Complex's Best Albums of 2017 (So Far)

In the two years since *To Pimp a Butterfly*, we’ve hung on Kendrick Lamar\'s every word—whether he’s destroying rivals on a cameo, performing the #blacklivesmatter anthem *on top of a police car* at the BET Awards, or hanging out with Obama. So when *DAMN.* opens with a seemingly innocuous line—\"So I was taking a walk the other day…”—we\'re all ears. The gunshot that abruptly ends the track is a signal: *DAMN.* is a grab-you-by-the-throat declaration that’s as blunt, complex, and unflinching as the name suggests. If *Butterfly* was jazz-inflected, soul-funk vibrance, *DAMN.* is visceral, spare, and straight to the point, whether he’s boasting about \"royalty inside my DNA” on the trunk-rattling \"DNA.\" or lamenting an anonymous, violent death on the soul-infused “FEAR.” No topic is too big to tackle, and the songs are as bold as their all-caps names: “PRIDE.” “LOYALTY.” “LOVE.” \"LUST.” “GOD.” When he repeats the opening line to close the album, that simple walk has become a profound journey—further proof that no one commands the conversation like Kendrick Lamar.

Released within two weeks of his 2017 self-titled project, *HNDRXX* is a master statement of soulful, sly R&B from the Atlanta rapper. If *FUTURE* echoed the spontaneity and double-time flow of his now-classic mixtapes, the follow-up is stacked with anthems that are calibrated for a massive mainstream audience. Two marquee cameos—The Weeknd and Rihanna—add extra star power, but highlights like “Damage,” “Incredible,” and “Fresh Air” are all about Future’s brilliant mix of brutal honestly and unchecked hedonism.

The album that finally reveals a superstar. Sampha Sisay spent his nascent career becoming music’s collaborator à la mode—his CV includes impeccable work with the likes of Solange, Drake, and Jessie Ware—and *Process* fully justifies his considered approach to unveiling a debut full-length. It’s a stunning album that sees the Londoner inject raw, gorgeous emotion into each of his mini-epics. His electronic R&B sounds dialed in from another dimension on transformative opener “Plastic 100°C,” and “Incomplete Kisses” is an anthem for the broken-hearted that retains a smoothness almost exclusive to this very special talent. “(No One Knows Me) Like the Piano,” meanwhile, makes a solid case for being 2017’s most beautiful song.

If *Black Market* represented a nostalgic Ricky Rozay, *Rather You Than Me* reverses course. A-list rappers are all over this, with Chris Rock even adding a touch of comic relief. Moments of vengeance are embellished by a clarity that comes from experience. Ross paints a vivid picture—the brown bags, ankle monitors, pulling the ragtop back at a red light. “Apple of My Eye” and “Game Ain’t Based on Sympathy” contemplate the trap life as smoke twirls in the air. *Rather You Than Me* is the Bawse’s Michael Corleone moment: “Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in.”

It feels right that Future’s first self-titled release allows his different personas to grab the mic: Depending on the track, he’s the party starter, the ladies\' man, the hustler, or the hedonist. *FUTURE* pays homage to the ATL rapper’s roots (and now-legendary string of underground mixtapes) with plenty of 808 boom, warped synths, and jittery rhymes. When his lyrics look back on the experiences that shaped him—especially with tracks like “Feds Did a Sweep” or “When I Was Broke”—it\'s a hypnotic glimpse into the mind of Atlanta’s trap king.

Syd, of The Internet and Odd Future fame, shows another side of her musical persona. *Fin* takes a carnal R&B turn with all the complex emotions it brings. Her demure voice gives strong vapors of Aaliyah and *Velvet Rope*-era Janet Jackson on “Drown In It,” “Body,” and “Know.” Syd gives herself a pep talk on “All About Me” and gets lit on “Dollar Bills” and “Nothin to Somethin.” And this being Syd, the tracks glisten with futuristic shine.

On his second album, the Brooklyn rapper’s heart still lies with hip-hop’s golden age. While trading verses with ScHoolboy Q and Styles P on “ROCKABYE BABY” and “SUPER PREDATOR,” his deft lyricism is as evocative of East Coast rap’s early-\'90s glory days as his buttery boom-bap. His thoughts, however, focus firmly on contemporary America, and he riffs on government, racism, and freedom with absorbing frankness. “DEVASTATED” is entirely forward-facing, saluting his personal triumph over hard times on top of sparkling trap beats.

