Perfume connoisseurs will recognize the title of the shadowy singer-songwriter’s third album: the mythic word for the earthy scent that accompanies the first rain after a long dry spell. For 070 Shake, the smell reminds her of her childhood in New Jersey; her mother would point it out after a heavy rain. After breaking through in 2018 with a handful of deeply felt features on songs from Pusha T and Ye, Shake’s haunting blend of rap and R&B wallowed in romantic anguish. On *Petrichor*, the 27-year-old musician gets vulnerable, stripping down her sound and falling headfirst into love. With the help of two longtime collaborators, composer Johan Lenox and producer Dave Hamelin, the ultra-private musician departs from the foggy synths and heavy vocal processing of past work, embracing guitar, piano, and lovestruck lyrics that leave it all on the table. Still, moodiness and mystery abound, from the dark ’80s power-pop of “Elephant,” an ode to uneasy mornings after long nights, to “Vagabond,” which channels old spaghetti westerns for a song about giving up your wild ways for a more domestic life. The tight guest list is made up of iconoclastic divas only (like an inspired cover of Tim Buckley’s “Song to the Siren” with none other than Courtney Love), but the best cameo comes from Shake’s partner Lily-Rose Depp, who delivers a raw spoken-word poem touching on aliens, Joan Baez, and mutual masochism.
If the words “Damn, son, where’d you find this?” set off your brain’s Pavlovian pleasure centers, the first full-length collaboration between the influential Chicago rapper and the Atlanta superproducer will take you back to the era when rap tapes fell from the sky, hastily compiled and laden with gratuitous DJ drops. The wily energy and plentiful “REAL TRAP SHIT” cues on *Dirty Nachos* harken back to the early 2010s, back when both Chief Keef and Mike WiLL were emerging as bold new stylists in a saturated trap landscape. Today the two veterans have earned their icon status, which frees them up to keep it wild and loose across the album’s 18 tracks. Blustering beats abound, as do Sosa’s often imitated, never duplicated lyrical obscurities. (“I told my daughter stop breaking off her Barbie heads!” he crows on “Harley Quinn.”) It’s an insular affair but for two well-chosen guest spots: 2 Chainz on “PULL UP GHOST-CLAN,” and on “DAMN SHORTY,” Sexyy Red, a Keef scholar in her own right.
Say what you will of their notoriously unruly behavior, $uicideboy$ fans know how to leverage collective power. The loyal cohort helped catapult the New Orleans duo’s cathartic emo-trap to a first official album debut within the Billboard Top 10. They’ve also come down hard when $uicideboy$’s menacing dirges for drug binges and depressive episodes past don’t meet expectations. On *New World Depression*, $crim and Ruby da Cherry’s first full album since 2022, the cousins address this doubt and dedication in equal measure, introducing newly measured textures to outline the long journey from a dark-sided fast life to international success. Sobriety has only synthesized $uicideboy$’s perspective on drug dependence and depression. That personal progress leaves these 13 tracks more meditative than ever, despite the bacchanalia still simmering on the back burner. Triplet flows and pounding 808s link the different moments across this record, but $crim and Cherry find new pockets to play in, maintaining a thread through their work without tweaking a style until it frays. “Are You Going to See the Rose in the Vase, or the Dust on the Table” channels the joy of Southern icons Big K.R.I.T. and Kevin Gates, while “Us Vs. Them” clatters and cascades through all the movements of a jazz symposium, the kind that lays $uicideboy$’s New Orleans heritage thrillingly bare. $crim’s new beats still favor classic Memphis flows rejuvenated in post-2010s cloud-rap sound baths. But his elegant touches on *New World Depression* still allow for playful experimentation, moments where Ruby da Cherry or $crim take unexpected leaps to tumble through vignettes recalling near-death nadirs and cloud-nine career highlights; $crim even throws in a snippet from a news interview with a confessed serial killer. With no features and just one remix, $uicideboy$ stick to what they’ve learned over a hard-won decade in the scene on *New World Depression*—and cook up something entirely new in the process.
