yU – Before Taxes (2010)

A year after he made waves as one-third of Diamond District alongside Oddisee and Uptown XO, DC’s yU quietly dropped one of the most slept-on solo debuts of the 2010s. Before Taxes, released in 2010 via Mello Music Group, is a soulful, jazz-inflected meditation on life, legacy, and lyricism—equal parts boom-bap homage and deeply personal journal. Framed as a return to the spirit of Hip Hop “before taxes”—before the culture was hijacked by commercialism—it’s an album with heart, purpose, and an unmistakable warmth that’s only grown more resonant with time.

yU’s delivery is deceptively mellow. He doesn’t demand attention with volume, but with honesty and intricacy. His rhymes are conversational yet poetic, grounded in everyday observations and hard-won wisdom. Whether reflecting on street life in “Corners,” navigating personal struggles on “Close,” or weaving a complex metaphor about heritage and resistance on “Native,” yU proves himself a quietly masterful storyteller.

The production is as thoughtful as the rhymes. yU shares beat-making duties with fellow DMV staples Slimkat78, Kev Brown, Oddisee, and Bilal Salaam. The result is a rich sonic palette of live bass, jazzy keys, filtered horns, and dusty drums. It’s a cohesive sound steeped in the soulfulness of Pete Rock and Dilla, but pushed forward with experimental flourishes. Tracks like “BreakDown” float without drums, carried by sparkly piano and ghostly guitar, while “MmHmm” and “Fine” play like spacey instrumentals, oozing texture and mood.

“Almost Time” is an upbeat standout, offering a snapshot of life as an up-and-coming emcee. “Memory” and “The Rock” are soaked in nostalgia, while posse cuts like “Brainwash” and “InTheReign” round out the album with camaraderie and lyrical depth. At 16 tracks, it’s a full-bodied listen—quietly radical in its rejection of flash and hype, and packed with unassuming gems.

Before Taxes isn’t flashy, but that’s the point. It’s a subtle, soulful rebuke to the commodification of Hip Hop, a reminder that the best music doesn’t always chase trends—it lives in the margins, where passion still matters. If you missed this when it dropped, it’s time to cash in on the cultural currency yU was offering.

Akua Naru - The Journey Aflame (2011)

Akua Naru’s The Journey Aflame is one of the most criminally slept-on debuts of the 2010s. Hailing from New Haven, Connecticut and carrying her artistry across global borders, Naru crafted a timeless record that fuses jazz, soul, blues, classic boom-bap, and West African rhythms with razor-sharp lyricism and poetic depth. Released in 2011, The Journey Aflame introduced the world to an emcee who embodies the essence of the “Poet of Passion” she calls herself.

Naru’s voice alone is worth the price of admission—earthy, fluid, and commanding—but it’s what she says and how she delivers it that makes this album unforgettable. Her flow is conversational and intricate, equally at home weaving through the historical trauma of “The Block” as it is unpacking intimacy on “Poetry: How Does It Feel.” Tracks like “Nag Champa” and “Tales of Men” show off her ability to layer personal and political narratives with precision, making every verse feel purposeful yet effortlessly delivered.

Musically, the album is a warm, soulful affair. It blends dusty samples with lush live instrumentation—horns, guitars, keys, and percussion breathe life into each track. “The Backflip” is a standout, built on an irresistibly funky organ groove and shifting layers that blur the line between sampled and live. On “Nag Champa,” a fluttering guitar motif blooms into a full Santana-esque solo, while “Run Away” is carried by a bright, almost nostalgic piano riff that manages to feel heartfelt rather than dated.

Even when the production occasionally leans a little thin (as on “The Journey”), the strength of Naru’s lyrical content and vocal performance pulls it through. One small misstep, “The Jones,” leans too heavily into synthetic R&B—Mic Donet’s guest chorus feels more awkward than sultry—but it’s quickly redeemed by “Poetry: How Does It Feel,” an evocative, sensual piece that’s tasteful, daring, and downright hypnotic.

