30. El-P — I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead (2007)
The migraine mid-point between Nine Inch Nails and the Bomb Squad. Math rap. Bombs + Nails = the sort of weapon built by suicide squads intent on creating obscene carnage. If last time, the damage was fantastic, now it’s fatal. El-P’s masterpiece is both explicit and subtle, political and apolitical—a snarling, maladjusted multi-tentacled beast capable of belting you in the stomach and picking your pocket in one foul swoop.
Like all geniuses, Jamie Meline has an attitude problem, a natural abrasiveness addled by a half-decade on the sidelines watching the last vapors of American dream dissipate. Those were schizophrenic times, hazily recalled in these hamstrung days of lost swagger and partially regained pride. If you ever forget what it felt like during that tabloid torpor of shaved Spears heads and Schiavo, Abu Ghraib and Ashcroft, listen to I’ll Sleep When You’re Dead. Not only did El-P mainline the collective unconscious, he simultaneously established an entirely new paradigm for Five-Borough rap.
While his peers tried to re-create the New York sound, El-P tried to capture what the city sounds like: jackhammers, car alarms, horns and hangovers, the voices of everyone from Cat Power, to TV on the Radio, to Trent Reznor himself, disguised and warped like a cocaine nightmare. When the self-professed “Brooklyn baby / Waterlocked, walkin’ nervous” declared that his “gonzomatic fear was turning him Hunter S. Thompson,” he spoke for everyone who understood the idea that it isn’t paranoia when they’re really out to get you. —Jeff Weiss
MP3: El-P–“Poisenville Kids Reprise/No Wins (This Must Be Our Time)
29. Wale — The Mixtape About Nothing (2008)
Yeah, that new Discovery album would be absolutely worthless if it didn’t provide a death blow to Sasha Frere-Jones’ well-intentioned but completely dubious complaint about how indie rock can only benefit from adopting African-American styles of music. Of course, the most obvious response was every bit as dubious, if not well-intentioned: shouldn’t it be a two-way street? Well, that’s how we ended up with XXL Freshman 10 Rap, wherein rappers who might otherwise be worth a shit co-opted everything entitled and annoying about indie rock culture, ending up with a microgenre that became a joke even compared to the likes of hip-house, horrorcore, ringtone rap and intimate crunk. At least those had some kind of commercial viability, however short-lived.
In that context, it’s all the more amazing that Wale’s Mixtape About Nothing came from this scene—where his peers had their heads firmly shoved up their ass, Wale was intelligent, thoughtful and coherent. Instead of jacking for beats by getting his fingers dusty in Stereogum’s year-end list, he found inspiration in mid-90’s East Coast knock, DC electro and trap beats, essentially distilling the essence of being a 21st century rap fan with no qualms about region recognition. Of course, a trail of collaborations with the likes of 9th Wonder, Lady Gaga and TV On The Radio is worrying to everyone hoping he ends up making a non-shitty record on Interscope, but as is, The Mixtape About Nothing at least made it feel like suffering through Charles Hamilton and Asher Roth was worth it at some point. —Ian Cohen
MP3: Wale-“The Kramer”
28. The Game — The Documentary (2005)
Imagine the 2000 Portland Trailblazers winning three championships in a row instead of the Lakers or the 2004 Yankees; a team where the most obscure everyday player was Miguel Cairo, steamrolling the Red Sox and St. Louis Cardinals for their 27th championship.Dr. Dre and 50 Cent literally bought themselves a championship when constructing The Documentary for Jayceon Taylor. This album needs to be held in a CD case for the rest of its existence; the liner notes make the comparisons to the Jailblazers and George Steinbrenner apt.Beats by:
- Dr. Dre
- Scott Storch
- Just Blaze
- Timbaland
- Kanye West
- Cool & Dre
- Havoc
- Hi-Tek
- Buckwild
- Mr. Porter
- Eminem
- Focus
- Needlz
Read that list again.For a newcomer who had a non-descript flow, an addiction to name dropping almost every entertainer in the business, and a fetish for lyrically placing himself in the lead roles of Boyz N Da Hood and Menace II Society, The Game hit the Powerball. Timbaland and Kanye supplied two of the heaviest bangers of their careers (“Put You On the Game”, “Dreams”). 50 Cent unveiled the most realistic depiction of his childhood ever for 20 bars on “Hate it or Love It.” And Just Blaze detonated two pipe bombs that were strictly album cuts (“Church for Thugs”, “No More Fun and Games”).Some guys release great albums on a whim or by making the right material at the right time. The Game’s The Documentary is the most non-organic classic hip hop LP arguably ever. Anti-Illmatic in its inception, pro-Michael Bay in its content and focus group testing. It’s hip hop’s “We Are the World” and The Game is Dan Akroyd in the back row of the video, just happy to be in the same room as Steve Perry, Cyndi Lauper, and Hall & Oates.—Zilla Rocca
MP3: The Game ft. 50 Cent-“Hate it or Love it”
27. Edan — Beauty and the Beat (2005)
Edan Portnoy had one goal while crafting his second album: to “put Syd Barrett’s face on Biz Markie’s body” with “Kool G Rap’s brain”. The Boston-born producer/rapper pulled samples of psychedelic rock, 60s pop, and garage rock through the filter of late 80s hip hop to shape Beauty and the Beat’s distinctive sound.
