwing bravado resurfaces on “20 Wave Caps,” “Sasquatch,” and the newest Odd Future anthem, “Whoa,” as he raps circles around Domo and Tyler. This all culminates in the trunk-rattling “Hive,” where we find Earl fed up with the critics and delivering “that fucking flow that s-s-so belittles men.” He then makes good on his promise of channeling Gil Scott Heron for his second verse, drawing a link between his dissatisfaction with other rappers to the impoverished citizens of Los Angeles’ dissatisfaction with their living conditions. It’s all capped off with a killer appearance from rising star Vince Staples, as Earl proves that he is a force to be reckoned with.

            While Earl shows off plenty of his cocky side, the greatest moments on Doris come when this brooding teen sheds some light on his insecurities. On the Pharrell Williams produced “Burgundy,” Earl shares the blues of a kid caught between civilian life and rock star status. It’s this feeling of entrapment between two worlds and inhabiting the grey area that is persistent throughout the album. Earl and Frank Ocean are forced between spending the day getting stoned with friends or focusing on their passion for music on the spacey, Chris Brown-dissing “Sunday,” not feeling completely comfortable choosing either side. “All my dreams got more vivid when I stopped smoking pot/ Nightmares got more vivid when I stopped smoking pot.” Good luck with that one, guys.

            Earl delves deeper into these feelings on “Chum,” the most brutally honest song we have seen from Earl thus far, as he laments, “Too black for the white kids, and too white for the blacks/ From honor roll to cracking locks up off them bicycle racks/ I’m indecisive, I’m scatterbrained, and I’m frightened, it’s evident.” It’s almost enough to make you want to give him a hug, until you remember that he’d probably want to beat the shit out of you if you tried.

            Like other OFWGKTL offerings before it, the album does have its duds. Don’t expect much from the hazy Mac Miller collaboration “Guild.” “Centurion” and the instrumental “503” feel like nothing more than mildly unsettling detours. However, Doris succeeds over other Odd Future albums because for the most part it skips out on the skits, side plots concerning multiple personality disorders, and all the other bullshit that has plagued offerings that have come before it. In their place, we find a surplus of lyrical gymnastics and unique production. “Hoarse” opens with echoes of guitar that sound like they are coming from the end of a long hallway, and the RZA produced “Molasses” feels like a stroll through the park interrupted by a heart monitor. All the while, Earl sounds like he is half asleep as flawless poetry seems to just roll out of his mouth with no effort whatsoever.

            It’s already interesting enough that the RZA contributed “Molasses” to this project, but as the album’s closer “Knight” ends things with Domo and Earl teaming up on the same sample (although slowed down a bit) that was used on Raekwon’s “New Wu,” it brings back memories of when Rolling Stone penned Odd Future as “The New Wu-Tang Clan.” While they may never reach the same level as the Staten Island legends, if nothing else, Odd Future will always have Doris to its name, a truly awesome rap album from start to finish.
            

2013 Catch-Up: Born Sinner Review

         

            How do you meet lofty expectations? After his thoroughly disappointing debut, Cole World- The Sideline Story, J. Cole dusts himself off and takes one more stab at a proper studio album with Born Sinner, a record that promises more than it can deliver. To say that the pressure on J. Cole to create something that will shock the rap world is high would be an understatement, as fans have set their full attention on him ever since his signing with Jay-Z’s Roc Nation label in 2009. To stack this effort up against the great rap albums of all-time might seem unfair, but this is exactly the rubric with which J. Cole seems to encourage his listeners to grade him. Overtly sampling Outkast and A Tribe Called Quest, comparing his character to Jay-Z and his ability to speak the truth to 2Pac, moving his release date to challenge Kanye West, and taking the album’s title from a Biggie-ism, Cole invites comparison after comparison to the genre’s legends. Unfortunately, we fail to see more than mere glimmers of original offerings that Cole himself is bringing to the table, while all of the above listed names had developed personas and styles that had made them stand out at this stage in their careers.

