The 20 Best Rap Albums of 2017
On the strength of staggering streaming numbers, hip-hop officially became the dominant genre in America for the first time ever this year. The metrics finally caught up to the zeitgeist, leading to a rap renaissance atop the charts. But there were more subtle reckonings within the year’s most rousing rap albums, which wrestled with form and function, introspection and interaction, self-awareness, legacy, and duty. Rappers deconstructed their old works, or capitalized on years of momentum, or reevaluated their place in rap and the wider world. Young rappers took command, and older rappers took stock. Some delved deeper inside themselves, while others expanded outward into melody and motion, changing the very idea of what a rap record can be.
Listen to selections from this list on our Spotify and Apple Music playlists.
Rapsody: Laila’s Wisdom
Rapsody spends almost every second of Laila’s Wisdom offering lessons, many of them passed down from her grandmother, for whom the project is named. But just as many are hers—detailed instructions on finding beauty in blackness, or neighborly warnings about the dangers that plague black communities, or breaking down the differences between tenuous and tangible power. The indie-rap vet has long been one of hip-hop’s premier writers, and on “Jesus Coming,” she plays out the final thoughts of several victims of gun violence—a man hanging with the wrong crowd, a mother and daughter who become bystanders, a shootout among gangbangers leaving both bloody—each scenario slowly becoming an elegy. These are the recitations of a lifelong listener, thoughtful and profound, sharing all she’s absorbed along the way.
Listen: Rapsody, “Jesus Coming”
milo: who told you to think??!!?!?!?!
milo is an intensely cerebral MC who values theory. There is a sorcery to his wordplay, and who told you to think??!!?!?!?! finds as much value in the perfect articulation of an idea as the train of thought that spawned it. The album is a seemingly endless maze of digressions, asides, and musings, philosophical in nature yet craft-like in practice. But don’t be fooled: Every sentence is purposeful; no word is out of place. He’ll burrow into a beat and then spring forth, uncoiling dense raps mentioning art theorists, essayists, and sculptors, sometimes in reference to their works or ideas but mostly as personal touchstones in an endless search for truth.
Listen: milo, “sorcerer”
YoungBoy Never Broke Again: A.I. Youngboy
Baton Rouge teenager YoungBoy Never Broke Again found new power in freedom on A.I. YoungBoy, his post-prison screed. It’s a cold and absorbing project that bubbles with pent-up rage and unease as it hides trauma with gun-toting machismo. His songs are indebted to local forebears like Boosie Badazz and Kevin Gates, who have similar track records, but he has grown into a formidable MC in his own right, versatile and charming. These are tales of a young man trying to find his way, one who feels beholden to the same streets that could cost him his life.
Listen: YoungBoy Never Broke Again, “Wat Chu Gone Do” [ft. Peewee Longway]
2 Chainz: Pretty Girls Like Trap Music
To promote Pretty Girls Like Trap Music, 2 Chainz covered an abandoned Atlanta house in pink paint. His raps have a similar effect, airbrushing trap scenes in bright and eye-grabbing colors, making them garish and absurd. Long a punchline legend, 2 Chainz honed his songwriting and became one of the most complete rappers across the last few years, and he can continue to count himself among the greatest rap imagineers of his generation. His raps feel as plush as the luxuries he covets, and this album is the rapper’s most centered offering in a career full of devastatingly vivid zingers.
Listen: 2 Chainz, “4 AM” [ft. Travis Scott]
Kamaiyah: Before I Wake
Kamaiyah is an indomitable force of positivity, and on the mixtape Before I Wake she refocuses, taking control of her career and her mental health following a rash of frustrating album delays. The project is cohesive, glossy, stylish, and sophisticated, as her candied melodies get compressed through a sleepy, singsong delivery. “Which one of y’all gonna stop me? ’Cause ain’t nobody standing in my way,” she sings on “The Wave,” suggesting an imminent title run. Until then, this will more than suffice.
Listen: Kamaiyah, “Slide (Bet)”
MIKE: May God Bless Your Hustle
This prodigious teenage rapper from New York City is constantly seeing and analyzing. His raps are packed with snap judgments, stream-of-consciousness observations that vanish as quickly as they appear. May God Bless Your Hustle is a marvel, delivered through a sonorous, megaphonic voice. On “Greedy,” he’s starkly confessional: “It ain’t really ’bout the lyrics or the wordplay/Boy, this somethin’ for my spirit and my worst days, nigga/Lookin’ in the mirror be the worst thing/Bulky black body where the shirt hang.” But he’ll sneak in something sly just as fluidly. Some songs are flashes. Others are monologues. MIKE makes rapping seem easy, but it’s the kernels of wisdom scattered in his musings that resonate.
