This is a work to prove that they could do it, and they've done it tenfold.

KD3 keeps Nas in the relevancy conversation because his voice is still impactful, calling to action when some might say he doesn’t need to do this anymore. It’s a lesson in purposeful storytelling and aging with grace.

As the culture is currently enamored with more rhythmic patterns than the meat on the bone, Freddie Gibbs and Madlib have undoubtedly proved they can compete without compromising their composition standards.

The Canadian megastar avoids the pitfalls of cheap, nostalgia bait by earnestly repurposing and breathing life into deep cuts from a bygone era.

With Cadillactica he’s found his stride by taking new steps. K.R.I.T. isn’t slept on, but he’s proven again that he should have a bigger bandwagon by now.

One of the most accomplished releases of the year, You’re Dead! embraces the uncertain, celebrates fear, and induces a meditative consciousness that’s hard to shake after listening.

With its glitchy instrumental palette backing it, Lahai is a serene look to the future where Sampha can be at peace with his memories and can raise his family in a positive environment.

Whereas a lot of listeners might be tempted to ask themselves if ScHoolboy Q’s latest offering was worth the wait, his remarkable growth also suggests that years of experience is perhaps what births the richest music, especially in a word-heavy genre like rap.

Dirty Computer falters along the way with a few weak hooks and some questionable lyrics but at least she was able to wipe out the old Monáe and reboot who she’s truly meant to be--both artistically and personally.

This is a Hip Hop album, complete with the wondrous elements consistent with a broader musical appreciation. And it just might be 9th Wonder's best yet.

Rapsody evolves on this latest album--increasingly comfortable revealing a wide range of personal facets while developing into an apt storyteller.

Much of Blonde sounds more like a minimalist soft rock record with its sparse, isolationist guitars and pianos; little to no drums; and choruses that fade into the rest of Frank’s dense, congested lyrics.

They make poignant soul that’s fresh sounding at all angles. Most importantly, Choose Your Weapon stands on its own as one of the year’s best albums.

We Buy Diabetic Test Strips feels like an accumulation of that gained experience, a moment of breakthrough clarity. Kenny Segal, Messiah Musik, SteeltippedDove, JPEGMAFIA, and Child Actor handle the production, with every beat maker retreading past ideas to create invigorating new ones.

No I.D. and company have helped him make music that’s both uncomfortable and lived-in, and Staples sounds more himself inside of it than ever before.

There aren't any lackluster songs, and even though the lyrics and the rhymes are digestible on the first listen, they get better with more listens.

Monét weaves an instant R&B classic out of empowerment anthems, genuine respect for her soul elders, and an unflappable confidence that can only be admired.

Those looking for an album which actively engages the future of music while remembering the imperfect past has much to enjoy with In Colour.

This is an impressive showcase for his fans.

The theme of newfound optimism opens Beware of the Money with “Nuthin I Can Do Is Wrong.” The DJ Blackpower produced record contains a soothing soul sample from Forrest’s “I Just Want to Love You,” in which MIKE sings along halfway through the opening hook. It’s not hard to imagine a cheeky grin from the esoteric rapper as he raps with radiant pride.

The rhymes and the beats are correct on every song on The Earn, and whenever he speaks against something, he offers an alternative.

It’s not exactly the blockbuster conclusion Nas fans were looking for. Instead, it’s the cliffhanger ending that offers the chance for a reunion in the future.

It’s a harsh listen that’s likely more obscure to casual, Top-40 listeners than R.A.P. Music. That’s too bad for them, because Mike and El-P seemingly unleash every item in their B-boy tool kit this time around.

The result is dangerously addicting and affecting, where modern relatability rests on top of nostalgic production, avoiding the pitfalls of corniness and imitation. Full of soul and life, PinkPantheress’ status as social media’s newest darling is secure, as she crafts a garage dreamland that may just stand the test of time.

Each of the tracks contain replay value, but the standouts besides the aforementioned are the blues-tinged “New Thangs,” “No Window Tints,” and the punchy funk-heavy snares and easy listening jazz keyboards on “Buddy & Sincere.”

The Patience is a rewarding opening chapter, a satisfying burst of fresh air after a period of holding his breath.

Brimming with synth undercurrents, transfluid melodies, and delightfully jarring production shifts, Raven is a transfixing ode to human connection, interpersonal communication, and Black femininity.

In sum, the mysterious Tahliah Barnett has created a devastatingly beautiful and industrial debut.