Complex's Best Albums of 2016 (So Far)

There’s one moment critical to understanding the emotional and cultural heft of *Lemonade*—Beyoncé’s genre-obliterating blockbuster sixth album—and it arrives at the end of “Freedom,” a storming empowerment anthem that samples a civil-rights-era prison song and features Kendrick Lamar. An elderly woman’s voice cuts in: \"I had my ups and downs, but I always find the inner strength to pull myself up,” she says. “I was served lemons, but I made lemonade.” The speech—made by her husband JAY-Z’s grandmother Hattie White on her 90th birthday in 2015—reportedly inspired the concept behind this radical project, which arrived with an accompanying film as well as words by Somali-British poet Warsan Shire. Both the album and its visual companion are deeply tied to Beyoncé’s identity and narrative (her womanhood, her blackness, her husband’s infidelity) and make for Beyoncé\'s most outwardly revealing work to date. The details, of course, are what make it so relatable, what make each song sting. Billed upon its release as a tribute to “every woman’s journey of self-knowledge and healing,” the project is furious, defiant, anguished, vulnerable, experimental, muscular, triumphant, humorous, and brave—a vivid personal statement from the most powerful woman in music, released without warning in a time of public scrutiny and private suffering. It is also astonishingly tough. Through tears, even Beyoncé has to summon her inner Beyoncé, roaring, “I’ma keep running ’cause a winner don’t quit on themselves.” This panoramic strength–lyrical, vocal, instrumental, and personal–nudged her public image from mere legend to something closer to real-life superhero. Every second of *Lemonade* deserves to be studied and celebrated (the self-punishment in “Sorry,” the politics in “Formation,” the creative enhancements from collaborators like James Blake, Robert Plant, and Karen O), but the song that aims the highest musically may be “Don’t Hurt Yourself”—a Zeppelin-sampling psych-rock duet with Jack White. “This is your final warning,” she says in a moment of unnerving calm. “If you try this shit again/You gon\' lose your wife.” In support, White offers a word to the wise: “Love God herself.”

On this, his first masterpiece, Chance evolves—from Rapper to pop visionary. Influenced by gospel music, *Coloring Book* finds the Chicago native moved by the Holy Spirit and the current state of his hometown. “I speak to God in public,” he says on “Blessings,” its radiant closer. “He think the new sh\*t jam / I think we mutual fans.”

After giving the world a decade of nonstop hits, the big question for Rihanna was “What’s next?” Well, she was going to wait a little longer than expected to reveal the answer. Four years separated *Unapologetic* and her eighth album. But she didn’t completely escape from the spotlight during the mini hiatus. Rather, she experimented in real time by dropping one-off singles like the acoustic folk “FourFiveSeconds” collaboration with Kanye West and Paul McCartney, the patriotic ballad “American Oxygen,” and the feisty “Bitch Better Have My Money.” The sonic direction she was going to land on for *ANTI* was still murky, but those songs were subtle hints nonetheless. When she officially unleashed *ANTI* to the world, it quickly became clear that this wasn’t the Rihanna we’d come to know from years past. In an unexpected twist, the singer tossed her own hit factory formula (which she polished to perfection since her 2005 debut) out the window. No, this was a freshly independent Rihanna who intentionally took time to dig deep. As the world was holding its breath awaiting the new album, she found a previously untapped part of her artistry. *ANTI* says it all in the title: The album is the complete antithesis of Pop Star Rihanna. From the abstract cover art (which features a poem written in braille) to newfound autonomy after leaving her longtime record label, Def Jam, to form her own, *ANTI* shattered all expectations of what a structured pop album should sound like—not only for her own standards, but also for fellow artists who wanted to demolish industry rules. And the risk worked in her favor: it became the singer’s second No. 1 LP. “I got to do things my own way, darling/Will you ever let me?/Will you ever respect me?” Rihanna mockingly asks on the opening track, “Consideration.” In response, the rest of the album dives headfirst into fearlessness where she doesn’t hesitate to get sensual, vulnerable, and just a little weird. *ANTI*’s overarching theme is centered on relationships. Echoing Janet Jackson’s *The Velvet Rope*, Rihanna details the intricacies of love from all stages. Lead single “Work” is yet another flirtatious reunion with frequent collaborator Drake as they tease each other atop a steamy dancehall bassline. She spits vitriolic acid on the Travis Scott-produced “Woo,” taunting an ex-flame who walked away from her: “I bet she could never make you cry/’Cause the scars on your heart are still mine.” What’s most notable throughout *ANTI* is Rihanna’s vocal expansion, from her whiskey-coated wails on the late-night voicemail that is “Higher” to breathing smoke on her rerecorded version of Tame Impala’s “New Person, Same Old Mistakes.” Yet the signature Rihanna DNA remained on the album. The singer proudly celebrated her Caribbean heritage on the aforementioned “Work,” presented women with yet another kiss-off anthem with “Needed Me,” and flaunted her erotic side on deluxe track “Sex With Me.” Ever the sonic explorer, she also continued to uncover new genres by going full ’50s doo-wop on “Love on the Brain” and channeling Prince for the velvety ’80s power-pop ballad “Kiss It Better.” *ANTI* is not only Rihanna’s brilliant magnum opus, but it’s also a sincere declaration of freedom as she embraces her fully realized womanhood.