“I feel weird,” repeats Stephen Bruner on “Captain Stupido”. That’s encouraging because the leftfield moments have always lent his jazz/funk/soft-rock fusions singular charm—even here when he meows through “A Fan’s Mail (Tron Song Suite II)”. By those standards, the melancholy “Walk On By”, with its pensive verse from Kendrick Lamar, and “Show You the Way”—co-starring soft-rock icons Michael McDonald and Kenny Loggins—feel irresistibly straightforward, but their velvet melodies are as beguiling as Bruner’s falsetto harmonies.

DC rapper GoldLink continues the forward momentum that turned heads on his 2015 mixtape *And After That, We Didn’t Talk*. *At What Cost* unspools like a film, transitioning seamlessly from late night to early morning. “Crew” pictures GoldLink stunting hard with Brent Faiyaz and Shy Glizzy. He can body a club track (“Meditation”) and shock listeners with a surprise ending. The fatalism that marked “When I Die” is back on “Pray Everyday (Survivor’s Guilt),” the realest song about self-medication since Kendrick Lamar’s “Swimming Pools.” *At What Cost* connects soul with noir, inward-facing narratives, chopped, off-kilter beats, and nocturnal moods.

On this adventurous mixtape, Charli XCX offers her own spin on contemporary pop trends, from Auto-Tuned hip-hop (“Dreamer feat. Starrah & RAYE”) to melodic dancehall (“3AM Pull Up feat. MØ”) to bubblegum bangers sauced with rap (“Lipgloss feat. CupcakKe”). Each sound gets the Charli treatment: pitched synths, distorted vocals, and a full dose of IDGAF attitude. In that way, she’s not just meditating on today’s pop landscape—she’s placing herself firmly at the center of it.

*2wice* marks Indiana rapper Freddie Gibbs’ first offering since being acquitted of sexual assault in 2016—a charge that could’ve landed him in jail for 10 years. The material here is accordingly reflective, tempering Gibbs’ street operas with musings on potential (“Crushed Glass”), parenting (“Homesick”), and growing up (“Alexys”). As always, Gibbs’ raps are low-key but expertly constructed, the work of a guy confident enough to know he doesn’t need to show off.

Dieuson Octave’s debut arrived while he was locked up for parole violation and its conflicting moods mirror his mixed fortunes. On haunting opener “Day for Day,” he surveys the streets that raised him, deciding, “I was already sentenced before I came up out the womb”. When “Patty Cake” rolls through on an earworm piano riff though, he’s triumphantly “sipping Belaire in Bel-Air”. Throughout, efficient production places his melodic flow center-stage and his striking descriptions of struggle and success cement him as one of rap’s most exciting new voices.

On the surface, John Mayer already has everything: guitar-god status, an honorary membership with the Grateful Dead, a trove of GRAMMY®s and Rolexes. But everything feels like nothing when you don\'t have someone to share it with, especially when you’re nearing 40 and humbled by heartbreak. This album is about his quest for forgiveness, companionship, family, and meaning—the *real* everything. In classic Mayer fashion, it’s deeply sentimental and a little existential. On “In the Blood,” he ponders his fate with his heart on his sleeve: “How much of my mother has my mother left in me? How much of my love will be insane to some degree? And what about this feeling that I’m never good enough? Will it wash out in the water or is it always in the blood?”

2014’s 'Too Bright' showcased Mike Hadreas stepping out saucily onto a bigger stage, expressing, with the production help of Portishead’s Adrian Utley, emotions arranged all along the slippery continuum from rage to irony to love. Here in 13 new ferocious and sophisticated tracks, Mike Hadreas and his collaborators blow through church music, makeout music, an array of the gothier radio popular formats, rhythm and blues, art pop, krautrock, queer soul, the RCA Studio B sound, and then also collect some of the sounds that only exist inside Freddy Krueger. Tremolo on the electric keys. Nightclubbing. Daywalking. Kate Bushing, Peter Greenawaying, Springsteening, Syreetaing. No Shape was produced by Blake Mills, the man behind Alabama Shakes’ Grammy Award winning album. He added precision and expansion. Some things are pretty and some are blasted beyond recognition. Records like this, records that make you feel like you’re 15 and just seeing the truth for the first time, are excessively rare. They’re here to remind you that you’re divine.