By the time Daniel Dumile dropped this, his second proper MF DOOM album, he was already an underground legend. Part of that was his surreal origin story—after tragedy derailed his ’90s rap career, Dumile returned metal-masked and seeking revenge against the industry that wronged him. But most of his rep came from raw talent: a tumble of clever rhyme schemes and punchlines set to a loping score of rough-cut jazz loops and vintage film snippets. While his cachet would carry DOOM into collabs with members of Radiohead, Wu-Tang, and even *Aqua Teen Hunger Force*, *MM...Food* finds him in the early days of his crossover appeal, totally ignoring his own hype. While many concept albums lean toward the esoteric or idea-stuffed, this one is built on an almost tauntingly basic conceit: Throw DOOM a topic (food) and watch the wordplay go. On opener “Beef Rapp,” he delves into the mortal dangers of, well, rap beef: “I suggest you change your diet/It can lead to high blood pressure if you fry it.” And “Hoe Cakes” toys with another hip-hop trope—dastardly deeds done after dark. But lest you think the culinary connections are all easily parsed, try “Potholderz” on for size: DOOM finds at least four meanings for these kitchen aids, casting them in one instance as tools that help him cook up and cannibalize lesser MCs. Metal Fingers flexes his producer skills, too, packing the album’s midsection with jaunty sound collages that use Fat Albert and Frank Zappa samples to extend the edible metaphor. But nothing beats hearing DOOM croon his best/worst Cole Porter impression over a Madlib track, then binge-rap a two-minute verse inspired by beer. MM...Food captures Dumile at his most unburdened, making these songs as nourishing as they are fun.
Call it a deluxe expansion or a companion album for the prior month’s *INSANO*, but much like the rest of his discography, Kid Cudi’s second full-length of 2024 doesn’t need a label. In line with the Adam Sandler sample that opens the aggressive “HUMAN MADE,” *INSANO (NITRO MEGA)* shows no mercy to those who ever dared count out Scott Mescudi. A mix of new material and polished rarities, the roughly hour-long set finds him in his bag and linking with Wiz Khalifa and Pusha T, among others. The Chosen One’s more patient fans will note the presence at long last of “DOSE OF DOPENESS” and *WZRD* outtake “ROCKET,” both now officially released more than a decade after they first emerged in other capacities. Also returning from Cudi’s distant past is Chip tha Ripper, an erstwhile collaborator who brings the bars to an eclectic trio of tracks: the vibey “ANIMATE,” the slo-mo “WILLIS,” and the maximalist “WIN OR LOSE.” A notable guest on the first *INSANO*, Lil Yachty arrives in time for “ROUND N ROUND,” an aesthetically spacey ballad that beautifully showcases two of hip-hop’s most unique singing rappers’ respective styles.
When Young Nudy and Pi’erre Bourne dropped *Sli’merre* back in 2019, they recruited superstars like 21 Savage, Megan Thee Stallion, DaBaby, and Lil Uzi Vert to help prop up their psychedelic, red-eyed collaborative project. On the 2024 sequel, though, the duo opt to mostly handle things themselves, with Nudy riding high off the success of his 2023 album *Gumbo* and Pi’erre in a similar boat following his decision to release some of his rarest snippets in an EP titled *Grails*. With a sole feature from BabyDrill, *Sli’merre 2* is entirely centered on Nudy’s flow and the way he wraps himself in the warm, synth- and bass-heavy beats from Pi’erre. The Atlanta-born rapper remains as defiantly playful as ever, dedicating an entire track entitled “Money” to “trying to break” his bank account, and another that finds him explaining how little he worries by invoking the age-old saying of “Hakuna Matata.” As is always the case when Young Nudy and Pi’erre Bourne link up, the duo cook up the cleverest, strangest, and most interesting ways to highlight just how colorful this world really is.
Though Westside Gunn considered turning off his microphone for good in 2023, it was only a year later that he returned to form with *11*, a five-track effort that served as a prelude to his long-teased full-length album *Still Praying*. Though only five tracks long, *11* is a tribute to the Griselda leader’s roots, honoring two of his friends: Sly Green, who is serving a 100-year prison sentence, and Big Dump, who died in 2018. Because of this, Westside has referred to the project as his most personal to date, a statement that’s reflected in the heartfelt rhymes and diaristic storytelling. Take the soul-sample-infused “BIG DUMP BALLAD,” which finds Gunn reflecting on his brother, Conway the Machine, and his dearly departed cousin, MachineGun Black, who was also the brother of Griselda partner Benny the Butcher. He raps: “My heart got scars, my brother face crooked/Allah took us from \'ChineGun, I was devastated.” Later, he adds: “If I had three wishes, I\'d want to get Sly out of prison/Make sure my babies live life with no ceilin\'.” Westside Gunn may not be able to free his incarcerated friends or bring back those who have lost their lives, but thanks to his ability as a rapper, his kids will certainly live life knowing that the sky’s the limit.
