Playlist Reviews

If you’re the sort of person who thinks that the worst part of a Drake album is Drake, you’ll love More Life. There are long stretches where Drake simply disappears. U.K. grime artist Skepta gets his own track, as does beautifully wounded R&B crooner Sampha. The shuffling U.K. funk of “Get It Together” features Drake only briefly, and primarily as a baritone counterpoint to the jazzy inflections of Jorja Smith. For long stretches of the collection, Drake is content to wander the catacombs of his billion-square-foot mansion, while his friends stay above-ground, sipping acacia mimosas around the pool and pointing their iPhones at one another. It makes for a fun party.Yes, there are still Drake’s tortured-godhead delusions, the awkward therapy-raps, and his famed faceplant similes (exhibit 1: “I’m grateful like Jerry, Bob, and Mickey”), but we also get to hear 2 Chainz blurrily quip, “I love my fans, but I don’t want to take pictures in the restroom,” a line that constitutes the most pointed commentary on outsized fan expectations since Lou Reed released Metal Machine Music.This is among the best of Drake’s clumping-tracks-together things, and that’s very much because More Life is consciously a “playlist.” This isn’t a “low stakes” gambit or a cheap marketing gimmick (at least not entirely), but an honest engagement with a new form. It was informed by Drake’s involvement on the OVO Sound radio show for Apple Music. In fact, Drake told DJ Semtex that he imagined More Life as an episode of that show. But what makes More Life a good playlist? How do we even judge such things? When critics review albums, focus is given on consistency, with the work being the sum of its parts. This is true whether the album is intended to be coherent piece of work (see: Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly or Beyoncé’s Lemonade), or a collection of songs (see: Justin Bieber or Pitbull). There’s the expectation that everything is there for a reason. More Life is looser and more meandering, and sometimes the individual components seem slight and tertiary. But it captures a moment, a feeling, and a place. Outros stretch and breathe (as on god-status track “Passionfruit”), while sampled dialogue bits are strung together—not so much to form a ramshackle narrative or even a running meta-commentary (a la De La Soul’s classic albums), but to reflect a vibe. More Life is a long weekend at the beach spent counting clouds and taking inventory of idle distractions. In this sense, it doesn’t so much resemble a mixtape, or a crew compilation album (like JAY Z’s The Dynasty: Roc La Familia), as it does a mood playlist. It’s audio wallpaper, in the best sense.While Drake delivers on the mic—his lead-off verse over the icy flute trap of “Portland” is an obvious standout—there’s no mind-bending “King Kunta”-level/David-Blaine-on-the-mic classic moments™, and that doesn’t matter here. More Life is enjoyable and, as anyone who listens to a lot of classic albums knows, enjoying music trumps appreciating it—and this release is infinitely better than any other non-sweater-meme Drake release in years. For that, we can thank the generations of mixtape compilers, playlist curators, radio DJs, and compilation creators for helping define this new form. But, most of all, we should thank Drake for getting that the lines between artist, audience, critic, and curator are porous, and for making an initial foray into what this intersection looks like. And, of course, for understanding that you should always invite 2 Chainz to a pool party. — Sam Chennault

What’s This Playlist All About? Tom Krell, the modest mastermind behind How to Dress Well’s moody mix of ambient, techno, R&B, and pop, compiles over 13 hours of equally moody pieces that hit myriad eras and auras of electronic music, all which have influenced his darkest most experimental release yet, The Anteroom.What You Get: Upon pressing play, a spectacular array of leftfield sounds will hit you from every direction, no matter what track you start with. Indulge in dreamy, decadent meditations from Kaityln Aurelia Smith and Kelly Lee Owens. Brave heart-pounding noise, static, and twitchy terrors from aptly named artists like Rainforest Spiritual Enslavement and Dead Man’s Chest. Then, reminisce with Aphex Twin at his most manic, and Joy Division at their most cinematic.Greatest Discovery: With over 150 tracks, there’s quite a lot to discover here, but we’re especially drawn to the crisp yet primal grooves of Yves Tumor, represented here with the too-short “Role in Creation,” and the soulful melt of “Face of a Demon.”How Does This Playlist Reflect The Anteroom? It’s a fantastic companion to the album itself, which has you slipping and slinking through a dark fantasy of unhinged sounds, ominous drones, soft vocal passages, and transcendent techno beats.

To celebrate Grizzly Bear’s first album in five years, the solid-if-not-revelatory Painted Ruins, Ed Droste assembled his favorite “under the radar” tracks for Entertainment Weekly. Unlike some artist-curated playlists—which are often cobbled together by the star’s handlers and/or is stacked with their own tracks—Droste truly digs in the digital crates. Good luck finding any information on Guise, a mysterious singer-songwriter whose “Weekend Relationship” is included here. Then there’s serpentwithfeet with the soulfully baroque “four ethers,” and rapper Thed Jewel, who calls himself “Fuschia.” Not every track dazzles: “Tremble,” a single by LPX of MS MR, is a fairly bland slice of electronic pop. But overall, this 10-track collection is an intriguing dive into the netherworld of Internet-mediated indie-pop. And this wouldn’t be an artist-curated list without at least one selection featuring Droste. He’s clever enough to avoid Grizzly Bear material, though, and instead includes “Faultline,” a new single by dream-pop duo Dede featuring himself alongside Los Angeles producer Kingdom.