Kehlani Parrish reached the release of her debut album the hard way—dues paid in a teen pop band and on *America\'s Got Talent*, various personal struggles—but it’s helped sharpen her silky R&B with a bewitching edge. She can do radio-friendly summer jams (“Distraction” and “Undercover”), but really comes alive when the Sweet and Sexy gets outmuscled by the Savage. “Not Used to It” hits deep, while “Too Much” and “Do U Dirty” are gloriously lewd and completely brilliant.

Bedroom vibes all over this suite of relaxed underground R&B.

Some bands take a few years to regroup for their next move; dream-pop pioneers Slowdive took 22, a return all the more bittersweet given how many bands their sound has influenced since. Combining the atmospherics of ambient music with rock ’n’ roll’s low center of gravity, *Slowdive* sounds as vital as anything the band recorded in the early ‘90s, whether it’s the foggy, countryish inflections of “No Longer Making Time” or the propulsive “Star Roving.”

“It felt like we were in a movie that had a totally implausible ending...” Slowdive’s second act as a live blockbuster has already been rapturously received around the world. Highlights thus far include a festival-conquering, sea-of-devotees Primavera Sound performance, of which Pitchfork noted: “The beauty of their crystalline sound is almost hard to believe, every note in its perfect place.” “It was just nice to realise that there was a decent amount of interest in it,” says principal songwriter Neil Halstead. The UK shoegaze pioneers have now channelled such seemingly impossible belief into a fourth studio opus which belies his characteristic modesty. Self-titled with quiet confidence, Slowdive’s stargazing alchemy is set to further entrance the faithful while beguiling a legion of fresh ears. Deftly swerving what co-vocalist/guitarist Rachel Goswell terms “a trip down memory lane”, these eight new tracks are simultaneously expansive and the sonic pathfinders’ most direct material to date. Birthed at the band’s talismanic Oxfordshire haunt The Courtyard – “It felt like home,” enthuses guitarist Christian Savill – their diamantine melodies were mixed to a suitably hypnotic sheen at Los Angeles’ famed Sunset Sound facility by Chris Coady (perhaps best known for his work with Beach House, one of countless contemporary acts to have followed in Slowdive’s wake). “It’s poppier than I thought it was going to be,” notes Halstead, who was the primary architect of 1995‘s previous full-length transmission Pygmalion. This time out the group dynamic was all-important. “When you’re in a band and you do three records, there’s a continuous flow and a development. For us, that flow re-started with us playing live again and that has continued into the record.” Drummer and loop conductor Simon Scott enhanced the likes of ‘Slomo’ and ‘Falling Ashes’ with abstract textures conjured via his laptop’s signal processing software. A fecund period of experimentation with “40-minute iPhone jams” allowed the unit to then amplify the core of their chemistry. “Neil is such a gifted songwriter, so the songs won. He has these sparks of melodies, like ‘Sugar For The Pill’ and ‘Star Roving’, which are really special. But the new record still has a toe in that Pygmalion sound. In the future, things could get very interesting indeed.” This open-channel approach to creativity is reflected by Slowdive’s impressively wide field of influence, from indie-rock avatars to ambient voyagers – see the tribute album of cover versions released by Berlin electronic label Morr Music. As befits such evocative visionaries, you can also hear Slowdive through the silver screen: New Queer Cinema trailblazer Gregg Araki has featured them on the soundtracks to no less than four of his films. “When I moved to America in 2008 I was working in an organic grocery store,” recalls Christian. “Kids started coming in and asking if it was true I had played in Slowdive. That’s when I started thinking, ‘OK, this is weird!’” Neil Halstead: “We were always ambitious. Not in terms of trying to sell records, but in terms of making interesting records. Maybe, if you try and make interesting records, they’re still interesting in a few years time. I don’t know where we’d have gone if we had carried straight on. Now we’ve picked up a different momentum. It’s intriguing to see where it goes next.” The world has finally caught up with Slowdive. This movie could run and run...

Gucci built his reputation on Paul Bunyan-like excesses and exploits. When he emerged from prison in 2016, however, he was fit and sober, and here he collaborates with superproducer Metro Boomin’ to capitalize on his clarity. Metro’s beats are like 8-bit nightmares—smeary and demented. Gucci mixes menace with whimsy and humor—“I’m too rich to give a sh\*t ‘bout anyone but me,” he deadpans on “5 Million Intro”; on “Finesse the Plug,” he manages to rhyme “spiteful,” “rifle,” “white folks,” and “tight rope.”

