The LP comes up short in delivering songs that standout amongst his peers. For the most part, Love Sick isn’t going to move the needle for Toliver. Those that were fans before will like this, while others that are apprehensive about him probably won’t start liking him now.

Maintaining its cohesion while avoiding monotony, Nudy’s latest is at once chill and animated — an extravagant adventure that’s as controlled as it is fun.

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

Girl In The Half Pearl emits confidence despite being out of bounds for the average musically unconscious listener. Liv.e makes it clear she’s not here for external approval.

Let’s Start Here. is exciting at the first listen because the style is new to Lil Yachty himself. Alas, the shiny sheen of new experiences tends to dull over time and with repetition.

The rhythmic excellence of producer RIOTUSA and Ice Spice comes to a peak on “Actin A Smoochie.”

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 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 peaks on SOS, (“Used,” “Smoking on my Ex Pack,” and “Forgiveless”) find SZA sounding refreshingly comfortable rapping over gritty, hazy, and grimy productions.

Component System with the Auto Reverse is no landmark of rap music, but it is rock solid, and contains enough pearls of wisdom and displays of swagger to justify Open Mike Eagle’s endless tenure.

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.

One of Cudi’s most digestible albums in a long time. The songs are equal parts catchy, meaningful and galaxy-brain without taking more than 45 minutes altogether.

For better or worse, at an overwhelming 23 tracks, It’s Only Me is more of a playlist experience than a concise and focused album, an endless stream with occasional stylistic flourishes but a mostly consistent energy.

The realization of internet dream collaboration chatter, where the result is better than fantasy.

A vulnerable, sexy, and fun record, Age/Sex/Location is a fitting eye-roll at the R&B is dead debate.

Offset or no Offset, Quavo and Takeoff’s stylistic DNA holds steady. It’s home-grown. It’s theirs, and it’s as potent as ever.

It’s quite good, and a good Freddie Gibbs album is an already high standard to match.

Demons Protected By Angels alludes to an artist self-aware enough to acknowledge his flaws, but the passivity of his music suggests he’d rather stew in the toxicity than work through it.

JID raps like a Harlem Globetrotter on The Forever Story; the skills are there, it’s littered with flashy displays of technique and it sounds better than fine most of the time. But there’s nothing on the line: at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter who wins the game.

Those who are less dedicated to the soul-trap genre might find the hour-long, 24-track album a test of their aural endurance. Beautiful Mind shows every element that contributed to Wave’s rapid ascent to the top of his genre: the interplay between his vocals and verse; the bitter honesty with which he describes his early life experiences; and his skill for turning any sample – no matter how well-known – into his own anthemic trap-soul style.

Gemini Rights is a coming of age album where Lacy asserts that whatever journey he’s been on, it’s clear he now knows who he wants to become.

Although You Still Here, Ho? doesn’t boast as many catchy hits as its predecessor, Flo Milli’s studio debut still finds success by exploring new genres. Contrary to the record’s cohesiveness, each track is unpredictably experimental in sound and style when compared to Flo Milli’s previous work.

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

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

On Traumazine, Meg recaptures her narrative, sound and essence, ready to swing into the next chapter of her life.

30 tracks is just indigestible and frankly unacceptable, especially with a stark lack of variety. Perhaps it’s a streaming/algorithm strategy or maybe even a way to fulfill his contract with Atlantic Records in attempts to leave the label early; either way The Last Slimeto can’t be enjoyed as a full “project” but instead a half dozen songs scattered across playlists that have the same album cover.

While Cheat Codes sometimes walks the tight-rope of being another installment in the Streams of Thought series, it’s still a lesson in supreme lyricism and pristine production that should have any aspiring MC/producer combo aspiring to get on their level.

An indistinct retread of his past work that falters further under self importance and desire for ambition that falls flat.