With three albums in three years, Drake maintains a productivity on par with his status on the American music scene. He delivers an album with flow in line with the rap blockbusters of the early 2020s, which rely on the opulence of their tracks, almost like outward signs of wealth. Far from going into autopilot, Drake explores an incalculable number of sound paradigms, his finger on the pulse of the latest trends, venturing into the emo rants of Yeat, who he features on  “IDGAF,” and into loops of dark samples on the hard hitting single “First Person,” where J. Cole also spits fire. With a touch of playfulness and mischief, the Canadian turns himself into a grimey schoolboy, shooting at anything that moves to settle the score and establish his dominance, then gets in his feelings on the very boom bap “8am in Charlotte.” For All the Dogs is a wiry, complex album, a deep dive into the psyche and the innumerable artistic desires of its artist. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

With the confidence and determination of a seasoned vet, English-Albanian singer/songwriter Dua Lipa crafted a delightful collection of catchy pop gems where the songs only serve to highlight her vocal prowess. Lithe enough to avoid production overkill and containing just enough substance to nourish, Dua Lipa arrived after years of studio time and six big singles (three of which became U.K. Top 40 hits). The album is front-loaded with those highlights, creating a rush of dancefloor intensity with "Hotter Than Hell," "Be the One," "Blow Your Mind (Mwah)," and the duet with Miguel, "Lost in Your Light." The second half of the LP shines an extra spotlight on Lipa's voice, which, to some extent, can echo the control and power of Adele and Sia. "Garden" is a sweeping, soulful number that does just that, combining the dramatics of a slow-burning Sia ballad with Adele's delivery. "No Goodbyes" is another emotional journey, one of the handful of absolutely yearning and pained confessions from Lipa's broken heart. The acoustic R&B "Thinking 'Bout You" smolders, a lovelorn lament that finds Lipa exhausting her chemical outlets in an attempt to forget a past romance. In a similar vein, "New Rules" is all house-inflected shine, a cautionary list that cleverly warns "if you're under him, you're not over him." In addition to Miguel, a pair of other guests contribute additional highlights. The MNEK-produced kiss-off "IDGAF" is a cheeky, Ed Sheeran-esque singalong that provides a perfect anthem for anyone who has ever been burned by love. "Homesick" -- written by Chris Martin -- could be a direct sequel to Coldplay's 2016 single "Everglow." The delicate ballad reveals Lipa's vulnerability and softness, the defenses of studio production stripped away, leaving only Lipa, Martin, and a twinkling piano. Such exposure isn't found elsewhere on the rest of the album, which is mostly concerned with self-empowerment and Lipa's refreshingly defiant attitude. It's moments like this one that strike such a satisfying balance on Dua Lipa, an excellent first effort from a budding pop star.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

After a bit of surprising and quite good genre exploration on his previous solo album, Honestly Nevermind, on 2023's For All the Dogs Drake slides back into his usual M.O. of slow-as-taffy pull beats, alternately aggressive and morose rapping, and topics that range from how great Drake is to how rich Drake is to how misunderstand Drake is, with the occasional bit of misogyny added in to put some rotten cherries on top. Instead of the possible future glimpsed on Honestly Nevermind where he wasn't a one-note trap miserablist with a bad attitude toward women, Dogs brings to mind Drake at his self-defeating worst. He indulges in corny Scarface samples, takes tired shots at Kanye and Pusha T, drops so many names and cultural references that it sounds like an episode of Family Guy as written by AI, and almost every line revolving around women falls flat. Either he berates them for being liars, celebrates them for being of age, or criticizes them for being educated, unsophisticated, or not up to his exacting standard. It's depressing, and it's an act that's completely played out. Any hopes that Drake might have matured with age or thanks to being a father -- his son drew the album cover and it's one of the best things about the record -- are dashed within a few songs. It's annoying that Drake can't get out of his own way lyrically because quite a few of the songs have interesting music. Tracks like "IDGAF" and "Away from Home" have warped samples, dubby techno synths, and dazed beats that could have made for good backing for something less toxic and over the top. Drake seems to be going out of his way to convince people once again that he's for real, that he's the GOAT, that he started from the bottom and he's so high now he can't even make it out through the smoke. It's exhausting and obvious, making it a chore to get to the end of the 26 songs. He does rope in his usual cadre of established stars (21 Savage, J Cole, Bad Bunny) and up-and-comers (Teezo Touchdown, Yeat) to help out. Most of them are just along for the ride, slotting into the gray grind of the record like interchangeable Lego pieces. SZA does bring some balance to "Slime You Out," though, and she and Sexyy Redd add some juice to the bass track "Rich Baby Daddy." Drake the vocalist guests on the R&B ballad "Bahamas Promises" and proves again that he knows his way around a baby-making jam. Too bad the lyrics are the usual steaming plate of self-serving self-pity. It is a respite from the trap overload, but the sheer weight of the familiar beats and similar moods, same old Drake lyrical stance, and unrelenting misogyny add up to an overall negative listening experience. It might not be the worst Drake album, but it's in the conversation for sure.© Tim Sendra /TiVo