Listen: MIKE, “PIGEONFEET”
Lil Uzi Vert: Luv Is Rage 2
Lil Uzi Vert has proclaimed himself a rockstar—going as far as wearing an iced-out Marilyn Manson pendant—and his breakout smash, “XO TOUR Llif3,” positioned him as the boldest emo rapper out there. Outfitted with glowing production and poised performances, Luv Is Rage 2 isn’t quite as unexpected as that hit, but it still solidifies the arrival of a promising young star. Whether Uzi is slathering his strange Auto-Tuned croak over gleaming rap ballads or holding his own on collaborations with Pharrell and the Weeknd, the 23-year-old provides a palpable punk energy at every turn.
Listen: Lil Uzi Vert, “XO TOUR Llif3”
Chief Keef: Thot Breaker
Of all the radical pivots in Chief Keef’s fascinating career, Thot Breaker is the most sublime. Full of his sweetest melodies and soothing tones, the mixtape exists as an affectionate outlier in an otherwise thorny catalog. When he isn’t wooing women, he’s having heart-to-heart talks about trust and friendship. He’s genteel, charming, and accessible, serenading side chicks and delighting in their companionship. “You don’t have to worry, girl, it’s just you and me,” he croons. But, for all its sentimentality, this isn’t a fantasy. Refusing to be mistaken for a romantic, Chief Keef luxuriates in messy relationships, seducing women away from their boyfriends and stewing in the chaos he’s caused. Even his softer side is mischievous.
Listen: Chief Keef, “Can You Be My Friend”
Wiki: No Mountains in Manhattan
Wiki’s No Mountains in Manhattan is made up of dispatches from a New Yorker maneuvering through his community and absorbing his surroundings. Each verse is full of jump cuts, motioning constantly to catch everything in the frame. The raps are jam-packed with the personality of a rush hour subway car. He can stretch out a single paranoid moment or compress an entire philosophy into a few bars, his economical nature and streetwise slick talk a product of his environment. Wiki is a good sport and a dreamer, a savant who found his kingdom in his own backyard.
Listen: Wiki, “Mayor”
Open Mike Eagle: Brick Body Kids Still Daydream
Homes are more than brick and mortar. They are extensions of ourselves, physical and spiritual sanctuaries for our very beings. In this context, gentrification is an act of violence. Open Mike Eagle’s Brick Body Kids Still Daydream examines such violence and its perpetrators, focusing on Chicago’s demolished Robert Taylor Homes, once the largest housing project in America. “They blew up my auntie’s building/Put out her great grandchildren/Who else in America/Deserves to have that feeling,” he raps, seeking some humanity. This is a stunning eulogy for the ghettos, for the families that were uprooted, for the bodies dislodged and disposed.
Listen: Open Mike Eagle, “Legendary Iron Hood”
Lil B: Black Ken
A project seven years in the making, Black Ken is a culmination of several terabytes of music, the full realization of the Based God mythos. It is his long-awaited ode to hip-hop, local and universal, retro and futuristic, all at once. (At one point, he dedicated the mixtape to basically everyone.) Black Ken is one of the handful of Lil B’s musical projects that doesn’t feel like it’s at least somewhat part of an elaborate performance art piece, full of feel-good music and oddball motivational speeches delivered on an endlessly positive platform.
Listen: Lil B, “Global” [ft. iLoveMakonnen]
Drake: More Life
Drake’s world music playlist More Life is kaleidoscopic in nature, finally realizing the promise of VIEWS with a shuffling mix of South African house, dancehall-lite, grime, and pop-rap. The music is more expansive and the roster is more diverse, but there’s still the same Drake beneath the plush sounds and accents: a paranoid star seeking solace, a hopeless romantic self-sabotaging in every relationship he has, a rap king constantly sobered by his own success. “I’ll probably self-destruct if I ever lose, but I never do,” he raps. Within these vibrant tracks, Drake reestablishes his all-world empire while continuing to consider the costs.
Listen: Drake, “Madiba Riddim”
Playboi Carti: Playboi Carti
Playboi Carti’s self-titled debut mixtape is largely a triumph shared with South Carolina beatmaker Pi’erre Bourne, who produced the majority of the project, including the breakout hit “Magnolia.” They make a prime pairing: the best new rap playactor finding room in quirky beats from the most exciting young producer. Carti is a swag rap oddball, one who usually prioritizes his aesthetic over songcraft; his entire rap philosophy can be boiled down to a lyric on “dothatshit!”: “I’d rather not talk about it just do that shit.” Talking is important for most rappers, but Carti can dictate a catchy song on ad-libs alone. Here, he and Bourne deconstruct rap’s time-honored tradition of producer-rapper duos, redefining what exactly their roles are supposed to be.