“Genres are a funny little concept, aren’t they?” Linda Martell cackles at the beginning of “SPAGHETTII.” Perhaps the name Linda Martell isn’t a household one, which only proves her point. She was the first Black woman to perform at the Grand Ole Opry, but her attempt to move from soul and R&B into the realm of country in the 1960s was met with racist resistance—everything from heckling to outright blackballing. Beyoncé knows the feeling, as she explained in an uncharacteristically vulnerable Instagram post revealing that her eighth studio album was inspired by a deep dive into the history of Black country music following an experience where she felt similarly unwelcome. *COWBOY CARTER* is a sprawling 80-minute tribute not only to those pioneering artists and their outlaw spirit, but to the very futility of reducing music to a single identifying word. Another key quote from that post: “This ain’t a country album. This is a Beyoncé album.” It’s more than a catchy slogan; anyone looking for mere honky-tonk cosplay is missing a much richer and more complex point. Listening in full to Act II of the presumed trilogy Bey began with 2022’s *RENAISSANCE*, it’s clear that the perennial overachiever hasn’t merely “gone country,” she’s interrogating what the word even means—and who merits the designation. On “AMERIICAN REQUIEM,” in a voice deep and earthy as Texas red dirt, the Houston native sings, “Used to say I spoke too country/And then the rejection came, said I wasn’t country enough.” She nods again, as she’s done before on songs like “Formation,” to her family ties to Alabama moonshiners and Louisiana Creoles. “If that ain’t country,” she wonders, “tell me what is.” With subtlety and swagger, she contextualizes country as an offshoot of the Black American musical canon, a storytelling mode springing from and evolving alongside gospel and blues. Over the wistful pedal steel and gospel organ of “16 CARRIAGES,” she tells you what it’s like to be a teenage workhorse who grows into an adult perfectionist obsessed with ideas of legacy, with a bit of family trauma buried among the riffs. On “YA YA,” Beyoncé expands the scope to rock ’n’ roll at its most red-blooded and fundamental, playing the parts of both Ike and Tina as she interpolates The Beach Boys and slips in a slick Playboi Carti reference, yowling: “My family lived and died in America/Good ol’ USA/Whole lotta red in that white and blue/History can’t be erased.” A Patsy Cline standard goes Jersey club mode on “SWEET ★ HONEY ★ BUCKIIN’,” with a verse from the similarly genre-flouting Shaboozey and a quick note regarding *RENAISSANCE*‘s Grammy fortunes: “AOTY I ain’t win/I ain’t stuntin’ ’bout them/Take that shit on the chin/Come back and fuck up the pen.” Who but Beyoncé could make a crash course in American music history feel like the party of the year? There’s the one-two punch of sorely needed summer slow-dance numbers: the Miley Cyrus duet “II MOST WANTED,” with its whispers of Fleetwood Mac, followed by “LEVII’S JEANS” with Post Malone, the “in those jeans” anthem filling the radio’s Ginuwine-shaped hole. *RENAISSANCE*’s euphorically nasty house bounce returns, albeit with more banjo, on “RIIVERDANCE,” where “II HANDS II HEAVEN” floats on clouds of ’90s electronica for an ode to alternately riding wild horses and 24-inch spinners on candy paint. (Houston, Texas, baby!) There are do-si-do ditties, murder ballads, daddy issues, whiskey kisses, hungover happy hours, cornbread and grits, Beatles covers, smoke breaks, and, on “DAUGHTER,” what may or may not be a wink in the direction of the artist who won AOTY instead. There’s also a Dolly-approved Beyoncification of “Jolene,” to whom the protagonist is neither saying please nor begging on the matter of taking her man. (“Your peace depends on how you move, Jolene,” Bey purrs, ice in her veins.) Is this a genre-bucking hoedown? A chess move? A reckoning? A requiem? If anyone can pull it off, it’s *COWBOY CARTER*, as country as it gets.
A yellow curtain ripples and parts to reveal a strange world inhabited by strange people in retro attire. No, it’s not the latest David Lynch joint, but the extended cinematic universe of *All Is Yellow*: the first compilation album curated by Cole Bennett, the 27-year-old director and founder of Lyrical Lemonade, the company behind a decent chunk of the last decade’s viral rap videos. (Naturally, a music video accompanies each of the 14 tracks; not the easiest feat for a project with 34 featured guests.) The album functions as a handy primer for anyone who’s slept through the last 10 years of hip-hop zeitgeist, from angsty drill to “mumble rap” to the gloriously incoherent fractal that is rap in 2024. Here, absurdist Detroit scam-rappers trade bars with solemn Chicago drill vets (BabyTron and G Herbo on “Equilibrium”) and two generations of melancholy balladeers find common ground (Kid Cudi and Lil Durk on “Guitar in My Room”). True to Lyrical Lemonade form, Easter eggs abound: After the late Juice WRLD and Cordae join forces on “Doomsday” for a shockingly great impression of Eminem circa ’99, the real Slim Shady shows up for round two. And on “First Night,” verses from Juicy J and Teezo Touchdown are capped off by a blissed-out “birds and bees” monologue from Lil B the Based God.
