HipHopDX's Top 25 Albums of 2014

With Common\'s hometown of Chicago reeling from rampant gun violence, his 10th studio album, *Nobody\'s Smiling*, is a meditation on that crisis. Produced by longtime collaborator No I.D., the album features big names like Big Sean and Jhene Aiko alongside Chicago fixtures such as Lil Herb and Dreezy. It takes its cues from both \'90s boom-bap and the darker sound of Kanye West\'s *Yeezus*. Common weaves his own experiences and memories growing up in the Windy City into those of the tracks\' narrators, creating an impressionistic tableau: \"These streets is my religion,\" he raps on the standout \"Kingdom,\" which has a gospel choir that evokes that of \"Jesus Walks.\" The abrasive beats of \"Blak Majik\" and \"Hustle Harder\" are some of Common\'s hardest-hitting in years; they jibe perfectly with the heated, mournful tone of his lyrics.

After more than 25 years of making records, DJ Quik remains relevant because he adheres to a timeless template of West Coast hip-hop and because he always finds new ways to put a twist on that classic sound. In comparison to *The Midnight Life*, many contemporary rap albums sound belabored and hackneyed. With “Back That S\*\*t Up,” “Broken Down,” and “Life Jacket,” Quik exhibits an unparalleled attention to sonic detail while retaining a rap style that\'s casual and uplifting but never dumbed-down. The album is full of little surprises, but nothing is more pleasurable than the smoother-than-smooth “Pet Semetary.”

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.

As something of a sequel to 2013\'s *Twelve Reasons to Die*, *36 Seasons* finds Wu-Tang rapper Ghostface Killah reprising his role as Tony Starks, returning to Staten Island after four years to find his hometown ravaged by drugs and violence. Collaborating with Brooklyn funk specialists The Revelations, Ghostface spins his tale of urban warfare to the sounds of dusty \'70s soul, with guests like Kandace Springs and Kool G Rap playing Starks\' girlfriend and a drug dealer, respectively. From its clever beats to its cinematic scope to Ghostface\'s vivid rhymes, *36 Seasons* plays like a lost Quentin Tarantino flick, full of B-movie thrills and a bloody outcome.

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.

Having stoked expectations via a string of underground mixtapes, rapper Logic is *Under Pressure* to deliver on his debut album—and that\'s exactly what he does. Relating his tale of a hardscrabble upbringing in Baltimore over soulful yet bleak beats (mostly by longtime producer 6ix), he spits rapid-fire rhymes from the POV of his drug-slinging brother on \"Gang Related\" and paints a picture of Section 8 housing on \"Growing Pains\": \"automatics and gang signs/5-0 with their K9s.\" Eschewing celebrity guests or name producers, Logic relies on his considerable skills to carry the day. \"Just my rhymes, my story/It\'s all mine, from the basement to the stadium.\"