Little Dragon love to surprise. Their 2014 LP *Nabuma Rubberband* featured ominous New Wave synthesizers, nods to Japanese game shows, and the Gothenburg Symphony Orchestra. That you never know what to expect from the four-piece is part of their appeal, but it can also create distance; it’s hard to get invested in a band that’s still finding itself. But on their fifth album, the Swedish outfit seems to have settled into their sound, a breathy mix of ‘80s dance-pop and downtempo ’90s R&B stirred together with artsy flair. It’s fluid, flirty, and awesomely escapist, like a blissed-out stroll through strobe-lit clubs. For polished pop, check out “Celebrate (Feat. Agge).” And for proof they haven’t lost their edge, listen to the spacey, seven-minute “Gravity.”

Madame Gold Records 2017 artwork by Tiger Tiger Studios

*I Decided.* is a departure from Big Sean\'s IDGAF past. “Voices in My Head/Stick to the Plan” and “Bigger Than Me” show him confronting reality, openly baring scars and lessons learned. “No Favors” features one of Eminem’s most lethal guest spots. Sean Don turns stockpiled venom into an antidote, and with his overpowering verbal jiu-jitsu skills, the redemptive message comes across loud and clear: “I feel like I sent the prayers up and God blessed back/Whoa.”

No MC represents the fluidity and versatility of UK rap better than Momodou Jallow. While the vivacious “Did You See” cements his position as a captain of London’s Afrobeats scene, he constantly escapes pigeonholing on this magnetic debut. The title track offers sax-topped G-funk, “Leave Me” sets brooding guitar riffs to trap beats, and “Plottin” recalls UK garage’s melodic glory days. Over those sounds, J Hus switches from staccato belligerence and joyful bravado to downbeat reflection without missing a beat—or the chance for a sharp punchline.

The Japanese kanji character for “light” adorns the cover of Lupe’s album—an accurate description of the contents within. The Chicago MC sheds megawatts of insight, bobbing and weaving over musical beds ranging from trap to vintage dirty south to electro-funk. “More Than My Heart” is a love letter to mothers. “NGL” is a cautionary tale. On “Made in the USA,” Lupe drops a rap history lesson. *DROGAS Light* is a convincing master class about staying true.

Dirty Projectors announce their long-awaited 7th LP. The new album does everything we want and expect from Dirty Projectors — but in a way we never could have imagined or anticipated. In a career of surprising conceptual gambits, unexpected stylistic evolutions, and continually changing lineups — this is, as DJ Khaled says, “ANOTHER ONE”! Dirty Projectors will be out February 24th, 2017 on Domino.

Nick Hakim will release his debut full-length album Green Twins via ATO Records on May 19, and the release will be preceded by a North American & European tour. The anticipated album follows his breakthrough Where Will We Go, Pt. I & II EPs that were self-released on his Earseed Records and praised by the New York Times, NPR Music and more. Green Twins is an experimental step forward with emotional heft gleaned from his experiences in the years since. Intimate first single, “Bet She Looks Like You,” was recorded mostly in the New York-based singer-songwriter’s home bedroom, and was one of the first songs that saw Hakim embrace his new experimental way of songwriting and recording. Each track on the album peels back a particular aspect of his life. He notes that, “a lot of it is what I was thinking in the moment, very specific songs... many of them are like self-portraits.“ He says of Green Twins, “I also felt the need to push my creativity in a different way than I had on the EPs.” The record draws from influences spanning Robert Wyatt, Marvin Gaye and Shuggie Otis to My Bloody Valentine. “We wanted to imagine what it would have sounded like if RZA had produced a Portishead album. We experimented with engineering techniques from Phil Spector and Al Green’s Back Up Train, drum programming from RZA and Outkast, and were listening to a lot of The Impressions, John Lennon, Wu-Tang, Madlib, and Screaming Jay Hawkins.” The story of Green Twins truly began when, armed with the masters for his EPs, Hakim moved from Boston to Brooklyn, spending his time fleshing out unfinished ideas in his bedroom. He came up with lyrics on the spot, recording sketches and lyrics on voice memos and a four-track cassette recorder. From there, Green Twins came about as a sum of its parts: Hakim took the demo recordings to studios in New York City, Philadelphia and London, and built on them with engineers including Andrew Sarlo (bass, engineering, production), keeping the original essence of the songs intact. Sarlo notes that, “for other artists, a demo serves as a potential shape the song could form into. But for Nick, demos are more like creating a temple: a sanctuary that now we have to go into and somehow clean, furnish, and get ready for other people to experience the sermon in.” Hakim’s debut comes as the culmination of years chiseling his skills as a musician. Hailing from Washington, D.C., he grew up in a musical household—his older brother introduced him to bands like Bad Brains and Nirvana, and his parents exposed him to Nueva canción—while he set out on his own to discover the DC music scene. He didn’t take an interest in learning an instrument until high school, when he taught himself to play the keys. After graduation, he moved to Boston to continue his study of music. In the time since moving to Brooklyn and setting to work for three years on Green Twins, he embraced the live circuit, both as a solo musician and with his band, whom he’s brought together from within his community in Boston and New York. With Green Twins, Hakim plans to tour through the beginning of the year (see tour dates below), and hopes that folks will connect with the songs he’s written. “I think everybody feels insecure about certain things and everybody has lost people dear to them. I think I'm writing about common things that people feel,” he says. “I think I'm very grateful for anybody that's listening or wants to be a part of my little world that I've created through song.”

