Complex's Best Albums of 2014 (So Far)

“Where We Come From” is the debut album from Jamaican superstar Popcaan. Executive produced by Dre Skull and featuring productions from Dre Skull, Dubbel Dutch, Jamie Roberts, Anju Blaxx and Adde Instrumentals, Popcaan’s first full length offering sees his signature melodies and uplifting tones on thirteen original tracks. As musicologist Wayne Marshall writes in his essay on the album: “Where We Come From” gives voice, as the best reggae does, to the contradictions of life in a society rife with inequities and yet so rich. Whether odes to the ghetto or the good life, Popcaan’s lyrics bring realist portraits and utopian visions into dynamic tension. Songs about struggle and sex and happiness occupy the same space because they do. And whatever the topic, Popcaan’s infectious positivity comes through.

Following in the footsteps of fellow Black Hippy member Kendrick Lamar, ScHoolboy Q makes his major-label debut with *Oxymoron*, an album as thematically ambitious and sonically adventurous as Lamar\'s celebrated *good kid, m.A.A.d city*. Detailing Q\'s days as a drug dealer, hustler, and father, the record doesn\'t just open a vein; it practically bleeds to death, as on the album centerpiece \"Prescription/Oxymoron,\" a menacing track about the litany of bad vibes caused by drug use: \"I cry when nothing\'s wrong.\" Not that *Oxymoron* is a downer–far from it. \"Collard Greens\" is addictively rambunctious, daring listeners to not bounce with its circular bassline and jittery beat. And Q\'s flow is a thing to behold. He snarls, wheezes, croons, coos, barks, and caws, playing the lascivious lothario on \"The Studio,\" the boisterous party-starter on \"Man of the Year,\" and the unapologetic recidivist on, well, pretty much on every track. Indeed, Q more than lives up to his rep as Black Hippy\'s unhinged id.

Singer/songwriter/guitar-shredder Annie Clark\'s fourth studio album as St. Vincent is, simply, her best yet. While her catalog is full of twists and turns, including 2013 David Byrne collaboration *Love This Giant*, this self-titled release is both audacious *and* accessible, a canny balancing of Clark\'s experimental leanings with her pop sensibility. Amid a flurry of sonic textures ranging from the clamoring horn section of \"Digital Witness\" to the subdued balladry of \"Prince Johnny,\" Clark critiques our technology-obsessed culture (\"Huey Newton\"), satirizes suburban ennui (\"Birth in Reverse\"), and shares about her love for her mother (\"I Prefer Your Love\"). Her anxieties laid bare, the songwriter asserts herself via pyrotechnic guitar riffs, rhythmic somersaults, and a wayfaring vocal range, resulting in a vertiginous set that\'s as dizzying as it is captivating.

The star power of the guests on Future\'s second album—Kanye, Drake, Pharrell, Lil Wayne, and André 3000, among others—speaks to the near-insurmountable heights the Atlanta rapper has reached since his 2012 debut, *Pluto*. That he shows them all up explains how he got there. Take \"I Won,\" a solemn beat over which Kanye and Future exult their \"trophy\" wives. Where \'Ye rifles off shallow boasts, Future\'s verses are sincere, almost touching. On the sprightly surprise standout \"Benz Friendz,\" Future\'s ATL bro André 3000 dances around the whimsical beats like a peacock, but it\'s Future\'s husky baritone that brings the party. Dominated by Mike WiLL Made It\'s 16-ton production (tracks like \"My Momma\" and \"Honest\" lumber like they\'re dragging chains), *Honest* demolishes the line between hip-hop and R&B. Its Auto-Tune hooks, rat-a-tat verses, and confessional lyrics exemplify the best of both genres in 2014.

The fourth studio album by Sweden’s Little Dragon is exactly what it should be; *Nabuma Rubberband* follows the band’s trajectory from playful electro-jazz hinting at pop to its mirrored opposite. Their intoxicating brand of seductive electronic music tempers any commercial excess, resulting in a more accessible collection that\'s sophisticated and complex. Singer Yukimi Nagano has a jazzy soul feel that delivers a punch when needed (as on the lone hard-edged tune, “Klapp Klapp”), and, according to interviews, she unabashedly pays homage to the sultry side of Janet Jackson (Jackson’s “really slow stuff” makes “you feel like you’re floating,” she told *Rolling Stone*). Indeed, tracks like “Mirror” and “Pretty Girls” ooze with an \'80s R&B velvety-ness that runs on the fumes of chillwave, but a hazy cloud envelopes ”Pink Clouds” and “Only One.” Janet’s brother Michael flavors some of the more pop-oriented songs like “Paris” and the strings- and fingersnap-flavored title track, while the subdued swagger of downtempo club music swirls through “Underbart.” Little Dragon aren’t afraid of the “P” word (pop); they’ve mastered the art of sifting it to save the finer parts.

