Welcome to the first in what will be a series of 5 posts looking back on the best 100 albums released in the 2010’s. I’ve decided to divide them into loose genres for ease but this past decade has seen those categorisations blur irrevocably and music culture has been all the better for it. It’s funny to remember days gone by when your music taste put you firmly in one camp or the other, and ‘pop’ music just meant boybands and X Factor. Now the nerdy academic and the gym bunny alike can bond over the various merits of a song’s melody, the lyrics to which both their mothers also know off by heart. Meanwhile the stars of R’n’B stepped out of the shadows and became our biggest stars. It’s been a thrilling time to be alive, and I wouldn’t want it to pass without marking it in some way. Here are my Top 20 Pop & R’n’B albums, presented in chronological order of release date. I’m also limiting it to one release per artist for the sake of variety. I hope you enjoy.
James Blake — James Blake (2011)
In my view, every one of the 4 albums James Blake has released this decade has been practically flawless (as has every EP and single) But I chose his debut because it was the moment he revealed himself as even more than an incredible producer but the owner of a stunning voice, too. His archangelic cover of Feist’s ‘Limit To Your Love’ was like a bolt from the blue — frantically texting friends 10 seconds into the first listen: “Who’s that singing? As if it’s him!?” before the rumbling bass knocks you off your feet. You could argue this belongs more in the forthcoming Electronic genre round-up, but it’s Blake’s gentle singing that places this firmly in a futurist R’n’B category; especially given the hosts of nu soul imitators he inspired. He would go on to work with everyone from Beyoncé to Bon Iver but back in 2011, he was the shy Goldsmiths grad who was just starting to show us how experimental music would shape the way we enjoyed pop music for the next decade.
Listen on Spotify: James Blake
The Weeknd — Trilogy (2011)
I’m cheating somewhat here by rolling 3 mixtapes (‘House Of Balloons’, ‘Thursday’, ‘Echoes Of Silence’) into one, but given that they were later released as one ‘Trilogy’ the following year I don’t care. It’s hard to extricate one from another, as they were all dropped within a heady 9 month period; back when — if you can imagine it now — Abel Tesfaye was a complete unknown, a mysterious shroud. For me, I was 19 years old living in central East London and it felt like every hazy synth chord, every reverberating hi-hat and of course all of the decadent lyrics were being delivered exclusively to and for me. Those 27 songs completely turned the old paradigms of R’n’B on its head, killing off the corny pastiche of old and replacing it with a very real nihilism; compounded by an overwhelming amount of drug-use and empty sex. Only the cover of Michael Jackson’s ‘Dirty Diana’ hinted at the megastar The Weeknd would go on to be. For now, he was emerging from the shadows like smoke from a car window.
Listen on Spotify: Trilogy
Frank Ocean — channel ORANGE (2012)
The febrile wait for Frank Ocean to return again after his seminal channel ORANGE would have many point to 2016’s Blonde as his defining work. But if you are able to take a (very large) step back from that cultural moment, I think you’ll agree that it’s this, his first official debut which best defines the decade in R’n’B. From the immediate pop classics of ‘Thinking Bout You’ and ‘Super Rich Kids’ to the sprawling, experimental cuts like ‘Pyramids’ and ‘Pink Matter’ the whole album carved out an indelible place for Christopher Breaux in all our hearts and minds. Ever since, no other artist has managed to conjure music that stands so firmly apart, but simultaneously opens itself to anyone willing to feel. His lyrics alone can silence a room; which is perhaps why channel ORANGE feels like a hot, heady summer that every one of us has had at some point growing up — the passion, the confusion, the overwhelming sensation that this is the most important time, the most important place.
Listen on Spotify: channel ORANGE
The xx — Coexist (2012)
The xx’s debut arrived just as I was getting ready to leave home for London, and this, their sophomore came just as I arrived home 3 years later after having graduated from university. The way the two records bookended that time in my life really made an impact on how I experienced them. With Coexist, it was a balm, a companion when I felt the most alone I’d ever felt. The dual whispers of Oliver and Romy were reassuring words of solace in the long nights where I’d look back on the friends I’d lost, the mistakes I’d made. Where their debut had introduced a project of almost unbearable fragility, their second dared to go deeper; adding something close to fire to their soft introversion. Musically, Jamie Smith had a much more prominent role to play in the threesome by adding more propulsive beats to the previously hushed proceedings. This would set the stage for his burgeoning solo career, as well as making the heart of the band beat harder and faster than it had before.