With the confidence and determination of a seasoned vet, English-Albanian singer/songwriter Dua Lipa crafted a delightful collection of catchy pop gems where the songs only serve to highlight her vocal prowess. Lithe enough to avoid production overkill and containing just enough substance to nourish, Dua Lipa arrived after years of studio time and six big singles (three of which became U.K. Top 40 hits). The album is front-loaded with those highlights, creating a rush of dancefloor intensity with "Hotter Than Hell," "Be the One," "Blow Your Mind (Mwah)," and the duet with Miguel, "Lost in Your Light." The second half of the LP shines an extra spotlight on Lipa's voice, which, to some extent, can echo the control and power of Adele and Sia. "Garden" is a sweeping, soulful number that does just that, combining the dramatics of a slow-burning Sia ballad with Adele's delivery. "No Goodbyes" is another emotional journey, one of the handful of absolutely yearning and pained confessions from Lipa's broken heart. The acoustic R&B "Thinking 'Bout You" smolders, a lovelorn lament that finds Lipa exhausting her chemical outlets in an attempt to forget a past romance. In a similar vein, "New Rules" is all house-inflected shine, a cautionary list that cleverly warns "if you're under him, you're not over him." In addition to Miguel, a pair of other guests contribute additional highlights. The MNEK-produced kiss-off "IDGAF" is a cheeky, Ed Sheeran-esque singalong that provides a perfect anthem for anyone who has ever been burned by love. "Homesick" -- written by Chris Martin -- could be a direct sequel to Coldplay's 2016 single "Everglow." The delicate ballad reveals Lipa's vulnerability and softness, the defenses of studio production stripped away, leaving only Lipa, Martin, and a twinkling piano. Such exposure isn't found elsewhere on the rest of the album, which is mostly concerned with self-empowerment and Lipa's refreshingly defiant attitude. It's moments like this one that strike such a satisfying balance on Dua Lipa, an excellent first effort from a budding pop star.© Neil Z. Yeung /TiVo

After a rapid rise to fame on the strength of his vulnerably honest lyrics and brooding mix of emo and rap, Lil Peep died of an accidental drug overdose just weeks after the release of his debut studio album, 2017's Come Over When You're Sober, Pt. 1. Just 21 and at the height of his powers at the time of his death, the rapper's untimely passing felt at once sadly prophesied and tragically premature for a promising young artist with so much yet to accomplish. At the core of Peep's art was a fearless portrayal of his troubles with mental health, drug addiction, and emotional pain. Although bleak, Peep's approach never felt exaggerated or showy, it was simply an account of a harrowing and often hopeless struggle. The gravity of his music became all the more emblazoned by his death, a topic he pondered often in song. Endlessly prolific, the 11 songs here are culled from a vault of material not released during Peep's lifetime, and skew even darker than the already desperate moods that made up Come Over, Pt. 1. While that predecessor put more stock in commercial appeal, the sequel feels decidedly absent of those concerns, more anguished and all the more haunting in its posthumous nature. After a sluggish start, the vibe of the collection starts to take shape on "Run Away," where a dour chorus finds Peep decrying fake friends and looking for solace in pain pills and isolation. From there almost every song is built around references to despair, hollow sex, drugs, death, and the kind of torments that eventually brought Peep's life to an all-too-real end. Standout track "Cry Alone" finds him deep in a haze of drugs and frustration, ranting about hating the rich kids in his hometown over a grunge chord progression updated with trap rhythms. "Leanin'" addresses suicidal impulses and "16 Lines" calls out from deep within depression in a plainspoken voice aiming to simply chronicle a difficult mental state. Similarly, "Life Is Beautiful" lays out a series of hardships ranging from cancer to police brutality with a deadpan melody and the assurance that "I know it hurts sometimes but it's beautiful." Only the less impressive closing song "Fingers" sounds primed for mass appeal with traditional hooks. More compelling are the moments that showcase Lil Peep's unique relationship with self-expression and self-destruction. His delivery, lyrical choices, and sincere examination of difficult feelings seemed curious when he was alive, but take on a profound significance in the pallid wake of his death.© Fred Thomas /TiVo