Across 14 tracks and three interludes, The Journey Aflame establishes Akua Naru as a voice of insight, grace, and fire. Her music uplifts and interrogates, grooves and provokes. For those who appreciate the intersection of Hip Hop, soul, and spoken word, this album is a hidden gem waiting to be rediscovered. Don’t sleep—Akua Naru’s journey is one well worth joining.

Oddisee – People Hear What They Wanna Hear (2012)

In a decade that saw Hip Hop increasingly fragmented by trends and streaming algorithms, Oddisee quietly carved out one of the most consistent and thoughtful catalogs in the game. His 2012 solo debut People Hear What They See is a pivotal moment that confirmed Oddisee wasn’t just a dope producer who rapped on the side. This was the full arrival of a producing rapper with something to say and the chops to say it well.

Coming off group success with Diamond District (In the Ruff, 2009) and a string of instrumental projects, Oddisee (real name Amir Mohamed el Khalifa) framed this release as a leap forward—both conceptually and sonically. As the title suggests, the album examines the disconnect between perception and reality. Inspired not just by personal experience but by observation—eavesdropped phone arguments, Supreme Court stepside debates—Oddisee crafted a project that feels universal, even as it reflects his own lens.

Lyrically, he walks a tightrope between self-assurance and self-examination. Tracks like “Anothers Grind” and “That Real” celebrate ambition but remain grounded in introspection, sidestepping empty braggadocio. On “Way In Way Out,” Oddisee raps, “See we crabs in a barrel, and the barrel is glass,” critiquing systemic oppression with clarity, wit, and urgency—no soapboxing, just sharp, observant writing.

Musically, People Hear What They See is a soulful masterclass. It blends live instrumentation, strings, and vocal samples into lush, genre-hopping arrangements. Whether it’s the adrenaline-pumping horns of “Way In Way Out” or the subtle, minimalist groove of “Let It Go,” Oddisee’s production maintains a rare balance: warm enough for 90s boom-bap heads, fresh enough to stand out in 2012’s eclectic landscape.

Standouts like “Maybes,” “American Greed,” and “You Know Who You Are” showcase his nuanced storytelling and refusal to lean on rap tropes. His delivery may not be flashy, but it’s clear, confident, and purposeful. Every line feels earned.

Ultimately, People Hear What They See challenges the listener to look closer. It’s rap as reflection—personal, political, and poetic without pretension. In a sea of surface-level records, this is one of the decade’s most quietly brilliant statements. If you slept on it, wake up.

Boog Brown – The Late Bloom (2013)

When Boog Brown dropped The Late Bloom in 2013, most listeners were too distracted by the ringtone rap flooding the airwaves to notice a record this poised, thoughtful, and quietly powerful. A Detroit native making serious noise in Atlanta’s underground, Boog isn’t concerned with fitting in. She doesn’t bite the South’s trap-heavy aesthetic—she refines her own sound: jazzy, soulful boom-bap delivered with clarity and confidence.

The Late Bloom is aptly titled. Boog rhymes from a place of growth and perspective, her tone calm and assured, her words drawn from lived experience. The album’s opener, “In Tune,” sets the stage with a laid-back groove featuring longtime collaborator Joe D., and the chemistry between them holds strong across multiple tracks. From the reflective warmth of “Polaroids” to the hard truths of “Cold World,” Boog balances vulnerability and command with ease. There’s never a moment where her presence feels forced—this is the sound of an artist who knows exactly who she is.

The production leans into smooth, sample-rich textures—dusty drums, mellow keys, and warm basslines that recall golden-era sensibilities without being derivative. Tracks like “The Planet” and “Pillow” float, anchored by soul-drenched beats, while Boog’s delivery remains steady and deliberate. She doesn’t waste a bar. There are no gimmicks, no overselling—just polished lyricism that speaks with sincerity.

What really sets The Late Bloom apart is its emotional intelligence. Boog doesn’t posture. She reflects. On “Windows Open,” she lets in light and fresh air after pain. On “Runaway Bride,” she takes her time—over eight minutes of sprawling introspection, winding through heartbreak, self-doubt, and resilience with lyrical precision. It’s a standout in a project full of understated highs.