            Cole insists, “It’s way darker this time,” at the very beginning of our trip through Born Sinner, but in comparison to what? If it is in comparison to Cole World, that would be like a screenplay writer insisting his next script is way darker than Elf. ANYTHING will pass that test. Still, J. Cole does show signs of maturity, using clever wordplay to mock his generation for listening to Trinidad James and inquiring about his affiliation with made-up secret societies in “Villuminati.” He’s ready to be an adult and tackle larger issues, but in many cases the topics that Cole covers are not nearly as heavy as he believes they are, and are either dull (“Chaining Day”) or have already been explored in greater depth (“Crooked Smile”, whose only saving grace is the appearance of TLC, feels like a carbon copy of Kendrick Lamar’s “No Make-Up," or even worse, Bruno Mars’ “Just The Way You Are”). Other times his focus seems to be a bit scattered, struggling to deliver a clear message (“Trouble”). Couple that with a sanctity vs. sin theme that doesn’t seem fully fleshed out, and you have an album that certainly suffers from its share of rough patches.

            That is not to say that Born Sinner doesn’t have its moments of redemption. The production on the album is impressive considering it was almost entirely undertaken by Cole himself, who is continuing to improve as a beat-maker (hopefully this will bode well for his collaboration with Kendrick Lamar, due out some time in the next year). “Power Trip” (featuring soul-singing extraordinaire Miguel) is miles ahead of any other pop crossover hit he has attempted to make, and looked at in the context of being a love letter to hip-hop much like Common’s “I Used To Love H.E.R," it is quite beautiful. The Carolina rapper is able to show off his chops on “Mo Money” and “Ain’t That Some Shit," the only complaint being that these interludes weren’t a bit longer. The true prize, however, is towards the end, as J. Cole confronts his past failures accompanied by what can only be described as, in the best of ways, a sweaty lounge saxophonist on the straight-shooting “Let Nas Down.” He speaks of losing sight of why he began rapping and how he disappointed the one lyricist he worshiped above all others on his way to the top of the charts. J. Cole asks future rappers to heed his warnings, proclaiming “Long live the idols may they never be your rivals.” It seems to be the only instance where he successfully develops his own identity through mentioning another rapper. Followed up by the full-hearted cut “Born Sinner” featuring Cocaine 80s singer James Fauntleroy, the end of Born Sinner manages to make up for some of the weaker songs that come before it.

            I’ve been a fan of J. Cole since my brother showed me his mixtapes when I was just starting high school. I could sit here for hours and talk about how angry I am that he sampled “Da Art of Storytellin’ (Part One)” by Outkast on “LAnd of Snakes” and “Electric Relaxation” by A Tribe Called Quest on “Forbidden Fruit," and did neither of those songs justice, but my frustration comes less from a place of resentment for challenging the hip-hop gods and more of a desire to here him do something completely original. J. Cole has spent far too much time lurking in the shadows of rappers that are more talented than him, as the constant namedrops that plague so many of his songs have become nothing more than dead weight. Hopefully he will continue to take steps forward in the right direction, but at age 28, he’s not exactly a kid anymore, and if he doesn’t turn things around soon, all that potential he displayed back in 2009 may go to waste.

2013 Catch-Up: Yeezus Review

         

            How do you follow up a masterpiece? As one of the most widely appreciated hip-hop albums ever, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy saw Kanye West rise from the ashes of celebrity embarrassment like a phoenix, proving that despite his debacle at the 2009 VMA's, he still had a response for every 808s-bashing, “fish-dick” mocking naysayer: You can hate me, but I’ll be damned if you hate my music. And oh yes, his message was delivered. While the album failed to do as well commercially as some of the others in his catalogue, both critics of Kanye and hip-hop as a whole could not turn away from his endearing douchebaggery (“Runaway”), brash grab for the crown (“Power”), and uncanny ability to get the absolute best out of himself and his hand picked team of all-stars (“Monster”, “Devil In A New Dress”, “So Appalled”). Following that up with two huge summers featuring a victory lapwith one of the greatest rappers of all time and an ambitious effort that saw him carry his G.O.O.D Music brothers on his back, Kanye West kept doing the unthinkable, raising the bar higher and higher to places that he knew only he would one day be able to reach.

            Fast-forward to June 2013, following a series of jarring projections of West’s face on citybuildings across the globe and a bone-chilling SNL performance. Yeezus, the title and album cover alone stirring up unparalleled press for rap, was the album of the summer even before people had heard any actual studio recordings. Kanye worshipers such as myself searched the catacombs of the web only to find nothing more than a minute and change of “New Slaves.”

