Although those untargeted croons and messy arrangements don’t allow ! to be a perfect album nor Trippie’s best work, the album is definitely worth a stream for listeners already sold on today’s genre-bending landscape.

There’s plenty of substance peppered in, but listeners will have to skip around to find it.

Blue Slide Park doesn't do anything to damage Mac's current status in the game, but it also doesn't do much to raise it.

In attempting to recreate his peak, he offers some familiar flows but mostly unimpressive lyrics that lean more toward grown-up nursery rhymes than his catchy, skillful couplets of days past.

This project is simply too long. The songs themselves are actually quite good in their own unique way but it’s difficult for anyone to jump around a 25-track album and get the most out of it. The Mansion would have been better off as a collection of mini condos.

The protocol for new DJ Khaled albums is as follows: expect nothing, delight in finding a few songs which clear that floor-high bar, tell your friends that Khaled is back, and forget about it for the rest of your life. His most recent effort, Khaled Khaled, falls directly in line with the rest of the world’s most profitable yet forgettable discography.

When you factor in all its dexterity, randomness and overall generality, it’s hard to truly believe NASIR was the album he had been cerebrally building these past six years. No, this isn’t “grown man Hip Hop” to bring balance back to whatever the younger generation of mainstream rappers are doing at the moment; nor will it ever reside in the upper echelon of the living legend’s catalog. It is, however, imperfect fine art.

Indicud is an ambitious project that Kid Cudi took a blind shot at, and while by no means does he completely exemplify his immortal identity, he certainly makes a compelling case nonetheless.

On the surface, it’s an overwhelmingly average album, and if you were to strip away all the unnecessary intermissions and segue ways, it’d probably venture into plus territory. As it is, however, it’s a futuristic skyscraper of an album that lacks the foundation to keep from collapsing, and the more you buy into his staggering concept, the more likely you are to come away disappointed.

Gems are few and far between on The Lost Tapes 2. Nasir Jones mostly sounds uninspired and distracted throughout the 16 tracks, which begs the question: why even release these previously hidden records to begin with?

Free Spirit isn’t an outright failure. For it to be a failure, Khalid would have to at least take a few risks.

Doggumentary isn't a frustrating listen because of shortcomings, as many of them that there are; it's frustrating because there are some real glimpses of late-career genius on it that Snoop continues to neglect.

With tracks like "15 Minutes" to slow things down for those romantic moments, and an upbeat song such as "All Said And Done" to keep things moving along at a decent pace, Jamie Foxx's LP is a pleasant addition to the current R&B landscape.

Because of QC’s careful curation of minimal features per track, the 36-song project feels more like Quality Control on shuffle than a compilation — which is a good thing but misses the mark on creating an album in the purest sense.

It’s a tepid set of songs that will undoubtedly satisfy his growing fanbase and, if lucky, make a run with the right program directors. For the rest of us, and not by design, Winter & The Wolves leaves you more than a bit cold.

His knack for personal lyricism over melodramatic production makes his latest album, The Search, an impactful listening experience and validation for the aforementioned comparison.

There are no surprises here, no growth shown, but the one thing worth crediting to Gucci and Waka is their consistency – the audience will know what to expect, and as long as that is all that they expect, their expectations will be fulfilled.

Earworms aside, some songs are merely second-rate homages. ... 7 does show some promising directions for the meme maestro.

Redman Presents...Reggie isn't near Mr. Noble's best work, but fans would be remised to turn their nose to the project. When he is in his element, he spits harder, and flows better than any of his peers.

While there are plenty of people who are able to seamlessly blend their preferred musical genre with Hip Hop (Machine Gun Kelly, Travis Barker, Billy Ray Cyrus), Ed Sheeran isn’t one of them. And because he spent the whole album trying too hard, it falls flat, overall.

The most glaring issue with No Love Lost is the truly terrible production featured throughout.

At 15 tracks, Heart Blanche is not much longer than 2010’s The Lady Killer and noticeably shorter than his first two albums, which both had no less than 18 tracks. However, sequencing is the heart of any album and Heart Blanche palpitates from its redundancy.

Only traces of Lupe Fiasco's greatness are present on Lasers, and even then he sounds less focused.

What makes 3 listenable in its darkest moments is the production, where P often struggles to sound comfortable.

No, his music isn't appropriate for every situation, but when T-Pain is what you're in the mood for, there's still no better T-Pain than T-Pain.

While Suffering From Success has all of the coherency one would assume comes from locking down the A-Room of one of Cash Money Records’ studios, DJ Khaled offers none of the earmarks which have previously separated his collections from everyone else’s.

On Khalifa, there isn’t much that raises nor lowers Wiz’s stock and after a couple more play throughs the album comes across as fairly average.

