- Heems, Nehru Jackets: Dusted, busted, boom-bap soundtracks our seemingly forever-fucked post-9/11 nervousness. Mike Finito makes 90s producer worship thrilling. Heems has Resurrection-era Common’s “I may not get there with you” spirit.
- Evan Voytas, Feel Me: FlyLo live guitarist and jazzy-wazzy insider channels chillwave, brings his compositional chops, and sings his annoying little heart out. One song sounds like Polow’s “Glamourous” beat. A plucky headphone record cool with being uncool.
- Homeboy Sandman, Subject: Matter: Quirky Queens word nerd joins Stones Throw, gets mad lyrical, violates GZA’s “half short, twice strong” aphorism, but doesn’t forget to have fun. Outsider art-rap. Even at 6 songs this is overwhelming (that’s a compliment).
- G-Mane, Mark Of The Beast: A harsh, soulful slab of fire and brimstone-invoking, intelligent hoodlum-esque political rap. Resists cynicism thanks to an uplifting final act of Pimp C real talk and a William DeVaughn update. Album cover of the year.
- Zack Browning, Secret Pulse: Fancy pants modern classical pick. Imagine the sunny, unpretentious American avant-garde laced with art-damaged Atari blips. One or two more sounds and this would scan as “cool,” one or two less and it’d score a Fincher flick.