Every element of Kendrick Lamar’s *untitled unmastered.* tells you something about the Compton MC’s provocative, multi-layered genius. Take the contrast of the collection\'s ultra-generic title and its attention-grabbing, out-of-left-field release. Take the retro-futuristic, Funkadelic-inspired grooves that simmer under tracks like “untitled 02” and “untitled 06.” These are only the beginning of the album\'s hypnotic, nuanced nod to hip-hop’s deep roots and unstoppable political and expressive currency. Songs like “untitled 03” and “untitled 05”—with layered references, wild-eyed jazz solos, and cutting insight—continue Lamar\'s winning streak.

The final installment in the mixtape series that helped launch his career, Young Thug\'s *Slime Season 3* marks the end of an era. Still raucous and raw, these eight tracks capture the slippery, percussive delivery for which the Atlantan is known, complete with barks, wails, woos, and dribbled verses as on the delirious, equally maniacal “Drippin’ and “Digits.\" London on da Track is riding shotgun, lacing each turn with the signature whirrs and slaps that have made him one of the most talked-about producers in 2016.

The Baton Rouge rapper Kevin Gates has never been much for jokes. Earnest, unsparing, and intensely personal, his full-length major-label is a downcast trip through tales of the grind (“La Familia”) romantic woes (“Pride”), and the trials of balancing the two (“2 Phones”). He delivers it all with enough charm and hope to keep things from getting too dark or gritty. “Man in the mirror you way outta order,” he raps on “The Truth”—fitting words for an artist who named his album (and his daughter, for that matter) after an Arabic word meaning \"to improve.\"

On the cover of his fourth studio album *Views*, Drake looks down from atop Toronto’s CN Tower, paying homage to the city’s notoriously frigid winter temperatures in a heavyweight shearling coat and high-cut boots. He looks less like the superhero he’d made himself into over the course of a roughly six-year rise as singer-songwriter extraordinaire and more like a troubled monarch. *Views*, which followed two wildly successful projects in 2015 that he’d branded as mixtapes—*If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late* and the Future collab *What a Time to Be Alive*—would confirm him as both, his penchant for immaculate songwriting still fully intact and the pressures of existing as the most popular voice in rap, as well as his hometown’s most successful export, weighing heavy on his mind. “I made a decision last night that I would die for it,” Drake raps on “9.” “Just to show the city what it takes to be alive for it.” Drake’s presence eclipsed Toronto just about as soon as *So Far Gone* dropped, but the city—and what it thinks of him—was never far from his mind. There are references here to specific people (“Redemption”), places (“Weston Road Flows”), and experiences (“Views”), along with nods to the influence of the city’s Caribbean population on “With You,” “Controlla,” and “Too Good” (which just happens to feature Rihanna). He isn’t too much for the world, though, ruminating on his position as one of music’s biggest names—and those who’d rather he wasn’t—on songs like “Still Here,” “Hype,” and “Grammys.” Maybe the the most affecting acknowledgment to this end is the fact that “Hotline Bling,” a strong contender for 2015 song of the summer, was such an afterthought by the time *Views* was released that it appears here as a bonus track. For all intents and purposes, the Drake of *Views* is the same one we got on *If You’re Reading This* and *What a Time*, but if his previous proper album (*Nothing Was the Same*) foretold anything, it’s that the man peering down from CN Tower sees things differently than the rest of us.