            And then the shit hit the fan. Vines galore sprouted up chronicling his Governor’s Ball performance. Primal screams? Blasts of synth? What does this man have in store for us? Is this what the future of rap sounds like? The album would leak shortly after, as people around the world stopped, put on their head phones, and turned the volume all the way up. Some loved it. Some hated it. The only thing anyone knew for sure was that this was new ground for hip hop.

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            Yeezus stands as a drastic shift in sound for the king of Chi-city. While Kanye’s calling card has always been his lush, beautiful soul samples, he is insistent on flaunting his newfound love of new wave. “How much do I not give a fuck?” he asks in the middle of “On Sight” before dangling a rich gospel melody from the Holy Name of Mary Choral Family Singers over our heads. Apparently not much, as he abruptly switches back to nothing more than piercing synthesizers and a drum machine. This can’t get any more out of control, right? Wrong. Each of these first four tracks make the last seem like horseplay, as we’re invited to buckle up for the Marylyn Manson sampling “Black Skinhead.” “I’m going 500 there’s no way to slow down!” he screams, letting us know that if we want to back out of Yeezus, it’s too late now, because we’re already witnesses. Next comes the declaration from Mount Olympus, “I Am A God," easily the most unsettling and controversial song by a man who is GREAT at creating unsettling and controversial songs. Ye has his defenses set on high for this one, taking on the many heretics who have told him what he can and can’t say, where he can and can’t go, and worst of all, what he can and can’t wear. Ending this four song suite with “New Slaves,” a song so unbelievably raw and lyrically cut throat that the man himself has deemed the second verse the greatest of all-time (a stretch, I know), you can’t help but wonder if you can take another right hook to the chin and live to see the rest of this album. Luckily, “New Slaves” comes to an end with the first signal that Kanye will in fact let his guard down and be personable on this album, as he desperately tries to break through to us in one of his trademark autotune solos, followed by the sweet crooning of Frank Ocean and guitar play by Hungarian rock band Omega. Yeezus is tired of being a god for now.

            The next four songs give us an honest look at the rap mogul, or at least an insight into how he sees himself. West’s desperation to be good and tendency to be bad are at complete odds here, which is shown by pairs of features that are so strange you need to hear them to actually believe that they exist. Downtrodden Justin Vernon of Bon Iver wallows while Chicago street soldier Chief Keef shouts in a drunken stupor on “Hold My Liquor.” A horrified Nina Simone belts out the Billie Holiday classic “Strange Fruit” on “Blood On The Leaves,” pitted against the trap producer Hudson Mohawke’s hard hitting drums and blaring horns. On the whirling “Guilt Trip”, dark and distorted voodoo emanates from the Pusha T song “Blocka,” only to be met head-on by the hopeless romantic Kid Cudi, begging for an answer to the question “If you love me so much then why’d you let me go?” It’s an epic battle of good vs. evil, and along the way, our host speaks of over-indulgence, infidelity, and Hollywood-scale heartbreak.

            By the time we reach the crowd-pleasing conclusion “Bound 2,” a song that would fit right in with the likes of “Through The Wire,” “Slow Jamz,” and other College Dropout cuts, we are left wondering if Yeezus was some amazing fever dream, just a big ole’ practical joke. He returns to that all too pleasant “prom shit…that red cup all on the lawn shit,” like a pro, reminding us how he made his name in the first place. He’s still that “immature adult, insecure asshole” that we love to hate. But the rest of Yeezus did just happen, it’s all too real, and those interjections of Charlie Wilson singing “Nobody to love,” for dear life serve as a reminder that Yeezus has done what any great Kanye West album must do, which is to challenge rap music and himself to move forward and to sound great while doing it.

Welcome to The Shouting Match!

Hi everybody! Welcome to The Shouting Match! I named this thing that because at its core, that's all that music really is: an interesting way to be heard. This site, which I hope to update regularly (hope…), will mostly consist of reviews of new material, but may also feature opinion pieces on breaking news in the world of music, reviews of older albums, and the occasional list. While my first four reviews are all hip-hop albums, expect to see more rock, funk, blues, soul, pop, and other stuff in the future. I apologize if the first four albums seem a bit dated, I wrote these reviews when they came out, they just haven't gotten a proper home until now. Whether you enjoy what I have to say or not, let me know what you think! It's completely okay for you to trash my opinion, I love getting into debates about music. With that, I'll leave you to it.

-Jack Reibstein