Edan’s flow is vaguely reminiscent of a young LL or G Rap, but his golden age influences become more evident on specific tracks. Bronx pioneer Percee P pops up on battle rap seminar “Torture Chamber”, ferociously ripping through the churning guitars of Pink Floyd’s “On The Run”. “Fumbling Over Words That Rhyme” is a history lesson on the evolution of the emcee, from Cold Crush to Nas. “The Science of the Two” pairs Edan with fellow Bostonian Insight as the two trade lines over murder mystery organs that mutate into a slowed-down flip of ESG’s “UFO”. Edan strings together an impressive array of band names over the scorching guitars of “Rock N Roll”, making him probably the first rapper to mention the 13th Floor Elevators and the Pretty Things in his rhymes. He even acknowledges his psych-rap predecessors on “I See Colours”, confessing to copping the same loop Prince Paul used for “Open Your Mouth”.
The genius of Beauty and the Beat lies in its knack for framing psychedelic rock conventions in a hip-hop context. “Smile” spills over with feedback, as a backwards guitar loop accompanies Edan’s tale of a troubled musical visionary. “Making Planets” samples L.A. garage/psych band The Music Machine’s version of “Hey Joe”, which morphs into a forceful blues rock riff for Mr. Lif’s fierce guest verse. Beauty and the Beat’s quality transcends accusations of gimmickry; Edan’s fusion of 60s psychedelia and 80s hip hop is not only creative, it’s eminently listenable. Who knew rock and roll could hip hop like this?—Aaron Matthews
MP3: Edan-“Beauty”
26. OutKast — Speakerboxxx/The Love Below (2003)
Other OutKast albums may be lyrically more inventive (Aquemini) or may have spawned more hits (Stankonia), but no OutKast album better reflects the dichotomy within the band itself. Big Boi and Andre 3000, while friends and partners, are vastly different, and these two solo-albums-sold-together, were the perfect mechanism to celebrate those differences.Big Boi’s Speakerboxxx featured witty tales of street life, dressing smart, and partying, with amazing hits like “The Way You Move,” “Bowtie,” and “Church.”
Dre’s album was more experimental, offering only one monster single (“Hey Ya”) to conventional OutKast fans. In fact, Andre produced Kelis’ “Millionaire” and Gwen Stefani’s “Long Way to Go” for The Love Below, but chose not to include these top 40 hits.The result was a moody, wild ride through Andre’s consistently off-beat imagination.Together, these albums showcase the power of hip hop to create both traditional “songs” and genre-crossing compositions. I can’t think of any band that has ever done this better.—Ekko
25. Ghostface Killah — The Pretty Toney Album (2004)
One of the great ironies of Ghostface Killah’s chameleonic solo career is the more he actively chased commercial success, the more fervently it eluded him. The Pretty Toney Album is Ghost’s most brazenly commercial move of his career and inversely, it’s also an album that decidedly sold plastic wood grain numbers. Acknowledging this truth does not mean that the Pretty Toney Album is a bad record. Far from it. Dennis Coles simply does not make anything less than classic records and Pretty Toney is no different. The album’s pores are flush with the type of hot buttered soulful goodness that we’ve come to expect from Ghost.
Pretty Toney is like the classic R&B records that provide the lush samples throughout the album. It is dripping with sex and sweetness but with an urban grit and grime alluding to the turmoil of the times that birthed it. The album somehow makes room for the dance club assault of Missy Elliott on “Tush”, Ghost’s mournful crooning over a classic interpretation of the Delfonic’s “La La Means I Love You” on “Holla”, and the unrelenting, how-they-do-that pyrotechnics of Jadakiss-assisted “Run.” Each of these seem perfectly at home on this fascinating record. It’s your move, Jay-Z. —B.J. “The Good Doctor Zeus” Steiner
MP3: Ghostface Killah ft. Jadakiss-“Run”
Elusive as he may be, MF DOOM can always be counted on to drop a cohesive project, and MM..Food is no exception. Saturated by a spice rack selection of jazz, rock and soul samples, choppy drum breaks, quirky cartoon snippets and other oddball additions, MM..Food is soufflé for the alternative rap addict’s aural taste buds. Fusing the realms of geekdom and purist hip hop, DOOM makes nerd rap cool with his witty lyricism and added zest of boom bap. Though lacking in energetic delivery, DOOM’s clever wordplay nevertheless offers glimpses of comic genius throughout. Unlike most new-gen rap records, which are served as buffet tables with pick-and-choose track selections, MM..Food is enjoyed best in one sitting—a full course meal if you will—fast-forward button unnecessary.—Ivan Rott
MP3: MF Doom-“Kookies”
23. The Roots — Game Theory (2006)
The Roots talked a lot of shit after Things Fall Apart without backing it up. They’d seen their base drop out beneath them and their diehards move on to whiter and powdery pastures. When they finally got around to releasing Phrenology it triggered one of the most pervasive “meh”s ever, and it really didn’t help when they released 2004’s The Tipping Point—an album as lifeless, schizophrenic and unfocused as its predecessor.
