UG Fiend
12-22-2004, 12:01 PM
Pitchfork's done their top 50 albums in 2004. Hip-hop albums include:
39: Cee-Lo
Cee-Lo Green Is a Soul Machine
[Arista]
Eccentricity in hip-hop died when Tupac hung up his bathrobe and shower cap and stopped dancing for Digital Underground. It returned when ex-Goodie Mob icon Cee-Lo Green did his first live show shirtless and donned a mohawk of swan feathers pasted to his knotty head. Cee-Lo proves his solo viability on Soul Machine and balances his artistic poles, dabbling in both southern bounce and starry-eyed soul with equal enthusiasm and talent. Rappers with pipes have many imitators but few peers, and Cee-Lo's scratchy vocals are merely amplied by his performer's spirit. Timbaland's drumline banga "I'll Be Around" will be a staple of every college formal grindfest, and "All Day Love Affair" steals a lesson plan from the Harold Melvin School of Performing Arts. With near flawless consistency, Cee-Lo's sophomore release is an instant classic. Who knows? Maybe he's actually that dancing robot from "The Gong Show" that caught on fire. --Jamin Warren
31: De La Soul
The Grind Date
[Sanctuary Union]
Few rappers ever willingly step away from the game; most get booted from the limelight for blatant irrelevance and spend their waning capital plotting an impossible return to stardom. Or they start a label. To see De La Soul run through the typical career stop signs and drop one of the hottest releases of 2004 is truly phenomenal. To be frank, 2004 needed an album like this: The Grind Date evokes the joy of a 90s house party without the flippancy, and it provides ample reminder of the highlights of Native Tongues hip-hop. With the help of producer Supa Dave West and a slew of guests from Ghostface to MF Doom, De La's seventh release brims with honesty and sagacity as the trio appropriately updates their portfolio and shape their plug-tunin', hi-fade personas into true hip-hop legends. Check Dave and Pos' verses on "He Comes" or "No" and bask in the wisdom of veterans. --Jamin Warren
22: The Foreign Exchange
Connected
[BBE]
In a parallel dimension, McWorld perhaps, the Netherlands and North Carolina would be adjacent provinces where deejays and emcees could trade material by hand instead over the internet. Lord Phonte and Prince Nicolay would rule the province with a white glove, conscripting family's first boys and girls into the service of the king's hip-hop army. Connected is the closest version of this pipe dream, a sweltering, improbable transatlantic collaboration between two budding all-stars. Danish wunderkind Nicolay's arrangements drip with pathos and snap with authenticity while Little Brother's Phonte strikes a thoroughly organic connection. With few exceptions, this album exudes originality and artistry from the elysian rhythmatics on "The Answer" to the molasses bass and lustrous brass on "Nic's Groove." Don't be scared; it's okay to fall in love with hip-hop again. --Jamin Warren
18: Kanye West
The College Dropout
[Rocafella]
With Kanye's tireless ubiquity now verging on tacky (dude's in the new Hoobastank video-- at least Jigga picked a fun rock band), it's tempting to want to downgrade College Dropout from great to good. But, nah: Despite the fact that it spawned more singles than Kraft, West's bridge between backpack and "Lean Back" remains sturdy even still. While College Dropout's prodigious production was almost certainly its main selling point, who could have guessed that West's flow would defy producer-picks-up-a-Shure tradition by being technically sound, clever and funny-- no small feat for even the most gifted emcee (paging Encore). Even discarding the five singles (six if you count "Slow Jamz"), there's still lots to love here, namely the bumping 60s soul of "Spaceship," the rolling "Never Let Me Down", and the scorching "Two Words". --Mark Pytlik
16: Dizzee Rascal
Showtime
[XL]
On Boy in Da Corner, Dizzee sounded like a cocky, hungry kid with something to prove. Those days are over. On Showtime, Dizzee came into his own, focusing his awkward, rangy bark into a tense, vicious, cocksure sneer. He's found the effortless confidence all great rappers have; he believes every word he's saying. You ain't got the guts, he ain't got the time. He don't find shit funny if you ever try to go against the flow of his money. As with all the great rappers, Dizzee's introspective, tender side is just as real as his hard nihilism; "Imagine" is the year's most thoughtful, gorgeous, vulnerable hip-hop rumination. Dizzee's beats are as distinctive and powerful as his words: the twinkling pianos on "Fickle", the rumbling bass on "Graftin'", and the berserk laser blurts of "Stand Up Tall" could come from no one else. Showtime is the sound of a ferociously determined young dude twisting and molding hip-hop into something altogether new, something he owns. --Tom Breihan