What’s This Playlist All About? On the heels of releasing his personally reflective and politically charged new album, Desperate Man, and announcing next year’s Double Down Tour, the country-rock outsider compiles some of his favorite tracks from his monthly Outsiders Radio show on SiriusXM’s The Highway Channel.What You Get: A juicy blend of all-American classics (Billy Joel, John Denver, John Mellencamp, and “American Pie”), a few newer slices of twang (Blitzen Trapper, Ryan Adams, Jason Isbell), and one mighty tough, go-f-themselves anthem (Halestrom’s “Here’s to Us”). It’s a mix fit for Church’s own humble Southern charm and rock star defiance.Biggest Surprise: Amid all the red, white, and blue comes Florence + The Machine’s fiery, fist-pumping “What Kind of Man,” a throbbing, horn-infused kiss-off directed to every type of toxic relationship.Who’s the Biggest Outsider of Them All? No one could ever surpass Church’s musical hero and ultimate outlaw Johnny Cash, featured here transforming Depeche Mode’s “Personal Jesus” into a fragile, ominous elegy.

Cool things can happen when you turn a listicle into a playlist. Take Spin’s ranking of every Gn’R tune: As rock criticism, I wholeheartedly disagree. All 10 jams comprising the mighty Appetite of Destruction have to crack the top 15—yet only five do. In terms of listener experience, however, this anti-intuitive move pays dividends. With the ranking frontloaded with cuts off their other albums, the playlist winds up accentuating GnR’s under-appreciated diversity. For a bunch of Sunset Strip sleazeballs they covered a lot of terrain, from psychedelia to folk balladry and industrial. Only diehards will plow through the entirety of this admittedly immense playlist, but don’t be surprised if you come away with a markedly different perspective of these infamous rockers.

What’s This Playlist All About? The long-standing music pub presents the third volume in its “Big Moods” series, which soundtracks “the best, worst, and weirdest parts of life.” Here, they take on the ever-complex emotion of sadness, whether it’s brought on by big changes, crushing rejection, or an existential yearning beyond anyone’s comprehension. This list of 50 tracks is meant to be indulged in when you’re all alone and in need of a good, cathartic cry.What You Get: In no particular order, The FADER’s staff lays out a rather random list of tearjerkers, starting off with a handful of singer-songwriters who know exactly how to hit the essence of sadness on all sides, including Sufjan Stevens, Cat Power, and Elliott Smith. Soon, it slips into rap’s finest poets, from Eve to Kanye, before tossing in a little Bonnie Raitt and Nina Simone alongside pop giants like Mariah, Rihanna, and Britney Spears (I mean, who hasn’t stared outside the window on a rainy day with “Everytime” playing on repeat?).Best Pick: Johnny Cash’s iconic cover of “Hurt,” which has probably kept even Trent Reznor up all night in an emotional mess.Best Discovery: The Asheville-based indie pop band Coma Cinema’s mesmerizing acoustic ballad “Survivor’s Guilt.” Just see lyrics like these: “And I don’t care and I don’t know why / Maybe I’m no good inside / All this wasted time / To see your fucked up life become mine.”Could It Get Any Sadder Than This? Yes, yes, absolutely. There are whole swaths of sad-sack genres completely missing here—some grunge, some blues, maybe even some post-rock—and where the hell are The Smiths?! But mostly it’s the randomness of the list, like DMX going straight into Nico, that takes away from the whole misty mood-setting.

What You Get: A peppy, poppy potpourri of feverish classic funk from James Brown and Sly & The Family Stone and a whole lot of squelchy 80s synths that range from delectable cheese (The Pointer Sisters) to silky, saucy confessions (Grace Jones) to the inimitable Purple One. Theres also a good deal of warm vintage soul (Otis Redding) and singer-songwriter sorrow (Randy Newman). It all may seem a bit random—if you werent familiar with Field Musics own synth-funk-baroque-pop amalgam, that is.Guiltiest Pleasure: British 80s sister act Mel & Kims dizzying dance-pop single "Respectable," an anthem for all shoulder-padded independent women.Sweetest Surprise: Deerhoofs shuffling, Spanish-sung electro-pop deep cut "Desaparecere."Can It Inspire Hope in a Post-Brexit U.K.? If bringing together English legends like Led Zeppelin, Roxy Music, George Michael, and Kate Bush cant offer hope, nothing can.