When gangsta rap first bloomed under Schoolly D, Ice-T, N.W.A., and others, it often painted street life in a heroic, triumphant light. The protagonists were larger than life, mythical, and had the women, luxury trappings, and over-the-top stories to prove it; they were victors with spoils. Mobb Deep’s 1995 classic, *The Infamous*, shattered those fantasies. Throughout the album, released when Prodigy and Havoc were just 20 years old, the pair don’t come off like cinematic heroes; they seem like traumatized teens just trying to survive in Queensbridge—America’s largest housing project, right over the bridge from Manhattan’s old-money Upper East Side. The biggest single from Mobb’s first album, 1993’s largely forgotten *Juvenile Hell*, was the lighthearted sex jam “Hit It From the Back.” In contrast, on the chillingly paranoid *Infamous* standout “Trife Life,” Prodigy’s potential hookup with an old fling in Brooklyn means bringing “gats for precaution” and five friends for “manpower” in case it’s a setup. (He never even meets the girl; he and his crew end up fleeing because they saw a tinted-window car and couldn’t tell if it was “the enemy.”) A year earlier, Mobb’s Queensbridge compatriot Nas dropped the instant classic *Illmatic*, which found poetry and cinematic grace in the neighborhood’s troubles; *The Infamous* did away with that pretense. Mobb’s bleak vision crystallizes perfectly on first single “Shook Ones, Pt. II.” “Without the song…I don\'t know where I would be,” Havoc told Apple Music in a 2020 interview celebrating the album’s 25th anniversary. Havoc, who produced the bulk of the album in between some assists from mentor Q-Tip, slows down and distorts a Herbie Hancock piano snippet (1969’s “Jessica”) beyond recognition until it sounds like an out-of-tune horror movie guitar; Prodigy—who suffered from sickle cell anemia and died from complications in 2017—promising posers he’d “rock you in your face, stab your brain with your nose bone” remains one of the most graphic, scarily specific rap lines committed to tape. “He was very vivid in telling his side of the story,” Havoc told Apple Music. “He was a larger-than-life figure.” The song redefined the group’s trajectory and thrust them to the forefront of a rejuvenated New York rap scene that emphasized gritty street realism. Nas and Wu-Tang Clan’s Raekwon and Ghostface, fresh off their own breakout releases, officially welcomed Mobb to the city’s new pantheon by delivering some of their best-ever bars on “Right Back at You” and “Eye for a Eye (Your Beef Is Mines)”—cold-blooded anthems about vengeance, to-the-end loyalty, and making ruthless choices just to survive. “When you think of New York albums, you have to mention *The Infamous*—it was like the Olympics,” Raekwon told Apple Music about the album’s sessions. “‘You got to be ready—don’t fuck up!’ I just felt like I just had to just give them \[something\] good. Once they said, ‘Yo, solid,’ that\'s when I knew I passed the exam.” “I felt like I was going to school—it was a resurgence of New York,” Havoc added. “It was the beginning of a new era.” *The Infamous*’ nihilistic violence doesn’t let up until Q-Tip’s bouncy drum-and-saxophone loop opens up “Drink Away the Pain”; it seems like the album’s first moment of levity until you realize it’s an ode to alcohol\'s palliative abilities. “When you listen to it, listen to it at first and enjoy,” Tip told Apple Music of the album. “Then think about it from the perspective of a young black man who\'s still a teenager who\'s forced to step into the shoes of manhood in a wild environment to be able to just survive and provide for his young black family. \[If\] it’s either going to be me or you, if I\'m drawing first and you draw last, guess what? I win.”

A supergroups go, it doesn\'t get much more super than the hip-hop duo Prhyme, featuring legendary producer DJ Premier (Gang Starr) and Eminem protégé Royce Da 5\'9\" (Bad Meets Evil, Slaughterhouse). Premiere\'s beats are as succinct and propulsive as they were back when he was crafting them for the likes of Notorious B.I.G. and Nas, while Royce\'s lyrical backflips are matched by verses from A-list guests like Common and Schoolboy Q. Prhyme\'s slap-happy boom-bap and old-school record-scratching will send \'90s acolytes reeling, with tracks like \"Dat Sound Good\" and \"Underground Kings\" sounding distinctly old school. 

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.

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.

For all the fun they have as the house band for *The Tonight Show*, The Roots get down to business when they enter the studio. Billed as a concept album, *ATYSYC* features rappers Black Thought, Dice Raw, and Greg Porn relating vignettes about income inequality and spiritual bankruptcy within the African-American community. Brooding amid layers of soul breaks and the kind of erudite samples that fans have come to expect from music encyclopedia ?uestlove (\"Black Rock\" borrows funk chestnut \"Yeah Yeah\"), the album is more meditation than celebration. With its mournful piano and slumping beat, \"When the People Cheer\" is a representative sample: \"Everybody asks if God is all that/But I got a feeling he ain\'t never coming back,\" sings a children\'s choir on the hook. Longtime fans will be familiar with this somber side of The Roots, while newcomers used to them as Jimmy Fallon\'s sidekicks will discover a whole different side of this legendary hip-hop troupe.

The hip-hop industry is largely powered by bluster and bravado, which is why the matter-of-factness of *Hell Can Wait* is so compelling. Often, rappers as intelligent as Vince Staples treat their audience with a high level of sanctimony and condescension. Staples has a ferocious intellect, but he shows absolutely no interest in preaching. *Hell Can Wait* is about how he loves gangsta culture and hates it; how he loves hip-hop and loathes it; and how he\'s proud of his roots but disgusted. He speaks the truth—not only the sensationalistic details but the unbearable contradictions.