Having previously partnered with some of hip-hop’s most iconic producers, not the least of whom being J Dilla, Common built a career on securing superb beats to suit his agile rhymes. While many rappers of his generation hopped from trend to trend, repeat and reliable collaboration proved core to his discography, with several of the same studio figures from his early albums now fixtures in his circle decades later. It’s the native Chicagoan’s characteristic consistency, perhaps, that makes *The Auditorium, Vol. 1* such a momentous album event. A hip-hop artist indisputably worthy of the word “legend,” Pete Rock comes to this joint effort with the rare distinction of both defining and embodying Golden Era greatness. Though relatively selective about who he deems dope enough to form a duo with since the C.L. Smooth days, the Bronx-born producer generated goodwill and critical respect for his 2010s efforts opposite his city’s Skyzoo and Smoke DZA. As such, he makes a formidable complement for Common, evident from the jump on the exquisite intro “Dreamin’.” His timeless instrumentals conjure certain nostalgic tendencies from the MC, his verses on “We’re on Our Way” and “This Man” laden with old-school references and lyrical memorabilia. From the jazzy swing of “Everything’s So Grand” to the enlightened gospel groove of “A GOD (There Is),” the pair deliver on the promise of their premise, delivering theatrical thrills befitting their skills. And not that an album of this caliber requires special rapper guests, but Posdnuos of De La Soul is a naturally welcome addition to “When the Sun Shines Again.” Furthermore, Rock lays down some refreshing bars of his own on “All Kind of Ideas,” thus providing Common with a worthy foil on the mic as well as off and increasing anticipation for a presumed second volume.
Historically, the Drops series of EPs has served as a platform for Little Simz to express her more immediate creative thoughts and inner feelings, parallel to—and sometimes in concert with—her fully realized, full-length projects. *Drop 7* presents a curious window into the rapper’s current moment in time, spread across seven snapshots seemingly snatched in the well-timed flash of strobe lights. When she last checked in on a Drops release (battling through lockdown isolation and a bout of self-doubt to create *Drop 6* in 2020) Simz was still a year away from *Sometimes I Might Be Introvert*, the game-changing album that garnered the long-overdue recognition meritorious of such a singular talent. Undeniably at the top of her game right now, Simz channels that potent self-confidence through the fervent, primal Jakwob production—the powerfully still eye in a storm of commanding drums and reverberating echoes. Opening track “Mood Swings” foreshadows the pendulum sweep that occurs between “SOS” and “I Ain’t Feelin It,” separating the EP into two neatly opposing halves. The first is front-loaded with heart-pounding, club-ready beats and an untouchable, unrelenting Simz: “Torch” borrows the signature Jersey-bounce squeak, “Fever” marks a return to São Paulo (the setting for 2021’s collaboration between Jakwob and Simz, “Rollin Stone”) for a bilingual, baile-funk-infused flirtation. The back end sees Simz floating her meditations on the less palatable side of success over intricate, yet reserved instrumentation, closing out with “Far Away,” a lovelorn lament that drenches the racing percussion in melancholic piano chords. Whether or not *Drop 7* is a one-off experiment or an intriguing hint at a new direction, it’s electrifying to experience new facets of Simz’s consummate artistry. She proves herself as compelling as ever.
Since Maxo Kream first broke through with 2015’s *#Maxo187*, he’s established himself as one of the most creative songwriters and storytellers in rap. On his 2024 album *Personification*, he ups the ante, imbuing the project with a heady concept organized around the various ways he has presented himself on record. There’s Trigga Maxo, hardened by the streets and inspired by the swampy Southern goodness of Houston’s rap tradition. Then there’s Punken, the character named after his childhood nickname, fond of nostalgia and simpler times. Kream also introduces Emekwanem, after his given name, representative of his responsibilities as a man and father. *Personification* finds Maxo diving into all of the themes presented by these different characters, a style exemplified on “Bibles and Rifles.” On the skittering, dance-inspired track, Maxo asks: “Is it heaven for a gangsta/Is it heaven for a G/The ones who rob, shoot, or shank you but still take care of families?” It’s a question Maxo Kream ponders again and again on *Personification*: Is it too late to be good? Can hustlers find redemption too?
