Stanfield & WTM Present: The Best Albums of the Decade (Vol. 2: 2011)
As the decade keeps drawing to a close, fellow hip-hop scholar WTMTheGeneral and I have been hard at work compiling our lists for what we believe were the best hip hop/rap albums of the decade. Missed your favorite album? Think our list is trash? Disagree with our picks? Tell us and we’ll be sure to explain why you’re wrong. You can check out our picks for 2010 here.
And without further ado, these are our picks for the best rap albums of 2011
10 years after Kanye and Hov joined forces on one of the greatest rap albums of all time (The Blueprint), their worlds collided once more in this grandiose epic; opulent, brash, powerful and perhaps the most deserved claim to the Throne ever made. It may not be the absolute shining jewel in either artists extensive and consistently brilliant discography but goddamn, if it doesn’t do what it set out to do — a testament to the most powerful and talented hip hop figures of the decade prior, a well-deserved celebratory victory lap.
Before he was a global phenomenon and the best rapper alive, Kendrick Lamar was just another kid from Compton, with a long line of gigantic shoes to fill. As we all know, he’s since done that, and more. But in 2011, a relatively unknown Kendrick had everything in the world to prove. Although clearly a product of the music of NWA, DJ Quik,MC Eiht, et al. that raised him, one of the most striking things about Kendrick’s music, perhaps most notably on Section 80, is the reflectivity, the deep introspection in his writing. Kendrick doesn’t only describe his experiences but contextualizes them, challenging the listener to think beyond the music. Its’ that gift that’s propelled Kendrick into the stratosphere since, and it all started here.
A$AP Rocky may not have been the first to pull together formerly disparate regional sonic strains, but probably was the first to do so in such a cohesive and satisfying way. The classic sounds of 90s New York — Rocky’s hometown and upbringing (his first name is Rakim!) forms the common theme that pulls it all together but its stewed in a thick, syrupy DJ-Screw inspired Houston aesthetic. Sprinkle in a little Bone Thugs, OutKast and a gorgeous array of cloudy, spacy, almost desolate instrumentals courtesy of Clams Casino and co. and you have yourself one of the most important precursors to the hip hop made this decade.
In a career marred by difficulties with labels, K.R.I.T. has had an uncharacteristically excellent and consistent discography. Return of 4Eva, released on the heels of his widely acclaimed debut mixtape the year before, might just be the best in his entire catalog. Krit’s smooth, UGK-inspired country flows course though a beautifully soulful soundscape; you can almost hear him thinking out loud, contemplating life as he cruises with the windows down in his Cadillac across the Mississippi countryside.
Danny Brown delivers one of the most unique listening experiences of the year — scratch that, of the decade — on his debut album; the aptly titled XXX. The album is an ode to drugs and destitution, scored by a futuristic high-octane and otherworldly assortment of instrumentals, punctuated by the Detroit oddball’s croaking Ol Dirty Bastard-esque yelps and squawks. It’s bizarre, outlandish, shocking and often deeply personal. It’s also incredibly entertaining. And still stands as one of the best and most interesting albums of the decade.
The heir to the throne that Lil Wayne built was off to a bit of a rough start. A wildly successful debut mixtape coupled with a host of smash singles and guest appearances wasn’t enough to ensure the respect Drizzy so desperately sought. And that was going to be doubly difficult given Drake’s penchant for making music that defied the hyper-aggressive and masculine themes so prevalent in the genre. As we all know, Drake turned that all on its head. Followingly a tepidly received debut album the year prior, Drake dived deeper than ever into the previously impermeable boundaries between rap and R&B. The result was Take Care, an exploration of the emotional and the sensitive, that soared to the top of the charts and turned Drake into the global pop phenomenon he is today.
Chief Keef was 16 years old when he revolutionized hip hop. That’s younger than Nas when he dropped Illmatic. Bang (and its subsequent follow-ups in 2012) built on the sheer brutality and rawness of post-Flockavelli trap by distilling it to its core elements; the rattling hi-hats, the thudding bass, the pulsing rhythms. The young Chicagoan prodigy is a master of the infectious warlike chant and he embraces that aesthetic to the fullest degree on a series of increasingly violent (and terrifying) boats and threats. You’re right there on O-Block, ducking the gunfire, you’re in Sosa’s world; chaotic, violent and unforgiving.
On Covert Coupe, the 2011 collaboration effort between a fired-up Spitta and the now legendary beatmaker, Alchemist’s spaced-out classic rock and soul-inspired instrumentals tangle together into hazy smog that settles into your brain like smoke in a hotboxed vintage car. Curren$y’s sitting next to you — blazed out of his mind, rhythmically drumming his fingers on the dashboard as he narrates a series of hilariously written stories of weed, women and classic rims — the kinds found on many a coupe style, supped up car. Make sure you have your Vizine handy before you press play.