The album slightly suffers from copycat syndrome with "Initiation" being the latest in Hip Hop's long line of Lex Luger replications (guest starring Lola Monroe, Taylor Gang's Nicki Minaj soundalike) and "Remember You" following the trend of working with drug chic singer The Weeknd, but Wiz Khalifa mostly succeeds at occupying his own comfortable lane.

It may take more than one sitting to get through it, but anyone who dives in as fan will discover there are plenty of contact highs to be had.

Iggy Azalea’s The New Classic aims high, but ultimately falls flat.

While she’s making a valiant effort to mimic a lot of the mainstream rap currently infiltrating the airwaves, it’s going to be challenging for people to not immediately dismiss her as an unwelcome gimmick. That’s not to say the 15-year-old doesn’t have an arsenal of slick jabs ready to go. Much like her fiery personality, Bhad Bhabie’s song lyrics exude healthy doses of attitude toward anyone who tries to stand in her way.

Teezo’s debut wants to convince you that he’s this generation’s ODB, but really, he’s closer to a zanier Kid Cudi, but without the influence. His beats, while eclectic to some degree, feel like a minor subversion of the indie-rock-rap crossover that’s become increasingly popular. His lyrics remain juvenile at best with hints of maturity sporadically hidden in the deeper cuts.

He should listen to Rise of an Empire more closely, though: He may be part of an empire now, but it’s looking more and more like Rome in decline.

In a business where artists come and go with quickness, Flo has managed to remain relevant. Only One Flo will only strengthen Flo's relevance, but it will never be mistaken for a solid piece of art.

Most of the songs on Full Speed are catchy in their own right, but on the heels of tracks that sound so much alike just now seeing their expiration on radio, the feeling is mixed at best.

With his debut album he's revealed himself as bare and buffoonish.

This 25-song compilation renders itself as a gift to the die-hard X fans that are rightfully craving anything new from the late rapper – even if it’s simply lo-fi humming over baselines for a hot second.

Excuse My French comes off as extremely formulaic.

It’s disappointing no standalone soundbed reaches the hypnotic levels of Sean’s “Bounce Back” instant classic, but there’s still a tremendous amount of experimentation worth noting throughout the 10-song ultimate misfire. ... Sean spends a ridiculous amount of time skeeting on tracks with no filter on the filler.

No Boys Allowed doesn't match its polished predecessor success a whole project. The songwriting feels more in line with her R&B/Pop peers than anything else.

Wild Ones is an unfilfilling [sic] and detached listen.

Jackson's progressiveness and laser-aimed focus on perfection was always the foundation of everything he ever did and resonated through every song he ever made....Given the patch-work necessary to piece Michael together posthumously, it's impossible to imagine that this is a collection of songs Michael intended to deliver.

NAV’s biggest problem is that he doesn’t provide anything new with his music other than another generic serving of NAV.

While the misses hold Blacc Hollywood back from being great, Wiz still reminds listeners that regardless of what they’re looking for, he’s capable of providing.

The album skips along predictably and offers nothing much outside of Rozay’s usual narrative.

This album should have and could have been as epic as it seems Kanye’s dive into his faith has been. All in all, the project is a decent affair that falls short of its potential.

His immersion in Rastafarianism has produced a middling album, at best.

There are times where Kanye recaptures the magic of his golden years. ... But there just isn’t enough good here to look past the flaws. The final result is a collection of songs with little binding energy other than a vague Gospel through line, which runs across the tracklist — chaotic like The Life Of Pablo but devoid of the magic.

Scattershot as the features may be, Drake still opts to tackle the majority of the album on his own, which have some highlights. “Away From Home” is Drake at his best, offering the only real glimpse into maturity.

Though The DeAndre's Way only has 10 tracks, it feels as if it has four or five too many.

When listening to this record, there isn’t much to enjoy or appreciate. It’s a struggle to sit through, partly because it reads like the ramblings of an ex-genius turned affectless braggart, but mostly because it’s monotonous and unimaginative.

Aside from a few moments where his trademark live-wire energy shines through, Blockbusta tries too hard to capture the charts and new fans alike, relegating its headliner’s usually dominant personality to second fiddle.

It’s the perfect type of album to have playing in the background at your local Foot Locker and as long as it’s getting streamed somewhere, somehow by someone, NAV will likely be happy.

By Quality Control’s standards, Nuthin’ 2 Prove is a brisk listen-through as it clocks in at just over 45 minutes, but it certainly feels as bloated as recent projects from Migos and Quavo’s solo album.

Much like Brass Knuckles before it, 5.0 might just be another forgettable release from the St. Lunatic.

All in all, Vultures 1 doesn’t move the needle for Kanye West — or Ty Dolla $ign, for that matter. Listeners, fans, haters and hopefuls will be in the same place they were before the album dropped: confused, disappointed, but holding onto the idea that the Kanye we all fell in love with can still deliver undeniably good music that is worth defending.