Rapper/singer Anderson .Paak’s third album—and first since his star turn on Dr. Dre’s *Compton*—is a warm, wide-angle look at the sweep of his life. A former church drummer trained in gospel music, Paak is as expressive a singer as he is a rapper, sliding effortlessly between the reportorial grit of hip-hop (“Come Down”) and the emotional catharsis of soul and R&B (“The Season/Carry Me”), live-instrument grooves and studio production—a blend that puts him in league with other roots-conscious artists like Chance the Rapper and Kendrick Lamar.

KAYTRANADA\'s debut LP is a guest-packed club night of vintage house, hip-hop, and soul. The Montreal producer brings a rich old-school feel to all of these tracks, but it’s his vocalists that put them over the edge. AlunaGeorge drops a sizzling topline over a swervy beat on “TOGETHER,” Syd brings bedroom vibes to the bassline-driven house tune “YOU’RE THE ONE,” and Anderson .Paak is mysterious and laidback on the hazy soundscape “GLOWED UP.” And when Karriem Riggins and River Tiber assist on the boom-bap atmospheres of “BUS RIDE,\" they simply cement the deal.

Commanding and versatile, Christopher Gallant’s voice demands to be center-stage. It often had to push through an alt-R&B haze on 2014’s *Zebra* EP but is now set to cleaner, brighter R&B that’s literate in rock (“Talking to Myself”), slick pop (“Bourbon”) and ambient dubstep (“Open Up”). The genre-splicing always builds to a sky-scraping chorus but Gallant remains each song’s most infectious element. Unflinching in his honesty, he lays out his insecurities with a voice that shifts flawlessly from a careworn croon and aching falsetto to gale-force yearning.

Baauer made his name with slyly heavyweight trap songs, and while his debut album has plenty of low end, it also looks beyond the party. It\'s front-loaded with tunes suffused with echo and edginess; that goes equally for the slinky UK garage cut \"Body,\" the 150-BPM banger \"GoGo!\" and the slow-motion \"Pinku,\" which sounds like a hazy Daft Punk. \"Day Ones\" is a double-barreled blast of grime, the globe-trotting \"Temple\" pairs koto with 808, and \"Make It Bang\" explores Baltimore club. Thirteen tunes, 13 different pins in his world bass map.

Radiohead’s ninth album is a haunting collection of shapeshifting rock, dystopian lullabies, and vast spectral beauty. Though you’ll hear echoes of their previous work—the remote churn of “Daydreaming,” the feverish ascent and spidery guitar of “Ful Stop,” Jonny Greenwood’s terrifying string flourishes—*A Moon Shaped Pool* is both familiar and wonderfully elusive, much like its unforgettable closer. A live favorite since the mid-‘90s, “True Love Waits” has been re-imagined in the studio as a weightless, piano-driven meditation that grows more exquisite as it gently floats away.

While 2 Chainz has become one of the most reliably entertaining personalities in the pop-rap orbit, Lil’ Wayne remains a trickster extraordinaire and rap myth made flesh. A portmanteau of the neighborhoods where they grew up (Chainz in College Park, just outside Atlanta; Wayne in Hollygrove, New Orleans), *Collegrove* is an inspired pairing, from the quiet menace of “Gotta Lotta” (produced by Cash Money legend Mannie Fresh) to the mentholated reggae of “MFN” (produced by Atlantans Mike Will Made-It and Zaytoven) and the sprawling “Rolls Royce Weather Every Day,” where Wayne issues a rare apology: “I do me and love it, Lord I done overdid it.”

When Lil Uzi Vert dropped *Lil Uzi Vert Vs. The World* in 2016, he was already one of rap’s most promising young talents. After he amassed a cult following of early adopters from a combination of early SoundCloud releases and his breakout 2015 tape *Luv Is Rage*, all eyes were on him when he dropped the follow-up six months later. At just nine tracks long, *Lil Uzi Vert Vs. The World* widened the breadth of his artistic whims to the point that it would catapult him leagues ahead of the SoundCloud-famous MCs he was initially grouped with. Here, he can be found singing over warped EDM sirens on “Hi Roller,” thumbing his nose at ex-girlfriends on “You Was Right,” and, maybe most strikingly, rapping over an accordion sample on “Ps and Qs.” It was around the time of *Lil Uzi Vert Vs. The World* that Uzi became the poster boy for that dismissive designation “mumble rap,” but you can hear just about everything he says on *Lil Uzi Vert vs The World*, the same way you can on all of the increasingly popular Uzi releases that follow it.

