The Game: 1992
The first half of 1992 pays homage to the golden years of gangsta rap. It’s stuffed with ’80s and ’90s watermarks like The D.O.C.’s “It’s Funky Enough” (sampled on “Bompton”), Ice-T’s “Colors” (“True Colors”), Wu-Tang Clan’s “C.R.E.A.M.” (“I Grew Up on Wu-Tang”), and, surprisingly, Soul II Soul’s “Back to Life” (“However Do You Want It”). The Game imagines himself driving a white Bronco, only to declare “Fck Orange Juice” (as in O.J. Simpson), and he thrills with vivid descriptions of life in Compton during the crack wars. The second half brings The Game back to the present day. He raps over a sample of Lil B’s “I’m God” on “The Soundtrack,” weaves references to Kanye West’s The Life of Pablo *into “92 Bars,” and pairs with Jeremih for the urban pop confection “All Eyez on You.” –Mosi Reeves**
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Kings of Leon: Walls
For the past two albums it’s felt like The Kings of Leon have been trying to recapture some of that blinding rough magic and swashbuckling bravado that was responsible for the genius of 2008’s “Sex on Fire” and “Use Somebody.” After catapulting to the top of rock’s mighty Valhalla, their music became safer, more epic, more like early hero’s U2’s stadium-worthy rock. No longer the noble rock savages of their earliest work, where KoL balanced on an unsteady fulcrum between doubt and faith, on their seventh album Walls, they decided to take a leap into more uncertain terrain once again, this time by hiring new producer Markus (Mumford & Sons, Coldplay) Davs, and recording the album in Los Angeles. Both events forced the Kings out of their comfort zone. This 10-song cycle conveys a sense of psychic and geographic dislocation and unease, forcing the Followills to dig deeper into a more personal place, facing the generational anxiety of getting older and having to rededicate themselves to the things that really matter, resulting in the honesty and profundity of the title track, and their best album since A-Ha Shake Heartbreak. **—Jaan Uhelszki
Macklemore & Ryan Lewis: Drug Dealer (feat. Ariana DeBoo)
Macklemore digs deep on this new single, delving into the dark details of his former drug addiction. Sonically, the song is reminiscent of “Same Love” as a piano melody floats softly over Ariana DeBoo’s vocals as she sings in a quiet, smoky voice that her “drug dealer was a doctor.” When Macklemore takes the second verse, he relates how prescription drugs can lead to “street drug” use and how he battles the “devils” of addiction who tell him to “open the bottle” while all he wants is to be at peace.
In May, Macklemore sat down with President Obama to discuss the public health threat of prescription drug abuse in The White House’s weekly address on YouTube. They each expressed great concern and informed Americans that Congress is working to pass bills about opioids as well as provide funding for recovery resources. The President also said he’s looking to provide doctors further training to learn the “power and the risks” the pain medication they prescribe can carry. It’s a dual message served up via two mediums — song and video — but the message is clear: Drug addiction impacts thousands of lives every day and with open discussion and proper resources it can be prevented and adequate help can be provided for those in need. —Jazmyn Pratt
Conor Oberst: Ruminations
Forced to return to his Omaha home last year after a bout with exhaustion that prompted the cancellation of a tour with the Desparecidios, Conor Oberst found himself bored with the recuperation process and stayed up late at night, writing the same kind of anxious poetry, confessionals, and fragments of hallucinatory nightmares that gave birth to those early Bright Eyes albums. Since 2005’s pair of albums: I’m Wide Awake, It’s Morning and Digital Ash in a Digital Urn, Oberst had eschewed writing about his personal life, instead focusing on the world around him rather than the inner turmoil and self-discoveries that fueled his earlier songs and garnered him such a devoted fan base. On Ruminations he returns to the unselfconscious intimacy of his earlier canon, letting the songs take on a life of their own, plummeting him into some of the darker recesses of his mind. Recorded in the space of 48 hours, Oberst’s seventh solo album is quiet and stripped down, without any of the found sounds of albums past. It’s just a man alone with his thoughts and demons, trying to work his way back into the light. —Jaan Uhelszki
Jagwar Ma, Every Now & Then
A deepening of the psychedelic dance sound first introduced on Howlin, Jagwar Ma’s 2013 debut, Every Now & Then unfolds like a slowly gyrating prism shooting deliciously trippy colors across a star-filled sky. The Aussie’s hypnotic vision rests upon an ingenious interface between the ecstasy-fueled funk of Manchester’s early ’90s baggy scene and the global pop eccentricities unique to Animal Collective’s Panda Bear. To experience this inimitable fusion at its most balanced definitely check out “Loose Ends,” on which echo-massaged horn stabs cross paths with throbbing bass notes and woozy incantations from lead singer Gabriel Winterfield. “High Rotations” is significantly more grainy, murky and experimental, yet no less mesmerizing in its swirling propulsion. The splendid set closes with the Balearic-flavored “Colours of Paradise.” If you dream of being transported to a rave on a remote tropical island, then this exotic cut will certainly help you get there. –Justin Farrar
Kalin White: Chapter 21
Kalin White was the singing half of Kalin & Myles, a pop-rap duo who briefly scored with teen audiences on hits like “Love Robbery.” On his solo debut, he makes the kind of clubby R&B familiar to listeners of Bryson Tiller, Partynextdoor and Omarion. On “Savage,” he mixes a light island riddim with a woozy vocal loop from Joni Mitchell’s “Big Yellow Taxi” (via Janet Jackson’s “Got Til It’s Gone”). “Favorite Thing About You” has a tough ratchet beat that hearkens to his West Coast roots. White sounds more grown up now, but he still sings with the kind of sensitivity and anxiousness that marked his earlier work. On “Don’t Change,” he reassures fans heartbroken by Kalin & Myles’ breakup when he sings, “And to the fans/Tell me do you want me/You know I’ll ride for you always.” –Mosi Reeves
The Dillinger Escape Plan, Disassociation
Only time will tell if Dissociation actually turns out to be the final album from Dillinger Escape Plan (who announced their break up shortly before its release). Nevertheless, it definitely sounds like a parting shot. Their best since 2007’s landmark Ire Works, the set is a near flawless document of the tug of war between blackened metalcore violence and dizzyingly intricate mathcore that defines The Dillinger Escape Plan’s legacy. On “Limerent Death” and “Surrogate” the tension these oppositional forces unleash is dense and downright suffocating. Of course, this is the Dillinger Escape Plan we’re talking about, so you can expect a long list of compositional twists and turns, like the fiery jazz-fusion creeping into “Low Feels Blvd” or the dreamy, neo-classical middle section of “Nothing to Forget.” This is extreme metal at its most inventive and ambitious. –Justin Farrar