Listen on Spotify: Coexist
Jai Paul — Leak 04–13 (2013)
Among a busy decade in the albums-with-curious-backstory category, Jai Paul’s fated debut was the most confounding. After completely changing the face of pop with only 2 singles at the start of the decade, Paul went quiet again, which — for one who hadn’t revealed much of himself to begin with — was quite mysterious. Then suddenly in April ’13, a whole album appeared on Bandcamp which many hypothesised he’d leaked himself. It wasn’t until this year that he’d address the release, detailing how the album had been stolen from him, and sent him spiralling. It’s a tragic story of a bright star being robbed of their moment. But the music…the music! Much like the artwork, the album was a technicolour carnival of dizzying delights; a smorgasbord of samples and melodies the likes of which this country had never seen. He may have only released it himself this year, but we’d been dancing and falling in love to the songs for the majority of the decade already. Perhaps in the 2020’s Jai Paul will be free to take his rightful place as king of pop.
Listen on Spotify: Leak 04–13
Beyoncé — Lemonade (2016)
The phrase “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorn’d” has been bandied around a lot since it was first uttered by the titular character in Willaim Congreve’s 1697 play ‘The Mourning Bride.’ But it took over 300 years to bear a truly worthy heiress in Beyoncé Knowles. Because what else do you do when you’re one half of the most visible musical power-couple living and your marriage is shaken to its core? You air your laundry in the form of the most incendiary record of your long career; sparing no-one, least of all your unfaithful spouse. A quick glance at the feature list tells you a lot about her moods: Jack White (pissed), The Weeknd (vengeful), James Blake (sorrowful) and Kendrick Lamar (liberated) Only an album this passionate could make the mighty Jay-Z look so small, and to go on to release his best work for a decade — but more on that another time. Lemonade was the sound of the most powerful singers in the world having her world shattered, and making magic from it.
Listen on Spotify: Lemonade
Anderson .Paak — Malibu (2016)
I, like most of the world first became aware of Anderson .Paak on Dr Dre’s big 2015 comeback album Compton. Yes his beats were better than they had any right to be, and yes rap legends from Eminem to Kendrick featured. But the voice that stole the show belonged to a smooth, Californian R’n’B singer with a random full stop in his name. Not 5 months later he released an instant funk/soul modern classic in Malibu, immediately proving himself to be an absolute star. Not only could he sing, but he could rap, dance and play the drums better than just about anyone else his generation. By the first listen, it was undeniable to me that he was destined to be huge, and the album’s momentum grew and grew throughout the year. You can actually hear his magnetic, Cheshire cat smile grinning through many of the lyrics across the album. It’s the sound of hot summer nights, driving with the windows down or just sharing drinks with the one you love. It’s timeless music.
Listen on Spotify: Malibu
Lido — Everything (2016)
There’s something endlessly alluring about the break-up concept album, and in 2016 a twenty-three year old Norwegian producer/singer released the best of the decade. He’d broken up with pop starlet Halsey and was in freefall, but — lucky for us — he channeled the whole emotional journey into music. As he said in the album’s trailer “I hit the bottom and this is what I found.” The album starts with the break up itself; the shock, the pain and the panic. It then travels through denial and anger (helped in no small part by Vic Mensa and Towkio’s vitriolic features) Finally the album settles into acceptance and, at the very end of it, we even get a glimmer of hope for future love. The whole thing works so well I think because Lido himself is so vastly talented — as a producer, as a composer, as a singer. And his earnestness is elevates the project to higher plains. I was so moved by it all that it motivated me to write one of my first ever pieces on Medium; kickstarting this blog.
Listen on Spotify: Everything
Childish Gambino — Awaken, My Love (2016)
Donald Glover has come a long way in the 2010’s. At the decade’s start he was writing for the show 30 Rock and had released a debut punchline-rap album to bad reviews. But between then and now his star rose and rose like he’d made a deal with the devil. He wrote, starred in and directed his own award-winning TV show Atlanta, became a father, and released this album — the most shocking musical about-turn of the decade. Gone were the cartoony bars, replaced by a howling psych-funk spirit that made him sound like a man possessed. ‘Redbone’ is deservedly hyped as one of the best pop songs of the decade, but the deeper cuts on the album plunge you further into a freaked-out long night of the soul, repainting Glover’s Gambino from an awkward nerd into a raw and matured artist who could do anything he put his voice to. He’s since gone on to star in The Lion King and Star Wars, as well as shock the music game again with video of the decade This Is America. So, where next?