Though SahBabii has been a staple of the rap scene for over a decade, his 2024 album *Saaheem* is only his second full-length LP. SahBabii sounds so confident, though, that it’s clear he spent his off-seasons practicing. The Chicago-born rapper moved to Atlanta as a young teen, and the blend of trap and drill that he brings to his albums is an effortless combination of the two subgenres. On *Saaheem*, which is also his birth name, SahBabii doesn’t force-feed these different aspects of his musical style. Rather, they subtly shape his sonic worldview, creating an album that’s fascinating in its understated variety. Take “Viking,” a booming, rumbling track that features the canonlike bass of Windy City street rap with the triplet hi-hat rhythms and syrupy flow of ATL mainstays like Young Thug and Migos. On “Kodak,” he plays with the plugg style prevalent on the East Coast, crooning over pillowy synths so warm they practically wrap him in a hug. No matter what city he touches down in, SahBabii sounds at home.
Larry June is one of rap’s most sought-after collaborators, but on 2024’s *Doing It for Me*, he eschews features entirely to reestablish his POV as one of hip-hop’s smoothest voices. In 2023, Larry dropped *The Great Escape*, which was produced entirely by The Alchemist and featured Action Bronson, Big Sean, Slum Village, and more. That same year, he linked up with another heavy-hitting producer in Cardo for *The Night Shift*, which featured guest bars from 2 Chainz, ScHoolboy Q, Too $hort, and plenty of others. The glitz and glamour from guest stars are nowhere to be found on *Doing It for Me*, which finds the Bay Area spitter delivering lovesick bars over classic West Coast funk beats. Take “Stinson Beach,” which sounds like Parliament remixing a Dr. Dre production and features June showcasing his best singing voice. “But when I’m not with you, baby girl, I don’t feel the same,” he croons, the desire in his voice practically palpable. Larry keeps the missed connections front of mind on “Meet Me in Napa,” a raunchy ode to the weekend getaway that finds the spitter going wine tasting with a lady who remains just out of reach: “Would have been my main girl,” he sings, before adding, “In another lifetime.”
SiR hasn’t released a new album since his 2019 hit *Chasing Summer*. Although fans have been eagerly waiting, the holdup between projects has been personal due to his struggles with depression, substance abuse, love, and stints in and out of rehab—all of which became the foundation for his introspective fourth LP *HEAVY*. “It’s me being vulnerable in different ways, it’s me diving deeper,” he tells Apple Music. “I thought *Chasing Summer* was personal, but this record really showed me a lot about myself as a creator, as a man, and it’s all on there, and I think those moments are necessary. I had to have those moments. Looking back at what I’m providing, the project that you’re getting, I wouldn’t change a thing.” Serving as a therapeutic letter to himself as he tackles his issues, *HEAVY* is a road map of SiR’s journey from addiction to sobriety across 16 tracks. The title track, “HEAVY,” is a cry for help as the Inglewood, California, native grapples with the pressures of fame and the expectations that come from it. “Oh, I been killing myself softly/Lost my mind completely/I really hope I can find my way back to you,” he croons. SiR wrestles with his shortcomings and the impact they have on his relationships (“Satisfaction,” “ONLY HUMAN”) and the ups and downs of trying to stay sober (“TRYIN’ MY HARDEST”). Despite that, the tone of *HEAVY* shifts towards the middle of the album, tackling the process of healing (“BRIGHTER”) and forgiveness (“I’M NOT PERFECT,” “Nothing Even Matters”)—whether it’s from others or himself. “It’s like you’re starting in this really dark place, and you’re going from heavy to light,” he says. “That’s how I kind of wanted it to feel because that was how it was for me. I was in the darkest place of my life, and I was transitioning out as I was getting healthy. And the music I was creating was kind of shaping itself that way. It was a natural thing to put it in that order. It’s like you started. In a dark tunnel, you’re heading towards the light. And I know it’s going to feel like that for a lot of people.”
The scrappy Memphis rapper has been on a two-year victory lap since her 2022 breakthrough hit “F.N.F. (Let’s Go)” established her as one of rap’s most promising new voices. Since then, GloRilla’s dropped an EP (2022’s *Anyways, Life’s Great...*) and her first studio mixtape (2024’s *Ehhthang Ehhthang*), scored a Grammy nomination, and sold out arenas alongside Megan Thee Stallion for the Hot Girl Summer Tour. The glow-up is real on *GLORIOUS*, her official debut album, but let it be known that the reigning queen of crunk is still hanging out the window with her ratchet-ass friends when the opportunity arises. “It’s 7 pm Friday/It’s 95 degrees/I ain’t got no n\*\*\*a and no n\*\*\*a ain’t got me,” she declares in the opening bars of “TGIF,” a worthy “F.N.F.” follow-up made for blasting at max volume. There’s plenty of the rowdy girl-power anthems fans have come to expect from Big Glo, among them the bad-bitch motivational “PROCEDURE” with Latto and “WHATCHU KNO ABOUT ME,” a Sexyy Red collab that riffs on the Trill Entertainment classic “Wipe Me Down.” Less expected is “RAIN DOWN ON ME,” a gospel number with a blessing from Kirk Franklin, though it’s really only fitting for a rapper born Gloria Hallelujah Woods.
