Notable Hip-Hop Albums of 2023

In 2023, hip-hop fans found themselves wondering whether small leaps in evolution can be as satisfying as the giant steps of the past.

Best Of | Featured

December 31, 2023

In the short term, hip-hop in the year 2023 will largely be remembered as one in which the culture experienced an existential crisis. These discussions were partly prompted by the innumerable #HipHop50 celebrations that led young and old fans (mostly older, it seemed) to wonder if the music and art of today can compare to its vaunted past. But they also worried that their cultural impact had lessened. When the Grammy Awards announced its nominees for Album of the Year in October, none of the candidates were rap artists. Then there was the widely reported fact that no rap artist topped the Billboard album or singles charts until July — which hadn’t happened in 20 years.

To the genre’s defenders, this discussion doesn’t matter because rap records that excite them continue to appear. I’m not sure if I agree with that sentiment, and not just because I can’t easily dismiss macro/industry machinations in favor of simply enjoying the art. As a working journalist/critic, I spent too much time covering the #HipHop50 parade by contributing to lists and writing stories about sundry rap legends. To be honest, I’m not confident that I listened to enough new rap to take an accurate pulse. (Damnably, this includes Sexxy Red’s Hood’s Hottest Princess.)

That’s one reason why this year’s list of 20 notable hip-hop albums is shorter than last year’s stack of 50 titles. The other is that I think it’s important to make tougher judgements on what truly stands out. Scenes tend to be self-congratulatory, and it’s easy to give out participation trophies to, say, Killer Mike’s Michael and Elzhi & Oh No’s Heavy Vibrato because those artists made great work in the past; or simply mimic some critics and give a laurel to Lil Yachty’s Let’s Start Here. Context is important, too. Does Danny Brown’s Quaranta resonate as deeply as XXX or Atrocity Exhibition? And the less said about creatively exhausted chieftains like Drake, Travis Scott, and Talib Kweli, the better.

As hip-hop culture matures and ages despite its seemingly inherent puerile antics, part of the challenge for longtime listeners will involve trying to assess whether small leaps in evolution can be as satisfying as the giant steps of the past. Yes, I’m still excited about the genre — I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. But I want to apply the same rigor I used when, as a teenager, I tried to figure out if De La Soul’s 3 Feet High and Rising was too droll and self-indulgent or, as an adult, I wondered if the Roots’ Illadelph Halflife lacked the innocence and verve of the band’s first album.

A final note: I don’t want to highlight Noname’s Sundial without acknowledging the debate around her track “Balloons” and Jay Electronica’s guest verse, where he toys with ideas that can be classified as antisemitic.

Tension between Black, Muslim, and Jewish communities have persisted in hip-hop culture since the late 80s and the rise of politically informed rap. These fault lines have resulted in too many incidents to chronicle here, including anti-Black racism, Islamophobia, and antisemitism. One can certainly question whether Noname’s decision to include the Jay Electronica verse is justifiable. She has said that she refutes all forms of bigotry but also wants to reflect the kind of philosophical diversity that exists in the Black community. However, one wonders if she could have rebutted or countered his musings within the track to make her personal position clearer. (One famous example, though maybe not the best, of an MC pushing back on another’s verse is LL Cool J vs. Canibus on “4, 3, 2, 1.”) Of course, the ongoing global crisis surrounding Israel’s war with Hamas and invasion of Gaza makes this discussion more fraught.

Rap artists delight in exposing fractures between people of different genders, races, and cultures. Mainstream audiences have both rejoiced at their honesty and recoiled at the bigoted ways in which they can express themselves. It seems that in 2023, music fans that aren’t fully committed to the genre are wondering if they should continue to empathize with Black musicians whose sensibilities and ethics are so different from their own. Noname’s Sundial is a strong and at times revelatory piece of work. Sonically, it’s no Public Enemy’s It Takes a Nation of Millions to Hold Us Back, to reference an earlier masterpiece that was also accused of abusing antisemitic tropes. So why bother to understand where Noname is coming from?

Hip-hop in 2023 may be overburdened by history. But it’s important to get lost in the moment and remember to, as the kids used to say, “take no shorts.” Set aside comparisons. How does today’s music make us feel now?

As per custom, my list below is unranked and in alphabetical order. In some cases, I included excerpts from previously published reviews.