When Mac Miller released *Watching Movies With the Sound Off* in 2013, he\'d turned a corner personally and creatively. The bright, chipper style that marked the earlier part of his career pivoted to darker moods. Its follow-up *Faces*, released the following year, continued down that path, with the Pittsburgh rapper both basking in his growing profile and respect—“did it all without a Drake feature” and “did it all without a Jay feature,” he quips on the triumphant “Here We Go”—and grappling with his mortality. The declaration that he “might die before \[he\] detox\[es\]” on “Malibu” is haunting in hindsight, but in the moment, it was precisely that kind of rawness that made him so compelling. *Faces* captures Miller in transition. It\'s a collage of contrasting realities, a mind as capable of creation as it is annihilation. The woozy anxiety of “Friends” captures the pride of winning with the people who\'ve been there all along and the demons that have been there, too: “My grandma probably slap me for the drugs I got/I\'m a crackhead but I bought her diamonds, we love rocks.” Such clever turns of phrase make the project a kind of choose-your-own-adventure odyssey. Do you want to hear Miller as an agile wordsmith and producer fine-tuning the intricacies of his craft, as a blossoming artist defining success on his terms, or as a troubled young adult already beginning to see the writing on the wall? (“I inherited a thirst for self-destruction and I\'m scared of it,” he admits on the spaced-out “San Francisco.” “I\'m a bigger illusion than good marriages or what it means to be American.”) All would be true, and all are the bedrock and brilliance of *Faces*. Miller\'s generosity and willingness to evolve in front of an audience—a commitment to searching that extended from his beats and lyrics to his lived experiences—remains one of his greatest gifts to the world.

Although her first two studio albums had moments of girl-group sass, Swedish-born singer/songwriter Lykke Li has always been most powerful when the tempos come down. 2010’s *Wounded Rhymes* featured a mascara-stained ‘60s-influenced charmer called “Sadness is a Blessing”; Li’s third album, *I Never Learn*, hones this gift for wallowing with a collection of miserablist dream pop. Stacked with Wall of Sound strings, lean songwriting, and confessional drama, Li’s doleful highlights (“No Rest for the Wicked,” “Love Me Like I’m Not Made of Stone,” “Never Gonna Love Again”) are carefully constructed ballads that float along in a melancholy, reverb-washed haze. When she fades out with the mournful “Sleeping Alone,” *I Never Learn* emerges as a powerful artistic achievement, every bit as lonely as it is lovely.

*Beach House* takes all the darkest celebrations of trap rap—drugs, guns, sex—and filters them through the vulnerable croon of Ty Dolla $ign. The results are fantastic because of that juxtaposition. Even when Ty is exploring something sinister, his tone makes it impossible not to be drawn in. Produced by Ty’s constant partner DJ Mustard, “Paranoid” and “Or Nah” are no-brainers; with just the right mix of simplicity and eccentricity, these songs will still get play in 50 years. It\'s the slow, slippery “Work,” though, that is the album’s sleeper gem.

DJs Armand Van Helden and A-Trak have been spiking EDM\'s punch bowl as Duck Sauce since 2009, intoxicating revelers with party-hearty bangers like the disco-sampling \"aNYway\" and the sinfully catchy \"Barbra Streisand.\" For their long-awaited debut full-length, *Quack*, the duo\'s puckish abandon is in full swing. Joining the above tracks is the 2013 earworm \"It\'s You,\" here in all its quizzically catchy alien hoedown glory. The duo\'s record collection is as deep as their sense of humor is broad: \"Radio Stereo\" is a canny reworking of The Members\' 1982 postpunk sing-along \"Radio,\" while \"NRG\" samples Melissa Manchester\'s \"Energy\" for its ecstatic jazzercise vibe. In between the unapologetically exuberant beats are various sketches and snippets (sci-fi dialogue, prank calls, bird noises), which lend the album a retro variety-show vibe, like an EDM *American Bandstand hosted by Foghorn Leghorn.*

A-Trak & Armand Van Helden first splashed on the scene as Duck Sauce with the breakout hit "aNYway," a breath of fresh disco air in the distorted world of electronic music. Next up was "Barbra Streisand," a surprise global #1 smash and true pop culture milestone, complete with 70 million (and counting…) YouTube views, a Grammy nomination, and even a Glee cover! DS cemented their rep as dance music's official pranksters with MTV VMA-nominated clips like "It's You" (6 million views) and scene-stealing festival appearances accompanied by a 20-foot inflatable duck… yet all of this was just to set the stage for Quack, Duck Sauce's highly-anticipated full length studio debut. Fueled by the duo’s strong connection with New York hip-hop, Chicago house, disco debauchery, slapstick comedy and, of course, UFOs, no other group is capable of bringing the rich and visual tradition of sample-heavy music into the current pop and EDM trends of 2014. QUACK IS BACK!