Whether as Marshall Mathers or Slim Shady, Eminem never fails to make a strong impression. His discography regularly documents a struggle between the Detroit-bred rap superstar’s two outspoken personas, an artistic battle followed closely by his most ardent and attentive fans, while pitchfork-wielding outsiders and his more casual listeners never bothered to discern the difference. The willfully profane Slim and the comparatively less sacrilegious Marshall compose a dramaturgical dyad that makes each of his album releases feel like blockbusters. That said, the stakes feel dramatically high on *The Death of Slim Shady (Coup De Grâce)*, its title the most thematically loaded of his two-and-a-half-decade career. If this does end up the genuine final curtain call for Eminem’s most notorious alter ego, he makes it a point to execute it on his own controversy-baiting terms, whether people like it or not. Addressing his detractors head-on, “Habits” defensively dismantles criticisms both internal and external, taking personal inventory while decrying political correctness. Cancel culture and wokeness as existential threats stay front of mind throughout, looming particularly large over the combative “Antichrist” and the Dr. Dre co-produced “Lucifer.” Repeated references to Caitlyn Jenner won’t quell the perpetual transphobia accusations Eminem has long faced, but on songs like “Evil” and “Road Rage” he at least aims to clarify his positions amid his characteristically clever wordplay. Naturally, Slim isn’t about to go out quietly. Ever the eager pugilist, he exploits his upper hand with Fight Club panache on “Brand New Dance” and “Trouble.” The character’s antagonism vacillates between self-destructive outbursts and strategic gaslighting, gleefully poking at touchy topics on “Houdini” and assigning we’re-in-this-together complicity to Marshall on the surprise sequel “Guilty Conscience 2.” Yet even as the tragicomically intertwined foes grapple with one another, the album still makes room for something as personal as “Temporary,” a heartfelt message to his daughter for after he’s gone. With the added benefit of a few unexpected cameos, including Michigan-repping cut “Tobey” with Big Sean and BabyTron, the over-the-top theatricality driving *The Death of…* feels like fan service, giving his longtime patrons the Eminem show they’ve come to expect from him.
The award for “most meteoric come-up of 2024” goes to Tommy Richman, the 24-year-old singer who blew up seemingly overnight with “MILLION DOLLAR BABY,” the groovy TikTok sensation that went on to take over the charts. Though he seemed to come from nowhere, the Woodbridge, Virginia, native and trained opera singer released his first EP, *Paycheck*, in 2022, then signed to kindred spirit Brent Faiyaz’s label in 2023. Still, to launch a song-of-the-summer contender amidst the great Kendrick Lamar/Drake beef of 2024 isn’t just beginner’s luck. Most newcomers would milk that kind of success for all it’s worth, but you won’t find “MILLION DOLLAR BABY” on Richman’s debut album, *COYOTE*. Bold play. Richman’s an old soul, drawn to ’80s funk and the kind of R&B that had men doing choreography and wearing their hearts on their silky sleeves. That’s *COYOTE*’s mood from top to bottom, with each of its 11 tracks flowing seamlessly into the next, giving the feeling of a party with an excellent DJ. There’s pathos in his echoing falsetto, which hits a little harder when he doesn’t quite hit the note, as on “WHITNEY,” a Frank Ocean song run through a shiny ’80s funk filter. “TENNESSEE” channels SoundCloud rap boosted with vintage Bay Area bounce, while “LETTERMAN” has the young nostalgist draping his letterman’s jacket on his girl’s shoulders before taking her out to the speakeasy. It’s a fresh, cohesive introduction to an artist poised to transcend “one-hit wonder” status.