After a bit of surprising and quite good genre exploration on his previous solo album, Honestly Nevermind, on 2023's For All the Dogs Drake slides back into his usual M.O. of slow-as-taffy pull beats, alternately aggressive and morose rapping, and topics that range from how great Drake is to how rich Drake is to how misunderstand Drake is, with the occasional bit of misogyny added in to put some rotten cherries on top. Instead of the possible future glimpsed on Honestly Nevermind where he wasn't a one-note trap miserablist with a bad attitude toward women, Dogs brings to mind Drake at his self-defeating worst. He indulges in corny Scarface samples, takes tired shots at Kanye and Pusha T, drops so many names and cultural references that it sounds like an episode of Family Guy as written by AI, and almost every line revolving around women falls flat. Either he berates them for being liars, celebrates them for being of age, or criticizes them for being educated, unsophisticated, or not up to his exacting standard. It's depressing, and it's an act that's completely played out. Any hopes that Drake might have matured with age or thanks to being a father -- his son drew the album cover and it's one of the best things about the record -- are dashed within a few songs. It's annoying that Drake can't get out of his own way lyrically because quite a few of the songs have interesting music. Tracks like "IDGAF" and "Away from Home" have warped samples, dubby techno synths, and dazed beats that could have made for good backing for something less toxic and over the top. Drake seems to be going out of his way to convince people once again that he's for real, that he's the GOAT, that he started from the bottom and he's so high now he can't even make it out through the smoke. It's exhausting and obvious, making it a chore to get to the end of the 26 songs. He does rope in his usual cadre of established stars (21 Savage, J Cole, Bad Bunny) and up-and-comers (Teezo Touchdown, Yeat) to help out. Most of them are just along for the ride, slotting into the gray grind of the record like interchangeable Lego pieces. SZA does bring some balance to "Slime You Out," though, and she and Sexyy Redd add some juice to the bass track "Rich Baby Daddy." Drake the vocalist guests on the R&B ballad "Bahamas Promises" and proves again that he knows his way around a baby-making jam. Too bad the lyrics are the usual steaming plate of self-serving self-pity. It is a respite from the trap overload, but the sheer weight of the familiar beats and similar moods, same old Drake lyrical stance, and unrelenting misogyny add up to an overall negative listening experience. It might not be the worst Drake album, but it's in the conversation for sure.© Tim Sendra /TiVo

Republic Records came calling after BoyWithUke went viral in 2021 with "Toxic," a showcase for his hooky, anthemic, hip-hop-inflected ukulele pop. The (at the time of its May 2022 release) as-yet-unidentified tablet recordist makes his major-label debut with his third album, Serotonin Dreams. Included are "Toxic" and "IDGAF," his Billboard Hot 100 debut featuring Blackbear, as well as collaborations with Powfu ("Contigo") and the likewise ukulele-toting mxmtoon ("Prairies"). Throughout the album's track list, BoyWithUke proves his skill with a short-and-sturdy hook, to the point that it often plays like a set of commercial jingles with fat, simple beats. "Let Me Down" even forgoes lyrics for half the chorus, opting for earworm-friendly, skipping "duhs" and "duns." When there are lyrics, they often come in the form of candid crush confessions that aren't too likely to win over their infatuations.© Marcy Donelson /TiVo