But Game Theory was an absolute triumph. By revisiting the relentless tenacity and claustrophobic desperation of Illadelph Halflife, the Roots delivered their finest work since, well, Illadelph Halflife.There’s a gritty energy to Game Theory, a focus and sonic scope that’s as far away from the lush Fender Rhodes infested neo-soul as one could possibly hope for. Guitars and strings swell around cascading keyboards, while ?uestlove’s drums (finally) pop with an urgency he’d never quite been able to capture before. Black Thought, meanwhile, remained the prototypical underrated rapper of his time, a real MC whose mastery of rap’s technical skills—flow, breath control, word choice—had been overshadowed by the valid sentiment he had little to no discernible personality or charisma.
On Game Theory, however, Thought sounded completely rejuvenated, hungry for the first time in a decade, and no longer rhyming for the sake of rhyming.The Roots got playful (“Baby”), political (“False Media), and Beck-y (“Living in the New World”). They were still a little preachy about what is and isn’t “the real” (“Don’t Feel Right”), but still willing to let Peedi Peedi rip the shit out of “Long Time Comin.” And while the loss of J. Dilla served as explicit inspiration for the record’s eight-minute sonic exploration, “Can’t Stop This,” Game Theory’s loose playing, but painstaking attention to atmosphere was the true Jay-Dee tribute. With Game Theory, The Roots finally delivered on nearly every once-broken promise. —Barry Schwartz
MP3: The Roots ft. Peedi Peedi-“Long Time Coming”
22. M.O.P. — Warriorz (2000)
Warriorz was the last great boom bap rap album. And not boom bap in the modernized, unquantized hand clap and filtered bassline, adult contemporary for the aging backpacker definition, but boom bap as in the sound of skulls crushed between pavement and Timberlands. The production, handled primarily by DJ Premier and Fame himself, was vintage Brooklyn headphone music. Fame and Danz, too, had fully evolved into great rappers beyond just their rowdy reps. They were funny, nostalgic and unforgiving.—Andrew Noz
MP3: M.O.P.-“Cold as Ice”
21. Common — Like Water for Chocolate (2000)
Recorded during the same sessions as D’Angelo’s Voodoo and Erykah Badu’s Mama’s Gun; Common’s Like Water for Chocolate’s very creation can be viewed as a statement. Openly rejecting gangsta bravado and all-digital production, the album instead found inspiration in the history of black music and the revolutionary politics of the civil rights movement, marking itself as a consciously mature and intellectual alternative to the chart toppers of its era. With Common rapping about love, freedom and the state of the black community,
Like Water for Chocolate earned the Chicago emcee his first taste of mainstream success even as it alienated those who criticized the record as “soft” and lacking the grit of previous releases. Ten years later however, Like Water for Chocolate reveals itself to be a vital testament to one of the decade’s most progressive musical collectives.At the album’s heart lie the grooves of James “Dilla” Yancey, then credited as Jay Dee.
Building on the sparse funk and offbeat sampling of the then-delayed Fantastic Vol. 2, Dilla provided the core of the album’s production, lacing the project with heavy bass, thick drums and laid-back loops. From there, collaborators including ?uestlove, James Poyser, D’Angelo and Kariem Riggins, under the banner of the Soulquarians, would embellish the tracks with added percussion and instrumentation, giving the album a live, organic sound then uncommon to underground hip hop. The high-minded musicality of this collective, along with Common’s increasingly worldly concerns proved that hip hop could age gracefully without losing its edge or dynamic energy. Stretching far beyond the genre’s minimalist roots, the crew pushed the boundaries of what was thought possible in rap musically while still remaining committed to the uncompromising ideology of their predecessors. Though conceived in opposition to the trends of its day, Like Water for Chocolate remains vital not because of what it isn’t but because of the hip hop, funk, jazz, soul, and afrobeat that it is. —Sach O
MP3: Common-“Dooin’ It”