After investigating UK club culture on 2014’s *The London Sessions*, Mary J. Blige returns to hip-hop soul to process her broken marriage. Survivor’s spirit, regal horns, and a bravura verse from Kanye West combine on invigorating opener “Love Yourself,” while her F-you vocal outshines a supporting cast of Missy Elliott, DJ Khaled, and Migos’ Quavo on “Glow Up.” Turning pain into compelling music has long been Blige’s trademark, but her choice of inventive producers—particularly KAYTRANADA on “Telling the Truth”’s glitchy soul—keeps pushing her sound forward.

Josh Tillman’s third album as Father John Misty is a wry and passionate complaint against nearly everything under the sun: Politics, religion, entertainment, war—even Father John Misty can’t escape Father John Misty’s gimlet eye. But even the wordiest, most cynically self-aware songs here (“Leaving L.A.,” “When the God of Love Returns There’ll Be Hell to Pay”) are executed with angelic beauty, a contrast that puts Tillman in a league with spiritual predecessors like Randy Newman or Harry Nilsson. A performer as savvy as Tillman knows you can’t sell the apocalypse without making it sound pretty.

'Pure Comedy', Father John Misty’s third album, is a complex, often-sardonic, and, equally often, touching meditation on the confounding folly of modern humanity. Father John Misty is the brainchild of singer-songwriter Josh Tillman. Tillman has released two widely acclaimed albums – 'Fear Fun' (2012) and 'I Love You, Honeybear' (2015) – and the recent “Real Love Baby” single as Father John Misty, and recently contributed to songs by Beyoncé, Lady Gaga, and Kid Cudi. While we could say a lot about 'Pure Comedy' – including that it is a bold, important album in the tradition of American songwriting greats like Harry Nilsson, Randy Newman, and Leonard Cohen – we think it’s best to let its creator describe it himself. Take it away, Mr. Tillman: 'Pure Comedy' is the story of a species born with a half-formed brain. The species’ only hope for survival, finding itself on a cruel, unpredictable rock surrounded by other species who seem far more adept at this whole thing (and to whom they are delicious), is the reliance on other, slightly older, half-formed brains. This reliance takes on a few different names as their story unfolds, like “love,” “culture,” “family,” etc. Over time, and as their brains prove to be remarkably good at inventing meaning where there is none, the species becomes the purveyor of increasingly bizarre and sophisticated ironies. These ironies are designed to help cope with the species’ loathsome vulnerability and to try and reconcile how disproportionate their imagination is to the monotony of their existence. Something like that. 'Pure Comedy' was recorded in 2016 at the legendary United Studios (Frank Sinatra, Ray Charles, Beck) in Hollywood, CA. It was produced by Father John Misty and Jonathan Wilson, with engineering by Misty’s longtime sound-person Trevor Spencer and orchestral arrangements by renowned composer/double-bassist Gavin Bryars (known for extensive solo work, and work with Brian Eno, Tom Waits, Derek Bailey).

He’s received plenty of useful co-signs—a spot on Janelle Monae’s fledgling label, a guest appearance in *Luke Cage*—but Jidenna Mobisson doesn’t miss his shot on his first album. As strikingly confident as it is unpredictable (check the night and day trap twin-pack that is “Helicopters / Beware”), *The Chief* mines everything from dancehall (“Some Kind of Way”) to Jidenna’s Nigerian ancestry (staff-raising battle-cry “Long Live The Chief”) to carve its unique speaker-toppling space.