*Dangerous Woman* is an outing that showcases Ariana Grande’s increasingly ferocious voice and a newfound edge—in fact, it’s a swaggering step forward. She joins forces with Nicki Minaj for the devilish reggae of “Side to Side,” seduces Lil Wayne on the breathy “Let Me Love You,” and, expertly harnessing those extraordinary vocals, turns slinky Max Martin cut “Into You” into one of 2016’s most glorious pop moments.

Following the dizzying success of their breakout 2013 debut, The 1975 aim even higher. The poignantly titled *I like it when you sleep, for you are so beautiful yet so unaware of it* is a captivating display of all the UK rock chameleons do so well, blending neon ‘80s art-funk confections (“Love Me,” “She’s American”) and heady 21st-century electro-textures (“Somebody Else,” “If I Believe You,” the gorgeous title cut). Held together by frontman Matt Healy’s bold-yet-earnest vocal performances, the result is as anthemic as it is intimate.

Domo Genesis has always been one of the most laidback, above-board members of the Odd Future crew—less sinister than Tyler, The Creator and not half as inscrutable as Earl Sweatshirt. *Genesis*, his first official studio album, leans less on his crew’s misanthropic weirdness in favor of stoned-soul confessions and dusty, \'90s-style beats. It’s a murky and marvelous outing that features guest spots from Mac Miller (“Coming Back”), Wiz Khalifa, Juicy J (“Go (Gas)”), and Anderson .Paak on “Dapper,” a jazzy, surprisingly convincing night-out anthem from a guy who always seemed perfectly content on the couch.

This Los Angeles-based trio combine warm synth textures, rich vocal harmonies, and an anything-can-happen attitude on their heady, self-produced debut. Quiet Storm sultriness and the pillowy softness of dream pop intermingle on tracks like the otherworldly “Love Song” and the swaying “Right One”; romantic victory lap “The Greatest” calls back to R&B’s past while keeping an eye trained on its possibilities. Colossal yet feather-light, KING’s meticulously crafted music breathes new life into soul.

Detroit’s Royce da 5\'9\" is something of a rapper’s rapper: hard-working, well connected, indifferent to trends but passionately dedicated to the craft. And he brings it all together on *Layers* with textbook boom bap, as confident and cinematic as it is cool. “Highest exalted/Call me commercial?/I’m highly insulted,” he drawls on “Shine,” delivering a workingman’s credo that surfaces again on the album’s title track, alongside Pusha T and Rick Ross: “I philosophize with wise words from learned lessons/In my world, mistakes turns to blessings.” Not that he’s too humble to flex when he’s ready—just listen to “Hard.”

“It’s the post-backpack, post-swag rap, the end of trap, and it’s not wack.” By not fitting in, as Philly rapper Tunji Ige declares on “Fired Up,” he creates his own lane and mashes the pedal. A fluency in boom-bap and love of trippy late-night vibes makes *Missed Calls* percolate with underground anthems that connects with fans of both A Tribe Called Quest and Future. Tracks like “22” and “All Night” stomp with the force of a thousand desert boots. He details the paper chase to a trap beat on “On My Grind.” “War” connects thick synth waves and lonesome snares for a heady concoction. Filled with clever sound and fresh perspective, *Missed Calls* ensures that Ige’s voicemail will be full from this point forward.

Entrancing electronica executed with utter confidence—and big pop hooks. Harley Streten’s dense production and can’t-teach radio-friendly choruses installed him as dance music’s fashionably brainy coming man, and this second album broadens his appeal and horizons. “Never Be Like You” is your starting point—a slinky, proper hit roughed up by Streten’s jabbing beats—but thanks to his cartel of collaborators, we’re spoiled. Kučka’s contributions provide some of the more halting moments, Raekwon is a devastatingly ominous presence (“You Know”), while Beck lends *Skin* its poised emotional climax on closer “Tiny Cities.”