9: Ghostface
The Pretty Toney Album
[Def Jam]
As a whole, The Pretty Toney Album takes forever to get through-- 18 tracks, tons of guest spots, several dud skits-- but considered individually these parts more than compensate. No longer a Killah, Ghostface shouts, squeals, sings, and shibboleths high-quality rhymes over consistently solid production from RZA to No ID to Nottz to the Ironman himself. Ghostface hardly brags Wu here, instead keeping Starks asphalt and carnal; sweet but and not without a comeuppance. In the Pretty Toney universe, "Love the fact when there's a baby bein' born/ Like Push girl, come on'" coexists peacefully with "It tickles when you put your hands on my balls." 2004 saw some unusually humane mainstream hip-hop releases-- The College Dropout and Street's Disciple come to mind-- and while not nearly as confessional or commercially successful, The Pretty Toney Album definitely felt the most cohesive and the most exciting. --Nick Sylvester
6: Madvillain
Madvillainy
[Stones Throw]
This all-star match-up of Madlib and MF Doom leaked as demos an entire year before it hit the stores, and it still seems to shift and resettle every time you spin it: Madlib's lo-fi production hovers at the edge of consciousness, using old radio dramas, 50s night clubs, the crime-filled alleys of Chinatown, and the "BIF!" "PANG! "WHAM!" of comic books to draw the jagged, action-packed frames around Doom's flow. Madvillainy delivers such short cuts that it has almost no low or high points, and instead of big hooks you get a run of Doom's most villainous, hilarious rhymes. The collaboration brings out the best in both men, without copying anything in their catalogs; it's pulp-nostalgia rendered with comical menace, "written in cold blood with a tooth pick" but blunted in a smoky haze. --Chris Dahlen
-----------------------------------------
What the fuck?! No Dipset?? Fucking nerds!
Seriously, that's a nice gathering of hip-hop. Sure they could have included more (especially given the rock albums they name-dropped), but that site is on point when it comes to their hip-hop reviews. Why can't they get their shit together with the rock albums, especially since that's their bread-and-butter? Agendas at play?
39: Cee-Lo
Cee-Lo Green Is a Soul Machine
[Arista]
Eccentricity in hip-hop died when Tupac hung up his bathrobe and shower cap and stopped dancing for Digital Underground. It returned when ex-Goodie Mob icon Cee-Lo Green did his first live show shirtless and donned a mohawk of swan feathers pasted to his knotty head. Cee-Lo proves his solo viability on Soul Machine and balances his artistic poles, dabbling in both southern bounce and starry-eyed soul with equal enthusiasm and talent. Rappers with pipes have many imitators but few peers, and Cee-Lo's scratchy vocals are merely amplied by his performer's spirit. Timbaland's drumline banga "I'll Be Around" will be a staple of every college formal grindfest, and "All Day Love Affair" steals a lesson plan from the Harold Melvin School of Performing Arts. With near flawless consistency, Cee-Lo's sophomore release is an instant classic. Who knows? Maybe he's actually that dancing robot from "The Gong Show" that caught on fire. --Jamin Warren
31: De La Soul
The Grind Date
[Sanctuary Union]
Few rappers ever willingly step away from the game; most get booted from the limelight for blatant irrelevance and spend their waning capital plotting an impossible return to stardom. Or they start a label. To see De La Soul run through the typical career stop signs and drop one of the hottest releases of 2004 is truly phenomenal. To be frank, 2004 needed an album like this: The Grind Date evokes the joy of a 90s house party without the flippancy, and it provides ample reminder of the highlights of Native Tongues hip-hop. With the help of producer Supa Dave West and a slew of guests from Ghostface to MF Doom, De La's seventh release brims with honesty and sagacity as the trio appropriately updates their portfolio and shape their plug-tunin', hi-fade personas into true hip-hop legends. Check Dave and Pos' verses on "He Comes" or "No" and bask in the wisdom of veterans. --Jamin Warren
22: The Foreign Exchange
Connected
[BBE]