On his first mixtape, Chicago rapper G Herbo eschews the heavy percussion of Chicago drill. Instead he floats on soulful sounds, like the chopped-up sample that forms the beat of “Fight or Flight” or the sped-up Stylistics loop that drives the somber and touching “Write Your Name.” At its core, the album is massively heartfelt, most notably when Herbo finds his way back to his family, like on “Momma I’m Sorry.”

When it comes to millionaire-kingpin raps over lushly orchestrated, ultra-grandiose production, few can do it like Rick Ross. The MMG head honcho returns here with his sixth album, generally following the same script that made him one of hip-hop\'s biggest superstars. Overflowing with A-list features (Jay Z, Kanye, Lil Wayne, Jeezy, Scarface, French Montana, etc.) and overseen by platinum producers like Diddy, Jake One, Mike WiLL Made It, and J.U.S.T.I.C.E. League, there\'s no doubt that *Mastermind* will end up in the same place as his previous five albums: topping the charts. As a criminally minded storyteller, Ross continues to impress, while the beats display a stylistic diversity not generally found in today\'s pop-rap. \"Thug Cry\" tweaks Souls of Mischief\'s classic anthem \"93 Til Infinity,\" while \"Supreme\" finds Scott Storch pairing rat-a-tat-tat 808s with some absurdly funky horns and flutes. Other highlights include \"The Devil Is a Lie\" and \"Mafia Music III.\"

The Step Brothers in question are Alchemist and Evidence, two of hip-hop\'s most well-respected producer/rappers. They go all the way back to when the former produced the latter\'s act, Dilated Peoples, in the late \'90s. Having run in the same circles for a decade, *Lord Steppington* was inevitable, and its loose, casual feel is a testament to the two artists\' familiarity with one another. \"Byron G\" wobbles like it\'s drunk, with Odd Future\'s Domo Genesis \"rooting for the derelicts\" with his guest verse. The track is as ominous as \"Buzzing Away\" is whimsical, and much of the album splits the difference between the two. \"See the Rich Man Play\" is a highlight, featuring a heady soul sample and some of Evidence\'s best verses, as is \"Mums in the Garage,\" a getaway song that finds the inimitable Action Bronson mimicking the song\'s air of paranoia with his half-yelled flow.

Hailing from Chattanooga, Tenn., emcee Isaiah Rashad is the odd man out among the mostly West Coast Top Dawg label roster, which includes Kendrick Lamar, Schoolboy Q, Jay Rock and Ab-Soul. But other than his hometown, he fits right in: his prodigious understanding of hip-hop history is evident on tracks like “R.I.P. Kevin Miller” and “Brad Jordan”, the former a tribute to Master P’s murdered brother, the latter an ode to seminal Houston rapper Scarface. The album boasts a motley crew of producers, most of them newcomers as well; they have Black Hippy’s soul-funk aesthetic down pat, and Rashad’s rhymes explore the tension between hip-hop’s grown-man stoicism and the anxieties that accompany life’s many crossroads. Best of all, the guy can rap, with his dexterous flow flitting its way between somnolent jazz samples and skittering rhythms. From the melancholy soul-searching of “Tranquility” to the confident g-funk of the title track, *Cilvia Demo* is an ambitious, honest and unforgettable debut.

At first glance, the pairing of producer Madlib and rapper Freddie Gibbs seems unlikely. The former is the ultimate crate-digger, known as much for his reclusive tendencies as his endless collection of obscure soul, jazz, rock, and other musical ephemera; the latter is a street-hardened former dealer who rhymes about the perils of the dope game. But they say opposites attract, and in this case their two aesthetics complement one another. Gibbs is a nimble, gifted rapper, his syllables quick-stepping around Madlib\'s many twists and turns, from the grainy \'70s soul-funk of \"Scarface\" to the half-time disco of \"Harold\'s\" to the hazy West Coast G-funk of \"Thuggin.\" The duo\'s credentials are strong enough to pull some of hip-hop\'s finest into their orbit: oddball Danny Brown contributes a verse to the squirming \"High,\" while the crews from The Wu-Tang Clan, Top Dog Entertainment, and Odd Future are all represented (via cameos from Raekwon, Ab Soul, and Earl Sweatshirt, respectively). As a final shot of gravitas, Scarface drops a verse on \"Broken.\" It\'s a deserved blessing from one of hip-hop\'s finest MCs to one of its most unlikely but successful pairings.