Looking at the stats, you’d think Megan Thee Stallion was on top of the world: “HISS,” the second single from her third studio album, was her first solo chart-topper. But as the silver-tongued Houston native has risen from cult-favorite Instagram freestyler to full-fledged cultural force after breaking through with 2019’s “Hot Girl Summer,” the rapper’s been weighed down by grief and betrayal, all highly public and intensely scrutinized. On 2022’s *Traumazine*, Megan began to let down her guard and open up about her pain. She teased its follow-up in late 2023 with a statement: “Just as a snake sheds its skin, we must shed our past, over and over again.” On *MEGAN*, she’s still going through it, but she’s not going down without a fight. The motif of the snake, coiled and waiting to strike, winds its way through *MEGAN*’s 18 tracks with cool, collected menace. “Still going hard with the odds against me,” she spits on “HISS” over an eerie beat from go-to producer LilJuMadeDaBeat. She’s got devastating burns for everybody within earshot on “Rattle,” snapping at an unnamed peer, “Your life must be boring as fuck if you still reminiscing ’bout shit that we did.” (Her claim to be “a motherfuckin’ brat, not a Barbie” on “Figueroa” might clarify its intended target.) There are moments of levity: “Otaku Hot Girl” flexes her arcane anime knowledge, while “Accent” recruits Hot Girl Summer tourmate GloRilla for a country-girl ode to being “thicker than a Popeye’s biscuit.” But you get the sense that for Megan, it’s awfully lonely at the top: On “Moody Girl,” she switches her trademark tagline to “real motherfuckin’ sad girl shit.” And over the metalcore guitar chug driving “COBRA,” she tells you how it feels to break down while the world is watching.
The hip-hop polymath built a reputation on witty freestyles that befitted her Philadelphia roots, then broke through in 2017 with “MUMBO JUMBO,” a purposefully unintelligible trap ditty that brought new resonance to the term “mumble rap” with a Grammy-nominated video that should come with a warning for those with dentophobia. Her debut album, 2018’s *Whack World*, crammed an LP’s worth of ideas into the time it takes to brew a pot of coffee: 15 sharp, surrealist minute-long tracks that veered from slapstick vocal hijinks to straight-ahead spitting, each accompanied by its own micro music video. The world Whack built was carnival-esque, all funhouse mirrors and sensory overload, with a darkness lingering at the edges. Aside from a trio of three-song EPs (the tentatively titled *Rap?*, *Pop?*, and *R&B?*) released in 2021, Whack kept a puzzlingly low profile in the years that followed. The colorful critical darling who’d had so much to say in so little time had more or less gone quiet. Then, six years after *Whack World*, she announced *WORLD WIDE WHACK*, billed as the rapper’s real full-length debut. Early videos continued the high-concept ideas and cartoonish costumes, but listen awhile and you heard something new: naked vulnerability, almost shocking in its rawness. “I can show you how it feels when you lose what you love,” Whack sing-songs on the twinkling “27 CLUB,” looking like a cross between Pierrot the clown and Bootsy Collins. The hook was one word, drawn out into a wistful melody: “Suiciiiiide…” In other words, there’s more to Whack’s world than you might expect. (“Might look familiar, but I promise you don’t know me,” she reminds you on the minute-and-change “MOOD SWING.”) Over the 15 songs of *WORLD WIDE WHACK*, the rapper grapples with real life, where echoes of abandonment and instances of suicidal ideation coexist with bursts of cockiness, uncertainty, lust, loneliness. The constant is her voice, thoughtful and brimming with ideas as ever. “BURNING BRAINS” is an expression of depressive thinking filtered through Whack’s imagistic lens: “Soup too hot, ice too cold, grass too green, sky too blue.” And there’s a great deal of whimsy, too, as on “SHOWER SONG,” a space-funk bop on the joys of singing in the bathroom.
Named after his childhood home, J. Cole’s highly revered third studio album sticks to the Fayetteville, NC rapper’s well-established formula, featuring several self-produced cuts in which warm, old-school samples underpin lyrics about life’s weighty lessons. But unlike earlier offerings, *2014 Forest Hills Drive* makes hard pills easy to swallow, as the rapper finds his footing and perfects the balance between conscious and commercial. The album also finds Cole trying to balance the coexistence of darkness and light, with the smile-inducing “Wet Dreamz” pouring into poignant cuts like “03’ Adolescence.” All the while, Cole’s lyrical approach is as unpretentious as his wardrobe, with the MC delivering lessons on cultural appropriation, relatable childhood faux pas, and the true meaning of life. Thanks to its unflinching confidence, playful narratives, and soulful reflections, *2014 Forest Hills Drive* would prove to be Cole’s most successful album—culturally and critically—upon its release in 2014. It would go on to sell more than 3 million copies, thanks in part to a daring (and deeply personal) marketing campaign: Cole announced the record less than a month before its drop date, and in the lead-up to release day, the rapper invited a group of his biggest fans to the *actual* 2014 Forest Hills Drive for a listening session (later, Cole turned that very home into rent-free housing for single mothers). To this day, *2014 Forest Hills Drive* remains a crucial entry in the J. Cole catalog: an album that draws on his past, while also giving listeners a glimpse of his future.