Whats This Playlist All About?: The Söderberg sisters, whove been charming us with their angelic harmonies for a decade now, have returned with their fourth album, Ruins, a gloomy collection of vintage-hued break-up laments. Aside from devastating heartache (experienced by younger sister Klara), this is the music that inspired it.What You Get: A delicately crafted blend of poignant baroque pop from cult heroes Neutral Milk Hotel, vintage country pomp from eccentric mavericks Tanya Tucker and Lee Hazlewood, and sweeping indie folk from quiet warriors like Big Thief. But you also get a taste of artists who appear on the album itself, including R.E.M.s Peter Buck (on guitar), Midlakes McKenzie Smith (on percussion), and Wilcos Glenn Kotche (ditto).The Track That Defines It All: The most gorgeous nihilistic breakup song of all time: Skeeter Davis softly sweeping "The End of the World."Biggest and Best Surprise: More bad-ass sister synergy with Hearts powerhouse rocker "Crazy on You."Will This Leave You an Emotional Mess? Definitely, especially by playlists end with Songs: Ohias raw, rusty epic "Farewell Transmission," featuring the late Jason Molina.

All-star charity singles have a bad reputation that is entirely earned, but Lin-Manuel Mirandas “Almost Like Praying” (proceeds from which will benefit victims of Hurricane Maria in Puerto Rico) is unexpectedly fire. The Hamilton playwright and Moana composer brought together everyone from Jennifer Lopez to Dominican icon Juan Luis Guerra for the impassioned, dembow-driven love song to Puerto Rico—and it bangs.Also worth a listen is “For Puerto Rico/Por Puerto Rico,” the Spotify playlist Miranda curated to tease the single, featuring all the artists involved. Spotify will make a donation based on the number of followers the playlist racks up, so its worth the click. As an added incentive, the songwriter has pledged that, if the playlist hits 50,000 followers, he will share an old photo of himself, dressed as Jennifer Lopez. (At the time of this writing, the count was over 70,000, but we’re still waiting for the big reveal.)Though the playlist comprises a mosaic of styles, its a smooth listen. Underground rapper Dessa and L.A. producer Trooko, both of whom also contributed to The Hamilton Mixtape, seem to fit right in next to Rubén Blades. And the transitions are softened by loads of Latin pop. The selections here might be a product of who answered the “Almost Like Praying” call, but the assortment of rap, pop, Afro-Latino rhythms and, yes, show tunes could also be seen as a reflection of Miranda himself: an American composer of (mostly) Puerto Rican descent, and a self-confessed fan of both hip-hop and Disney musicals.Either way, what comes together on the playlist is a soulful portrait of the Spanish-speaking Caribbean and its diaspora in the U.S. at this moment. If theres a commentary to be inferred, its that Puerto Rico is part of the U.S. in more than just name—its culture is woven into the very fabric of the United States, and were all connected to it.

At the time of this writing, the primary Spotify playlist by Four Tet (a.k.a UK producer/DJ Kieran Hebden) spans 599 songs and runs over 51 hours. By the time you read these words, it will have probably grown. Over the past few months, it seemed to serve primarily as a vehicle for Hebden to build anticipation for his ninth long-player, New Energy. At one point, the title of the playlist—typically an evolving string of emojis—was recently updated to include the album’s release date (Sept. 29), and he’s been adding tracks from the record as they’ve been released, mixing them in with songs from peers (Bicep), inspirations (Sly Stone), and aliases (um, 00110100 01010100, which is the artist page stub where an album of Four Tet b-sides resides in Spotify).Prior to that, the playlist garnered a bit of back in January, when Hebden used it to compile songs by artists from countries impacted by Donald Trump’s travel ban, including Syrian-born singer Omar Souleyman, whose album To Syria, With Love was produced by Hebden. "Its basically a place for me to share things Im listening to, and is becoming a good personal archive of music Ive enjoyed," Hebden told NPR about his playlist at the time.That’s about as coherent a definition as you could need or want. The playlist isn’t a mix and it’s not designed to be; while it flows together in parts, it’s capricious by design. It works reasonably well if you listen to it on shuffle, though expect to be taken down some pretty dark alleys, such as “3” by noise unit Pita (a.k.a. Austria’s Peter Rehberg, who runs the Mego label), which is a boss tune and a personal favorite of this author, but likely to clear a room with its jet-engine feedback shrieking. That “3” is flanked here by everything from Joni Mitchell to CAN to Coltrane to Autechre to Burial to Radiohead to HAIM to Prince to Seefeel... well, the sprawl is precisely the point. (It’s two whole days worth of music, after all.)DJ mixes are a dime-a-dozen, and it’s not hard to find plenty by Four Tet out there in the ether. (This Tokyo set from Dec. ‘13 is particularly smokin’.) What’s much more rare to find is such a comprehensive compendium of all the sounds that go into an artist’s aesthetic. For a veteran like Hebden, an experimental cosmonaut who’s as likely to fold 2-step garage into his music as he is ‘70s jazz fusion or Nigerian funk (or...Selena Gomez), a standard 15-track playlist simply wouldn’t capture the breadth of his tastes. Hell, 10 of those wouldn’t. At 599 tracks and counting, this mix is at least beginning to come close.