In a parallel dimension, McWorld perhaps, the Netherlands and North Carolina would be adjacent provinces where deejays and emcees could trade material by hand instead over the internet. Lord Phonte and Prince Nicolay would rule the province with a white glove, conscripting family's first boys and girls into the service of the king's hip-hop army. Connected is the closest version of this pipe dream, a sweltering, improbable transatlantic collaboration between two budding all-stars. Danish wunderkind Nicolay's arrangements drip with pathos and snap with authenticity while Little Brother's Phonte strikes a thoroughly organic connection. With few exceptions, this album exudes originality and artistry from the elysian rhythmatics on "The Answer" to the molasses bass and lustrous brass on "Nic's Groove." Don't be scared; it's okay to fall in love with hip-hop again. --Jamin Warren
18: Kanye West
The College Dropout
[Rocafella]
With Kanye's tireless ubiquity now verging on tacky (dude's in the new Hoobastank video-- at least Jigga picked a fun rock band), it's tempting to want to downgrade College Dropout from great to good. But, nah: Despite the fact that it spawned more singles than Kraft, West's bridge between backpack and "Lean Back" remains sturdy even still. While College Dropout's prodigious production was almost certainly its main selling point, who could have guessed that West's flow would defy producer-picks-up-a-Shure tradition by being technically sound, clever and funny-- no small feat for even the most gifted emcee (paging Encore). Even discarding the five singles (six if you count "Slow Jamz"), there's still lots to love here, namely the bumping 60s soul of "Spaceship," the rolling "Never Let Me Down", and the scorching "Two Words". --Mark Pytlik
16: Dizzee Rascal
Showtime
[XL]
On Boy in Da Corner, Dizzee sounded like a cocky, hungry kid with something to prove. Those days are over. On Showtime, Dizzee came into his own, focusing his awkward, rangy bark into a tense, vicious, cocksure sneer. He's found the effortless confidence all great rappers have; he believes every word he's saying. You ain't got the guts, he ain't got the time. He don't find shit funny if you ever try to go against the flow of his money. As with all the great rappers, Dizzee's introspective, tender side is just as real as his hard nihilism; "Imagine" is the year's most thoughtful, gorgeous, vulnerable hip-hop rumination. Dizzee's beats are as distinctive and powerful as his words: the twinkling pianos on "Fickle", the rumbling bass on "Graftin'", and the berserk laser blurts of "Stand Up Tall" could come from no one else. Showtime is the sound of a ferociously determined young dude twisting and molding hip-hop into something altogether new, something he owns. --Tom Breihan
9: Ghostface
The Pretty Toney Album
[Def Jam]
As a whole, The Pretty Toney Album takes forever to get through-- 18 tracks, tons of guest spots, several dud skits-- but considered individually these parts more than compensate. No longer a Killah, Ghostface shouts, squeals, sings, and shibboleths high-quality rhymes over consistently solid production from RZA to No ID to Nottz to the Ironman himself. Ghostface hardly brags Wu here, instead keeping Starks asphalt and carnal; sweet but and not without a comeuppance. In the Pretty Toney universe, "Love the fact when there's a baby bein' born/ Like Push girl, come on'" coexists peacefully with "It tickles when you put your hands on my balls." 2004 saw some unusually humane mainstream hip-hop releases-- The College Dropout and Street's Disciple come to mind-- and while not nearly as confessional or commercially successful, The Pretty Toney Album definitely felt the most cohesive and the most exciting. --Nick Sylvester
6: Madvillain
Madvillainy
[Stones Throw]
This all-star match-up of Madlib and MF Doom leaked as demos an entire year before it hit the stores, and it still seems to shift and resettle every time you spin it: Madlib's lo-fi production hovers at the edge of consciousness, using old radio dramas, 50s night clubs, the crime-filled alleys of Chinatown, and the "BIF!" "PANG! "WHAM!" of comic books to draw the jagged, action-packed frames around Doom's flow. Madvillainy delivers such short cuts that it has almost no low or high points, and instead of big hooks you get a run of Doom's most villainous, hilarious rhymes. The collaboration brings out the best in both men, without copying anything in their catalogs; it's pulp-nostalgia rendered with comical menace, "written in cold blood with a tooth pick" but blunted in a smoky haze. --Chris Dahlen
-----------------------------------------
What the fuck?! No Dipset?? Fucking nerds!
Seriously, that's a nice gathering of hip-hop. Sure they could have included more (especially given the rock albums they name-dropped), but that site is on point when it comes to their hip-hop reviews. Why can't they get their shit together with the rock albums, especially since that's their bread-and-butter? Agendas at play?