In the years since Kid Cudi’s breakthrough 2009 debut, he’s become one of hip-hop’s most versatile and mercurial superstars. Just as you’re getting hypnotized by his late-night rhymes, Cudi switches it up—singing in a laidback drawl or assuming the role of guitar-playing frontman. He\'s tapped off-the-wall collaborators (like soft rock crooner Michael Bolton), reinterpreted Nirvana\'s cover of blues legend Lead Belly, and pushed his production aesthetic into progressively more experimental terrain. For Cudi\'s fourth solo album, *Satellite Flight: The Journey to Mother Moon*, the innovative emcee brings in throwback-soul heartbreaker Raphael Saadiq and rekindles the collaborative magic with WZRD bandmate and producer Dot da Genius.

Before the relatable *CTRL* and the deeply self-aware *SOS*, there was *Z*. SZA’s breakthrough EP, released in 2014, is where the R&B artist’s singular songwriting skills started to take form and become an entity of their own. *Z* followed a pair of self-released projects (2012’s *See.SZA.Run* and 2013’s *S*) that highlighted SZA’s penchant for floating her soft-focus vocals over lo-fi production. Upon signing with indie-turned-hip-hop-behemoth Top Dawg Entertainment, the singer, born Solána Imani Rowe, went to work on *Z*, which presents itself as an early checkpoint in the marathon of her complex life. A profound longing—for knowledge of self and love from another—has persisted throughout SZA’s discography, and it starts here. “Ur,” the opening song, sounds as if it’s starting in reverse before breaking into a stuttering, staticky atmosphere, complete with dark, lackadaisical horns that make way for SZA’s hushed purr. She immediately hits us with lyrics that beg to be interrogated: “Clarity is a state of mind/Freedom ain’t real—who sold you that lie?” SZA takes her time with self-expression, never rushing toward an answer but rather searching for her place along the journey. She moves throughout the EP at varied tempos: “Childs Play,” which samples XXYYXX’s experimental track “About You” and features an animated Chance the Rapper, continues the languid pace set by “Ur.” Elsewhere, songs like “Julia” and “HiiiJack” veer toward glimmering, upbeat territory, as SZA blends irreverence with thoughtfulness in her now-signature lyrical approach. “Sweet November” sees her singing over Marvin Gaye’s expansive “Mandota” instrumental, a tall task that she ambitiously tackles head-on. While the EP stands at 10 tracks, the project incorporates many more unexpected moments of sonic shifts that allow SZA to explore and experiment with her breathy voice and heady lyrics. (See “Warm Winds,” which sounds like a jolly giant trekking through a meadow made of dense synths, before a midway beat switch to light boom bap and neo-soul; and “Green Mile,” which starts out pensive and spacious before collapsing into a twinkling, starry end). *Z* brims with anxious thoughts and second and third guesses, but SZA manages to make it sound like she’s taking it all in stride.

Funky synth leads, ’80s drum machines, and a well-studied electro revivalism give Chromeo’s fourth full-length album a sophisticated, sparkling vintage sheen. Even though the sharp-witted wordplay that established the duo’s reputation on tunes like “Bonafied Lovin” and “Momma’s Boy” is here in spades, the crack execution of *White Women* is no joking matter. The dazzling “Sexy Socialite” drops a coy pick-up line (“I wish you were a socialist instead of worrying about your name on the list.”) over a white-hot groove. Elsewhere, contributions from Toro y Moi, Vampire Weekend\'s Ezra Koenig, and Solange round out the duo’s dance-oriented triumph.

Kevin Gates holds nothing back on *By Any Means*, a mixtape released just as the Louisiana rapper was becoming a national star. Backed by dense, thunderous trap beats and horror-movie piano lines, Gates tackles subject matter that most MCs would leave untouched. \"Posed To Be In Love\" paints a disturbing portrait of a man being left by his girlfriend, while \"Wish I Had It\" zooms out, the rapper juggling flows as he narrates a tour of an impoverished \"different city within the city.\"

The magnitude of Michael Jackson’s talent is evident in every track of his second collection of previously unreleased posthumous material. The roster of hit-making producers involved—including Timbaland, John McClain, Stargate, and Rodney Jerkins—add a dazzlingly modern sheen to Jackson’s original sessions. The album’s most fascinating offering comes with “A Place with No Name,” which is inspired by “A Horse with No Name” by ’70s rock act America.