Khalid\'s soft-lit ’80s synths and heartfelt, raspy vocals will catch your attention from the start, but it’s his effortless warmth and sincerity that will keep you coming back. An alumnus of the Apple Music Up Next program and a 2018 GRAMMY® Award contender, the Texas songwriter is one of the year’s most impressive newcomers. *American Teen*, his sensational debut album, is all about summer sunshine, young love, and the adventures of tight-knit friends—subjects perfectly matched with the elegant blend of throwback R&B, ‘80s pop, and glitchy future-soul.

Philadelphia singer PnB Rock introduces his warbling, Auto-Tune-heavy style to the world on his debut album, *GTTM: Goin Thru the Motions*. He mixes synthetic vocal lines with sharp pop instincts on the snappy “There She Go,” while the rasping drum machines and flaring keys of infectious love song “Selfish” blur the line between twisted and beautiful. There are grimmer ripples to be found in his alt-R&B, too, as heard in the dark, chugging synths of the Wiz Khalifa-featuring “Attention.”

Uncertain times and an unruly squad of new collaborators set the table for the most dazzling Gorillaz album yet. It’s a white-knuckle joyride that sees Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett’s virtual band dart down fresh electronic avenues—tracks are darker, lyrics explicitly politicized and the collaborators more inspired. Arming “Let Me Out” with Mavis Staples and Pusha T provides an electrifying highlight, Savages’ Jehnny Beth lends a fluorescent rallying cry to “We Got the Power”, while Benjamin Clementine is a legitimately haunting presence on the hymnal “Hallelujah Money”.

Playboi Carti arrived at a time when mumble rap was boosting hip-hop’s bottom line, making it a ubiquitous but captivating innovation in music. On later releases like 2018’s *Die Lit*, Carti would tip a hat to his humble beginnings, priding himself on his ability to build wealth and buy his mom a house “off that mumbling s\*\*t.” This self-titled 2017 mixtape was the beginning of Carti laying that very foundation. Born Jordan Terrell Carter in Atlanta in 1996, the rapper and singer takes a wide-eyed, unconstrained approach to creating—not unlike the stylistic technique he employed with his breakthrough 2015 single, “Broke Boi.” After Carti sprinkled a smattering of official and unofficial songs across the internet in the mid-2010s, his star power grew exponentially, thanks to fans who couldn’t get enough of his creative appeal. *Playboi Carti* is propelled by Carti’s sheer charisma and trend-setting persona. The artist, known globally for his unique fashion sense and an affinity for all things divergent, uses this radical mixtape as a launchpad for his brand of unconventional self-expression. The project is buoyed by repetitive chants and earworm phrases that stretch themselves into trance-inducing anthems and mantras, custom made for a new generation of ragers and moshers. “Magnolia,” the smash single produced by frequent collaborator Pi’erre Bourne, was Carti’s moment of arrival in the mainstream, thanks in large part to his breezy rapping style. Playboi Carti’s songs, lyrics, and ad libs have embedded themselves into the broader pop culture landscape, but don’t get confused: On “Half & Half,” he lets it be known that “This is not pop, this some rock.” Equally inspired by the unapologetic air of hip-hop and the irreverent attitude of rock ’n’ roll, he dedicates *Playboi Carti* to the merging of the two influential genres. The punk-inflected hit “Wokeuplikethis\*” featuring Lil Uzi Vert shows the MCs directly addressing copycats and simultaneously flexing in their imitators’ faces. Lyrical minimalism is the ace up Playboi Carti’s sleeve, and he strategically plays his cards to bring us into his complex sonic universe.

If it’s true that Young Dolph survived a 100-shot ambush on his vehicle, then these street tales certainly would back up the claim that he’s bulletproof. Throughout the album, the Memphis rapper unfolds mo’-money, mo’-problems stories in excruciating detail, gradually building the energy on “100 Shots” and “I’m Everything You Wanna Be\" from cool composure to a man possessed. But just as noteworthy here is the minimalist production: the thumping, low-slung bass; spare, haunting synths; and cracking hi-hats and snares leave all sorts of room for Dolph to crush his bars with brooding intensity.

\"When you are being true to yourself, you are completely honest with what you feel, deeply value, and desire. It also means communicating your feelings wholeheartedly both with yourself and others, allowing your truth to flow through you and into the world. Enjoy.\"