Listen on Spotify: Awaken, My Love
Sampha — Process (2017)
Sampha had been binding his time to make his own true statement. Since emerging as the vocalist of choice for producer SBTRKT at the turn of the decade, he’d continued to make his beautifully aching voice known by working with everyone from Kanye to Drake, Beyoncé to Solange. But with the passing of his mother in 2015, he realised the time had come to process those feelings into a record all of his own. The music born from that period comes together to make one of the most poignant debuts of the decade — equal parts tender and powerful. The devastating opener ‘Plastic 100°C’ details the sheer dread of finding a lump growing in his throat while ‘(No One Knows Me) Like The Piano’ simply lays bare the continuing familiarity of his Mother’s house even after she had gone. It’s such a personal record that it feels like it was recorded solely for himself but stolen and released to the public. He bares so much without ever saying much at all.
Honourable Mentions
So, as you can see from the picks above — the 2010’s was a mad decade for pop music and R’n’B. It was conquered in equal parts by hedonistic, mysterious soul singers and technicolour superstars and bright lights. Most of all, it showed that the chart-topping formula of old was completely dead in the water. The boyband/girlband was a distant memory as music fans could now sniff out phoniness from a mile away. We want music to mean something, even if it is just for fun. I think the artists here understood this better than any others, and proved it over and over. Do you know how hard it was to choose just one favourite album from James Blake, Frank Ocean and Beyoncé? Yes I know it’s a rule of my own invention but I’ve stuck to it. I also found it so hard to choose a single St Vincent or Janelle Monae record that I forewent them altogether. But here are 10 others:
Beach House — Teen Dream (2010)
An album perfectly named. Its swirling, lilting melodies soar and drop just like a sleeping fantasy. I saw them supporting Grizzly Bear in Camden just after this came out and it was the perfect line up. The best way I can describe it is like lullabies for adults. There’s something endlessly comforting about the chimes and soft drums patters that wrap you up in safety.
Blood Orange — Cupid Deluxe (2013)
Dev Hynes has worn many different hats, but his most effective is as Blood Orange. His sophomore effort distils all the best things about him — the effortless transatlantic cool, the infectious grooves and unique vocal stylings. He even brought fellow Londoner Skepta along for one of the best performances of his career. And that sax chorus on ‘Uncle ACE’…wow.
D’Angelo — Black Messiah (2014)
A full 14 years after his last album, you’d be forgiven for thinking that D’Angelo would remain a memory of Noughties R’n’B. But here he was, back and with much more to say. It’s not hyperbole that without Black Messiah the musical climate may not have been fully primed for Kendrick’s TPAB 3 months later. Their methods different; their passions & aims the same.
Grimes — Art Angels (2015)
When Grimes made the leap from underground bedroom act to blossoming pop starlet (and before Musk!) Most impressively though she did it without sacrificing any of the weird, extremely online attitude that she always had. Brining Janelle Monáe along for the ride was a masterstroke but the show belonged to Grimes. A uniquely technicolor delight.
Jeremih — Late Nights: The Album (2015)
After releasing the best baby-making jam of the 00s, where next for Jeremih? The mixtape Late Nights with Jeremih promised a reinvention while retaining the pure R’n’B magic that always made him great but it was the official album that really secured his place among the greats. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again — we do not need R Kelly anymore.
Solange — A Seat At The Table (2016)
Throwing off the famous lil-sis tag once and for all, Solange Knowles’ 3rd captured the mood of the times, blending the political with the personal and delivering one of the most singular statements of the decade. Bringing disparate voices such as Lil Wayne & Sampha along to help frame her story, it’s heady and lives with you long after it’s over.
Sevdaliza — Ison (2017)
I maintain that Iranian (now residing in Rotterdam) singer Sevdaliza is the decade’s best kept secret. She consistently confounds expectations on gender, nationality and sound, delivering a thrilling update on trip-hop and R’n’B that leaves her with no immediate peers. The album is at once sexual, damaged, brave and untethered and begs to be heard.
SZA — CTRL (2017)
The first lady of TDE, SZA’s debut for the label, Z was hugely promising, but could she follow it up with a full-length that would make good on her promise? The answer of course was yes, as CTRL is the ultimate dispatch from a woman in the 2010’s. SZA is equal parts stressed out and laid back, suffering fools but making it sound so sweet the whole time.
Rosalía — El Mal Querer (2018)
This album came out of nowhere for me when I saw the video for Malamente – an outrageously intoxicating performance that introduced the Catalonian singer as a star. The album that carried it played out the Spanish fantasy largely in her native tongue. You were left to navigate it through vibe and attitude alone — and there was plenty of that.
Teyana Taylor — Keep That Same Energy (2018)
Released as the final instalment of Kanye’s hectic album-a-week run in summer ‘18, it was unclear what a short, Ye-produced R’n’B record would sound like. As it happened, it was some of the loveliest production of his career. But it would never have sounded as good without the stunning vocal talents of Taylor throughout. Sultry, confident and essential.
