Nigel Washington

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Overlooked Hip-Hop and R&B Albums of 2018

Here’s something no other media outlet writing about 2018’s year of music will tell you: there was a ton of music released this year; so much that a lot of us didn’t listen to all of it. Now that we got that out the way, this year’s buffet line of great Hip-Hop and R&B albums means there were a ton of projects that didn’t even get the attention they deserved to be labeled as underrated or overrated. They were simply overlooked, shadowed by bigger names and the Twitter chatter that surrounded those projects. There weren't enough seats at the cool album’s table for these to join the conversation, and I’m here to give those albums the shine they deserve. These are true gems that were slept on throughout the year.


Stimulator Jones is the breath of fresh air we need in R&B. His sound injects classic 80s and 90s R&B, funk and disco nostalgia to a scene dominated by melancholic and minimalist moods inspired by Frank Ocean and The Weeknd. Instead of drowning in dark sorrow of sad love stories, EWMT glistens with sparkling synths and smooth, dance-inducing melodies. Take SVW’s “Weak,” Keith Sweats’ “Right and Wrong,” New Edition’s “If It Isn’t Right,” and Patrice Rushen’s “Remind Me,” put it in a pan, drizzle it with a bit of hip-hop (yep, hip-hop), and put it in the oven for 350 degrees for 30-45 minutes. What you’ll pull out is Exotic Worlds and Masterful Treasures. Just a taste of it will make you want to cry, dance, have sex, get high or get drunk. Make sure you come back for seconds--there’s plenty to go around.

New York-native Cavalier moved to New Orleans and combined the inspirations he gained from those creative hotbeds to create Private Stock, an inspirational record with the kind of depth, range, and storytelling that few artists have been able to capture this year. The ones that have, like Tierra Whack or J.Cole, are at the top of most people's albums of the year lists. Private Stock won’t crack any of those, but it should. Cavalier raps with passion, energy and a smoothness that makes the serious issues he’s discussing in his lyrics (Systemic racism and gentrification, just to name a few) feel so familiar it doesn’t even surprise him anymore. He does it all behind relaxing jazz-influenced beats with stuttering drum patterns and felicitous background vocals. Slide Private Stock next to albums like KOD, Noname’s Room 25, and Whack World with ease.

21 Savage rocked a hockey mask while holding a double cup on his 2016 mixtape Slaughter King. Back then 21 was street horror personified, and now that he's drifted to a friendlier ambiance with more colorful album covers, he’s handed the torch to his cousin—Zone 6’s Young Nudy. A red-eyed trappin’ Chucky doll grinning with blood on his teeth and fresh gun smoke billowing from his Glock (with an extended clip, of course) is the cover of Nudy’s Slime Ball 3, an overlooked tape even though it only dropped a little more than a month ago as of this writing. Nudy threatens violence in the most pleasant tone, shifting between a monotone rapping style reminiscent of 21 Savage and a sing-songy style that sounds like Future without the autotune. He does it all behind menacing beats that feel like Jason Voorhees works on Fruity Loops when he’s not busy murdering high school kids in the woods. The lyrical content is what you want to hear from an East Atlanta trapper, touching on every level of street shit you can imagine. If you weren't paying attention to Young Nudy this year, make sure you do it when the years change.

Dear Annie can do a lot of things. It’s a fun and quirky album that’s sad and nerdy and goofy and serious at the same time. Ireland-born Rejjie Snow raps like he’s in a trance, never shifting to high or low from his base tone. But don’t let the deadpan voice fool you. Tucked inside are lyrics about a myriad of things including, but not limited to: slight flexing, drugs, mental health, and love. Rejjie uses that voice to jump fences surrounding so many topics it can be hard to follow, but pulls at every possible emotional heartstring available. Behind that are beats and productions and little skits that give life to an otherwise deadpan voice. The moods on Dear Annie skips around from woozy lo-fi rap to colorful dance records. Rejjie’s versatility and unique sound should have gotten more attention this year.

I don’t know why Khadijah Bonet is so slept on. She’s brilliant. Bonet has all the qualities for a great R&B career, and Queenchild displays all of it. The album's stories and moods change like each chapter in a book. Bonet tackles untimely and unfortunate love ("Another Time Love"), manipulation in relationships (“Delphine”), and searching for internal happiness (“Joy”) in ways not typically presented in music today. Queenchild is Kadhja Bonet playing Maria in the “Sound of Music.” We gather around her, kids waiting to hear what she teaches us. But instead of a Do-Re-Mi-Fi-Sol singing lesson, Kadhja relaxes on a field of lush instrumentation and recites adult stories in a soft, soothing voice. She's patient, giving us enough to know her direction without giving too much to tell us the answer moral. Each new tale is packed with a new lesson to take with you on your way home. Listening is worth the time.



To hear some of the music from these albums and other songs from albums that didn’t make the cut, check out my playlist I created on Tidal and Apple Music (Sorry, Spotify people.)