At ten tracks, the album is focused and fully realized. It avoids the bloat that plagues many full-lengths, choosing cohesion over filler. Every song feels considered, every beat tailored to amplify Boog’s voice—not just sonically, but spiritually.

If you missed this one back in 2013, don’t let it stay in the rearview. The Late Bloom is Hip Hop grown from concrete, rooted in soul, and rich with authenticity. Boog Brown didn’t just deliver a solid project—she crafted a timeless document of self-actualization.

Damani Nkosi – Thoughtful King (2014)

In an era where reinvention often feels forced or gimmicky, Thoughtful King stands as a rare exception—an album that reflects genuine growth, both musically and personally. Damani Nkosi, an Inglewood native with deep ties to West Coast Hip Hop, emerged in the late ‘90s and spent years sharpening his craft alongside legends like Snoop Dogg, Dr. Dre, and Swizz Beatz. But with Thoughtful King, he steps into his own voice fully—vulnerable, grounded, and self-assured.

The album’s title is more than clever wordplay—it’s a direct translation of his name. And from the opening track, where his father explains choosing that name from an African naming book, it’s clear this is a personal work. The production—handled by Warryn “Baby Dubb” Campbell, Ricky Lewis, and Jairus Mozee—is lush and soulful, drawing as much from vintage jazz and neo-soul as from classic West Coast Hip Hop. The result is a record that feels meditative and mature, yet unmistakably rooted in the culture.

Nkosi doesn’t preach, but he does reflect. On tracks like “A Man” and “FreeDumb (Chains Off),” he dissects his past mistakes with honesty and grace, unafraid to expose his flaws. “Now That’s Love,” featuring Robert Glasper and BJ the Chicago Kid, updates an El DeBarge classic into an introspective love song that avoids sentimentality in favor of sincerity. Elsewhere, saxophone flourishes from Kamasi Washington and guest verses from Ill Camille, Badd Lucc, and Thurz add texture without ever stealing the spotlight.

Thoughtful King succeeds where many “conscious rap” albums falter—it doesn’t lecture, it invites. Nkosi’s voice is raspy but deliberate, and his storytelling is precise without being heavy-handed. Tracks like “On My Way to Inglewood” feel cinematic, while “Good Night” offers quiet reckoning instead of excuses. The album plays front-to-back like a vinyl-era classic: 12 tracks, no filler, and a cohesive arc.

Overshadowed in a year crowded with big releases, Thoughtful King is a masterclass in restraint, intention, and emotional clarity. It’s Hip Hop through and through, but filtered through the lens of gospel, jazz, and soul. If you missed it the first time, do yourself a favor—spin this record, and meet a king who wears reflection like a crown.

Asphate - Closed Doors To An Open Mind (2015)

If you’ve never heard of Asphate, you’re not alone—and that’s exactly why this album belongs on your radar. Closed Doors to an Open Mind is a hidden gem from the depths of the underground, released in 2015 on the criminally underappreciated Galapagos4 label. With contributions from Qwel and Qwazaar of Typical Cats, Hellsent of Outerlimitz, and beats exclusively handled by longtime G4 producer Maker, this is the kind of record that doesn’t chase trends—it builds its own world and waits for you to find it.

Asphate hails from Des Moines, Iowa, a location that reflects his outsider ethos. A 90s battle circuit vet and frontman for Maxilla Blue, his delivery is precise, fluid, and deliberate—always word-rich but never indulgent. Throughout the 10-track LP, he balances razor-sharp poetics with personal excavation. This isn’t abstract rap for abstraction’s sake; it’s lived experience sharpened into verses.

“Silences Slight” stands out as a center of gravity—emotive, introspective, and lyrically dense. Asphate doesn’t just rap about pain; he dissects it, reassembles it, and wraps it in language that lingers. There’s poetry here, but it’s not wrapped in pretense. You feel every line. Elsewhere, songs like “Meticulously Made” and “Impasse” showcase his control, his cadence riding Maker’s moody production like ink flowing across weathered paper.