The third studio album from English duo Honne, 2021's lengthily titled Let's Just Say the World Ended a Week from Now, What Would You Do? is a chilled-out production that finds them balancing a relaxed soulfulness with bright pop hooks. It's a style they'd already perfected by 2018's Love Me/Love Me Not (and 2020 mixtape No Song Without You) and one that straddles the line between contemporary R&B and infectious indie electronica. In fact, lead singer/producer Andy Clutterbuck and guitarist/producer James Hatcher sound so relaxed here that it's often easy to dismiss many of these songs as frothy background pop. On the contrary, cuts like the '70s disco-soul-inspired "What Would You Do?" (featuring Pink Sweat$) and the hypnotic slow jam "Three Strikes" (featuring Khalid) are as nuanced as they are catchy, embedding themselves further into your ears on each listen. Admittedly, there's a soft, pastel-colored production palette to the album that's consistent throughout and often feels intentional. Consequently, some tracks blend a little too well into each other. These are smooth, lightly funky and romantic pop anthems that wouldn't sound out of place at a coffee shop, and they will play well with the equally measured tracks they'll certainly be included with on any number of streaming service play lists. Still, Clutterbuck's understated croon is a welcome presence and he's nicely offset by the handful of guest vocalists. While laid-back to a fault, there is a warm charm and deft simplicity to Honne's work on Let's Just Say that remains engaging.© Matt Collar /TiVo

Sampa The Great’s previous releases were weightless and spiritual in nature, with a sound that seemed to soar high above the atmosphere. Now, the Australian is back with As Above, So Below - a much more down-to-earth album which is conceivably more profound than any of her previous work. The singer and rapper seems to be reconnecting more radically with her African roots, hailing from Zambia originally and having grown up in Botswana. She infuses these cultures into her music without considering them as influences, rather, simply as musical tools at her disposal. The tracks ’Imposter Syndrome’ and ‘Tilibobo’, both steeped in South African amapiano textures, are proof of this. However, she never stays away from rap for long, inviting two American rappers who have both produced landmark albums in 2022: Denzel Curry and Joey Bada$$. She displays her mastery of southern flows on ‘IDGAF’ featuring Kojey Radical, and invites the French-Beninese singer Angélique Kidjo to join her on the album’s closing track, ’Let Me Be Great’. As Above, So Below is without doubt the most electronic and varied project in Sampa The Great’s discography. It’s a solid release that’s guaranteed to transport you to a thousand different worlds. © Brice Miclet/Qobuz

After a bit of surprising and quite good genre exploration on his previous solo album, Honestly Nevermind, on 2023's For All the Dogs Drake slides back into his usual M.O. of slow-as-taffy pull beats, alternately aggressive and morose rapping, and topics that range from how great Drake is to how rich Drake is to how misunderstand Drake is, with the occasional bit of misogyny added in to put some rotten cherries on top. Instead of the possible future glimpsed on Honestly Nevermind where he wasn't a one-note trap miserablist with a bad attitude toward women, Dogs brings to mind Drake at his self-defeating worst. He indulges in corny Scarface samples, takes tired shots at Kanye and Pusha T, drops so many names and cultural references that it sounds like an episode of Family Guy as written by AI, and almost every line revolving around women falls flat. Either he berates them for being liars, celebrates them for being of age, or criticizes them for being educated, unsophisticated, or not up to his exacting standard. It's depressing, and it's an act that's completely played out. Any hopes that Drake might have matured with age or thanks to being a father -- his son drew the album cover and it's one of the best things about the record -- are dashed within a few songs. It's annoying that Drake can't get out of his own way lyrically because quite a few of the songs have interesting music. Tracks like "IDGAF" and "Away from Home" have warped samples, dubby techno synths, and dazed beats that could have made for good backing for something less toxic and over the top. Drake seems to be going out of his way to convince people once again that he's for real, that he's the GOAT, that he started from the bottom and he's so high now he can't even make it out through the smoke. It's exhausting and obvious, making it a chore to get to the end of the 26 songs. He does rope in his usual cadre of established stars (21 Savage, J Cole, Bad Bunny) and up-and-comers (Teezo Touchdown, Yeat) to help out. Most of them are just along for the ride, slotting into the gray grind of the record like interchangeable Lego pieces. SZA does bring some balance to "Slime You Out," though, and she and Sexyy Redd add some juice to the bass track "Rich Baby Daddy." Drake the vocalist guests on the R&B ballad "Bahamas Promises" and proves again that he knows his way around a baby-making jam. Too bad the lyrics are the usual steaming plate of self-serving self-pity. It is a respite from the trap overload, but the sheer weight of the familiar beats and similar moods, same old Drake lyrical stance, and unrelenting misogyny add up to an overall negative listening experience. It might not be the worst Drake album, but it's in the conversation for sure.© Tim Sendra /TiVo

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