Whether singing in Spanish or in English, Kali Uchis continually proves herself to be a versatile performer. Following 2020’s *Sin Miedo (del Amor y Otros Demonios)* and its hit single “telepatía,” the Colombian American singer eventually boasted that she had two more albums, one in each language, more or less at the ready, the first being 2023’s soulful *Red Moon in Venus* and the next being *ORQUÍDEAS*. With lyrics primarily (though not exclusively) in Spanish, she delivers an exquisite pop-wise R&B set here, one replete with clubby highs and balladic depth. The dance floor is well served with cuts like “Me Pongo Loca” and “Pensamientos Intrusivos,” her ethereal vocals elevating them further. The collaborations reflect her journey as well as her status, as she links with superstar KAROL G on the polished perreo throwback “Labios Mordidos” and música mexicana sensation Peso Pluma for the romantic duet “Igual Que Un Ángel.” On “Muñekita,” she bridges her two worlds with the aid of Dominican dynamo El Alfa and City Girls rapper JT, who combine to produce an irresistible dembow moment.
It feels fairly remarkable that Lil Tecca is now five full-length projects deep into his rap career. After all, it seems like only yesterday that the Queens, New York, phenom broke out in a big way with the 2019 smash “Ransom” and the corresponding *We Love You Tecca* mixtape. Over the next half-decade, he regularly logged chart hits, including the 2023 standout “500lbs.” For his fourth album in as many years, he continues to mine a sound built on swirling synths, post-trap percussion, and melodic vocals. Preceded by booming singles like “BAD TIME” and “NEVER LAST,” *PLAN A* shows an artist living in—and sounding like—this specific moment in time. Having come into stardom as a teen, Tecca’s youthful energy ensures his delivery neither slackens nor wanes across these 18 tracks. He documents his endurance on the shimmering “24HRS” and brags about the type of baddies he pulls on “HOMEBODY.” Even when the tempo noticeably drops, as on the drill-adjacent “SELF2SELF” or the steal-your-girl warning “NUMBER 2,” he stays engaging and engaged. There appears to be no limits to his sex life, a topic he expounds upon at length throughout the album’s runtime. Whether calculatingly limiting his communications with an eager lover on “4U” or pondering whether a taken woman is worth the pursuit (“COLD GIRLS”), he seems exceedingly comfortable in his young-lothario niche. A rare exception to these predominantly solo cuts, the bass-heavy “I CAN’T LET GO” brings Don Toliver into the studio to extoll the virtues of their hip-hop celebrity vices.
There’s a reason why USHER’s legions of fans call him the King of R&B: He’s been making hits for 30 years, since his self-titled debut album arrived in 1994; achieved diamond certification for his fourth album, *Confessions*; hosted a long-running Vegas residency; and landed the 2024 Apple Music Super Bowl LVIII Halftime Show. USHER’s accomplishments, creative and otherwise, should be enough to allow him to rest on his laurels, but instead, in the lead-up to that halftime show performance, he enters his next era with *COMING HOME*. USHER’s ninth album is a return to his roots and a celebration of his legacy. It’s also his first project as an independent artist, and it reunites him with longtime collaborator L.A. Reid, who signed him at 14. (*COMING HOME* also features frequent collaborators Johnta Austin, Jermaine Dupri, and Bryan-Michael Cox.) “I’ve been coming home in a lot of different ways,” USHER tells Apple Music. “The choice of music and reconnection to some of the people I’ve worked with from my past and always wanted to work with; writers I’ve actually made hit No. 1 records with. In a sense, I’m coming home because I’m in that comfortable space.” The album, he says, “is a love letter to the experience that I have as a man. It’s filled with romance.” Across 20 tracks, USHER narrates vignettes of love, lust, love lost, and everything in between. On the opening title track—which also features Nigerian singer-songwriter Burna Boy—he longs to return home to his lover after being on tour. He teams up with Summer Walker and 21 Savage on “Good Good,” in which the trio deals with an amicable breakup. “‘Good Good’ is not necessarily the most positive, but it is not bad,” USHER explains. “It’s not toxic. It\'s still a romantic song in the sense that we ain’t got to be enemies. That’s still a romantic way to have a conversation.” But on the tender ballad “Risk It All,” H.E.R. details a romantic journey between two lovers putting it on the line in the name of love. USHER then gets vulnerable on “Room in a Room” as he reflects on the hardships of growing apart within a relationship. It\'s all delivered with dreamy, intoxicating vocals set against bedroom pop, with beats ranging from bouncy (“Kissing Strangers,” “Keep on Dancin’”) to trap (“Cold Blooded”) to Afrobeats (“Ruin”) to new jack swing (“I Love U,” “Please U”). “Love is so central. It’s the source of it all, man,” USHER says. “Love is the thing that makes your heart beat, the thing that moves your spirit. Love is at the center of all things. The love of money, the love of life, and the love of partnership, love of even just a moment, love of connection.”