The chemistry between emcee and producer is key. Maker’s beats are dusty, soulful, and stripped-down, giving Asphate ample space to operate without losing momentum. DJ TouchNice adds extra texture with deft cuts and subtle layering. The album runs 44 minutes with zero filler—lean, focused, and fully self-contained.

Closed Doors to an Open Mind is a blueprint for how to thrive outside the mainstream machine. No major label safety net. No algorithm-chasing features. Just craft, community, and complete control. It’s an album that doesn’t ask for your attention—it earns it.

This is one for the heads who still read liner notes, who want more from rap than just vibes or virality. If you’ve been sleeping on Asphate, consider this your wake-up call.

Elzhi - Lead Poison (2016)

Few albums in the past decade tackle inner turmoil with the depth, creativity, and lyrical finesse of Lead Poison. The album is a quiet storm of lyricism—raw, cerebral, and emotionally loaded. Released in 2016 after a long and troubled delay, it marked a turning point for the Detroit emcee, who’d built his name with Slum Village and solo triumphs like The Preface and Elmatic. This time, he returned not to showcase technical skill (though there’s plenty of that), but to process years of personal darkness.

The Detroit wordsmith doesn’t waste a single bar here. Lead Poison unfolds like a journal cracked open during therapy. Depression, creative stagnation, lost friends, broken relationships—Lead Poison wrestles with these themes head-on. The tone is somber, reflective, and uncompromisingly honest.

Tracks like “February” and “Alienated” anchor the record’s emotional weight, with production that leans into melancholy rather than away from it. “Medicine Man” sets the pace early, filled with hard-earned wisdom. On “Two 16s,” Elzhi weaves two parallel coming-of-age tragedies around the number 16—lyrically complex, yet heartbreakingly clear. “Egocentric” breaks the psyche into parts, while “Hello!!!!!” takes the bold step of narrating from the perspective of a song desperate to hold the listener’s attention. Every track is deliberate. Every idea, fully formed.

The beats, handled by producers like Bombay, 14KT, and Joself, are subdued but effective. They give the lyrics room to breathe without getting too comfortable. There’s a dusty soulfulness throughout, sometimes bordering on minimalism, but always in service of Elzhi’s vision. While some may long for heavier drums or flashier sonics, the restraint is what gives Lead Poison its lasting shape.

This is a record for listeners who live inside lyrics. It requires patience and close attention—no playlist fodder, no club detours. Elzhi’s rhyme patterns, wordplay, and storytelling demand focus, and the more you engage, the more you uncover. “Friendzone,” “Cloud,” and “She Sucks” each dig into relationships in radically different ways—funny, sharp, and unsettling all at once.

Lead Poison wasn’t the album fans expected, but it became the one Elzhi needed to make. Years later, it holds up as one of the most thoughtfully written, emotionally resonant albums of the 2010s—an under-the-radar standout that never chases the moment, but still defines one.

lojii & Swarvy - DUE RENT (2017)

If you’ve ever stared at a rent notice with clenched fists and an empty fridge, DUE RENT will speak to your soul. The debut full-length from Philadelphia emcee lojii, in collaboration with producer/multi-instrumentalist Swarvy, is a lo-fi meditation on the grind, the hustle, and the quiet desperation of trying to get by in a system built to keep you broke.

Released in 2017, DUE RENT doesn’t shout its message—it murmurs it into the ether. lojii’s vocals are hushed and introspective, almost conspiratorial in tone, while Swarvy’s production floats like cigarette smoke through a cracked window. It’s a hazy blend of dusty jazz loops, vinyl crackle, and soul fragments stitched together with care, patience, and an ear for nuance. Tracks rarely push past two minutes, but every beat feels lived in, every verse carefully folded into the fabric of the album’s atmosphere.

This is Hip Hop for the headphone listener—the kind of record that rewards attention richly. Its 22 tracks bleed into one another like a stream of consciousness, with lojii quietly weaving themes of survival, Black identity, and self-worth amid a backdrop of late rent notices and broken systems. The standout “northern organic” is a beautiful encapsulation of the project’s soul: raw and minimalist, yet emotionally textured, like a diary entry whispered under breath.