Listen: Playboi Carti, “Magnolia”
Run the Jewels: Run the Jewels 3
RTJ3 is filled to the brim with righteous indignation and riotous energy. Released on Christmas Day 2016, its messages—and its rage—have carried over into a year dominated by headlines about corruption and abuses of power. The album is a reckoning for the masters, a confrontation of the ruling class. There are fewer tag-teams more formidable than Killer Mike and El-P, and RTJ3 is their manifesto: Hold everyone accountable, deface memorials of tyrants, challenge oppression wherever it may reign—and always stay medicated on the most potent herbal remedies.
Listen: Run the Jewels, “Legend Has It”
Future: HNDRXX
After underwhelming with his self-titled 2017 album, Future evolved again for HNDRXX, which forefronts the tortured but exhilarating R&B of a bitter man still reeling from heartbreak but finally regaining some control. Many songs are petty and dismissive, finding sublimity in spite. “Even if I hit it once, you part of my collection,” he posits on the opener. But just as many moments are enchanting, sleek, and seductive. “I’ll scoop your son up from your baby daddy/From this point on, you don’t have to deal with talkin’,” he sings on “Use Me,” offering a few of the kindest gestures in his entire catalog.
Listen: Future, “Use Me”
Migos: Culture
Since 2013, Migos have pretty much shaped the rap zeitgeist in their image, but the motor-mouthed trio could never capitalize on their influence until the aptly titled Culture. Things started with the chart-topping single “Bad and Boujee,” and the massive uptick in devout followers that resulted helped power what is by far their best album, packed with high-octane glitz raps. They’ve been this wonderful in spurts, but Culture finally turns years of banked cachet into gold.
Listen: Migos, “Bad and Boujee” [ft. Lil Uzi Vert]
JAY-Z: 4:44
4:44 is a legacy album—not only because it deals with the lessons JAY’s parents left him and the fortune he’ll leave his kids, but because it is an act of myth-making in disguise. Canny raps about restoring and preserving a reputation double as smart business moves, while the Brooklyn icon makes teachable moments out of his most public failings. He raps as well as he has this decade, appraising his empire, his mistakes, and what they could have cost him. It’s in the album’s quiet moments, when rap’s greatest winner faces his shortcomings, that we get something truly extraordinary: Not JAY-Z the myth, but JAY-Z the man.
Listen: JAY-Z, “The Story of O.J.”
Tyler, the Creator: Flower Boy
For years, Tyler, the Creator has been trying to get to the root of his isolation in song. He comes closer than ever on Flower Boy, his gorgeous and tender course-correction, which reconciles his rabble-rouser past with personal truths. Leaner and more focused, this is his most disarming and accessible collection of songs: subdued, wistful, permissive, relatable. Flower Boy is personal and complicated, revealing long-withheld thoughts on race and sexuality: “Tell these black kids they can be who they are,” he raps. And within these dazzling songs, he takes his own advice, stepping out into the sun for the first time.
Listen: Tyler, the Creator, “911/Mr. Lonely” [ft. Frank Ocean and Steve Lacy]
Vince Staples: Big Fish Theory
On Big Fish Theory, Vince Staples uses the sounds and textures of electronic music to deconstruct rap stardom. He settles into the nooks of aerodynamic productions that flash and creak, his verses zigzagging and fracturing. The record cuts back on the narration that dictated Summertime ’06 in favor of concision, moving deliberately as he decodes the rap experience from the outside and the inside.
Listen: Vince Staples, “BagBak”
Kendrick Lamar: DAMN.
Through musings on balance, karma, and ego, Kendrick Lamar explores the intersections of divinity and humanity on DAMN. An internal monologue runs throughout, forcing the rapper to examine his place in the world, in his industry, in his community, in his own body, in the next life. Blood and DNA stand in as markers of life force, identity, and heritage—what we get from our ancestors and pass down to our children.
And while Kendrick has always been God-fearing, he’s starting to wonder just how much sinning will cost him here. DAMN. is more a prayer than a sermon, bearing out internal conversations with his conscience. The album is both sacred and secular, boasting Kendrick’s most digestible storytelling—autobiographical in some passages, sprawling in its compositions, yet more laden with gorgeous hooks and melodies than anything he’s made before.
Listen: Kendrick Lamar, “DNA.”
Source URL: https://pitchfork.com/features/lists-and-guides/the-20-best-rap-albums-of-2017/