It’s hard to blame B.o.B. for wanting to acclimate himself to a different scene. But the startling lack of creativity he exercises in doing so makes Underground Luxury easy to write off, and the duality that once powered crossover appeal is now hard to detect.

Ironically, though, the high points on the album are the songs that sound like old JT. This isn’t to say the new creative path he’s on won’t sprout new favorites for new fans and new generations, but for longtime fans, it’s hard to see how this will have any replay value.

DS4EVER is proof he presumably won’t allow stardom to make him complacent, balancing improvements in song topics and technical skill, even if the drip talk has gone stale.

For the casual Weezy fan (one that hears the music but doesn't listen), I Am Not a Human Being II is perfect mindless fun. However, for those who expected more from this repeatedly delayed effort, Wayne may have to hop in his spaceship and try again.

Jack Harlow’s sophomore effort was meant as a testament to his passion for the game but instead, it translates into a monotonous record that often plays out like a direct contradiction to what he’s claimed — and that contradiction is ultimately damning.

Lil Boat 2 is a simply a weird musical vacation that sets sail into the strange mind of the impactful red-haired youngster.

While Em’s bullheaded decision to experiment with the flow should be heartily respected, it doesn’t shroud the fact that he’s not charting any new territory, at least topically. But it’s largely the retreads of past glory where he hits stride the hardest.

WZRD's strengths are rooted in Kid Cudi's vocal tone, one that is gripping and melodic despite his quite limited singing ability.

His sexual callousness wears off quickly, and what listeners are left with is a release better fit for a Ramada Inn than a Four Seasons.

Equipped with drowsy articulation tinged with a melodic pinch of raspiness, Xan is far from an astute lyricist but isn’t actually a slouch on the mic in terms of flow and rhyme schemes.

Altogether a worthwhile concept that once deserved to see the light of day, excessive filler and intermissions dull the shine of a release should have been actualized while the public demand for Frank White vocals was greater.

The rawness of Kanye West’s current existence manifests in music that actually means something, which is the first time we’ve been able to say that about a Kanye album in some time.

Simply put, this album suffers from Beyonce syndrome--it does nothing to further the group's catalogue. Last time around, the Black Eyed Peas were exploring new territory, and the results were contagious. Now, it seems as though the group, particularly will.i.am, is stuck on auto-pilot.

There’s no doubt that this project will have traction with some listeners, but that will based on the names involved and not the quality control (or lack thereof) presented.

Fan of a Fan reads like a mimicking of that, missing a key ingredient in the Pop-Rap alchemy it takes to create something truly ingenius and infectious.

A purported concept album, The Death of Slim Shady (Coup de Grâce) is in fact a disjointed and incoherent clump of non-sequiturs, loosely held together by infantile wordplay, forced goading and desperate attempts at one final hurrah in celebration of a past that seems suspiciously indistinguishable from the present.

Unfortunately, Authentic suffers the same fate as LL’s other late-career missteps: too many features and a superficial brand of R&B bog down another release from one of rap’s earliest superstars.

Other than polished vocals and drastically better mixing, Lil Pump sounds the exact same as he did when he dropped Lil Pump; zooted on Xans, lean, and without a care in the world. The rapping is simple, the concepts are easy to grasp as he pretty much gets straight to the point on all 16 tracks (said point being the drugs and money he bathes in excessively).

The Gold Album is underscored by its poor creative choices.

On a sonic level, much of this album is strong but the identity and continuity are lackluster.

It’s an unexpectedly, confusingly good collection of rap songs.

Nobody expected Azalea to come back super talented and with an entirely new shtick. Nonetheless, In My Defense could have been a tad bit more introspective or at the very least, fun.

In its own perverse way, Vultures 2 is emblematic of 2024 — it is loud, brash, utterly devoid of substance and almost certain to be lauded as Kanye West’s latest masterpiece by his rabid legions of stans.

Although songs like “BEBE” kindly pay tribute to 6ix9ine’s Puerto Rican roots, his rapping quickly proves to be tolerable in tiny, almost microscopic doses, while the album closer “DUMMY” is like a carbon copy of the homogenized sound currently infiltrating mainstream rap.

Overall, Fortune further indicates a changing of the guard in urban music, as Chris Brown's feel good songs find his most staunch advocates willing to overlook his lowered standards of musical content.

Short but sweet, Disrupted Ads chalks up another win towards Oh No's already prolific legacy as one of the present underground's consistently effective studio rats.

The sequel to his 2018 two-pack ranges from “just OK, I guess” to “pretty damn impressive” — in a smooth 3-song sonic gradient.

The Love Album is at its best when Diddy creatively assembles unexpected collaborations, chooses inspired beats, and lets his co-stars lead the show.