There’s a definite Madvillainy spirit here—not in imitation, but in attitude. DUE RENT trusts the listener. It doesn’t spoon-feed ideas or punchlines. It lets the silences breathe. The production is playful yet grounded, full of dusty drum loops and off-kilter rhythms that never feel forced or flashy. Swarvy’s instrumentals are as vital to the storytelling as lojii’s verses, painting a portrait of quiet struggle and small victories.

More than just an aesthetic choice, the lo-fi sound serves the album’s purpose: to reflect the rawness of life below the poverty line without romanticizing it. DUE RENT doesn’t try to solve anything—it just tells the truth.

DUE RENT stands apart as a minimalist masterpiece in a landscape often obsessed with sheen and spectacle. It’s a deeply human album, best experienced in solitude, with low lights and heavy thoughts. One for the heads, no doubt—but even casual listeners will recognize the real when they hear it.

Chuck Strangers - Consumers Park (2018)

Best known as Pro Era’s behind-the-scenes architect, Chuck Strangers stepped out from the shadows in 2018 with Consumers Park, a low-key stunner of a solo debut that makes a strong case for his place among the great modern boom-bap revivalists. If Joey Bada$$ was Pro Era’s face, Chuck was always its soul—crafting throwback beats for the crew while quietly honing his own voice. On Consumers Park, he brings both into focus.

Chuck’s Brooklyn roots are baked into every bar of this album. The production is warm, dusty, and vinyl-soaked, channeling the golden era without slipping into parody. Tracks like “Thoro Hall” and “Two Pit Bulls” sound like unearthed ‘90s gems, complete with jazzy loops, gospel chops, and head-nod drums. “Fresh,” produced by The Alchemist, flips an orchestral sample straight out of a vintage Scorsese flick. Chuck himself handles most of the beats, and the album moves with a cohesion that’s rare in an era of playlist-driven rap.

Lyrically, Chuck plays the role of the neighborhood documentarian—equal parts nostalgic and grounded. On “Class Pictures,” he recalls teenage love, getting kicked out of his parents’ house, and the rude awakening of adult life with vivid specificity. “1010 Wins Pt. 1 & 2” is full of self-aware flexes and dry humor, delivered in his signature laid-back flow. It’s not about verbal acrobatics—Chuck’s gift lies in tone, detail, and unforced authenticity.

The centerpiece “Style Wars,” featuring Joey Bada$$, is a mission statement. It’s a subtle diss to flash-in-the-pan rap trends, with Chuck declaring, “N****s claiming they the best while Rakim still breathing.” It’s not bitter—it’s principled. Consumers Park isn’t chasing the moment. It’s building something to last.

In a landscape of overstimulating drops, this album slows things down and reminds you of the power of carefully crafted rap music. It’s understated, emotionally resonant, and rooted in the traditions of East Coast hip hop—but it never feels stuck in the past. If you ever wondered what it would sound like if the spirit of Hard to Earn or Reasonable Doubt passed through a kid from Flatbush in the 2010s, Consumers Park is your answer.

Essential listening for boom-bap heads and believers in the album-as-artform.

L'Orange & Jeremiah Jae - Complicate Your Life With Violence (2019)

Producer L’Orange has quietly become one of underground Hip Hop’s most singular visionaries. With a decade-spanning catalog full of conceptual, sample-heavy projects, his style merges vintage radio static with noir atmospheres and surrealist flair. In 2019, he reunited with Chicago emcee Jeremiah Jae for Complicate Your Life With Violence—a cerebral, unsettling concept album that uses war as both theme and metaphor.

This is the pair’s second full-length collaboration, following 2015’s The Night Took Us In Like Family. Where that album played out like a crime film, Complicate Your Life With Violence shifts the lens toward the battlefield—both literal and psychological. The results are jarring and brilliant. From the jump, it’s clear this isn’t just another rap record. L’Orange opens with a deceptively playful intro, only to pull you into darker terrain with “Behavior Report,” where things fully lock in: dusty drums, obscure vocal snippets, and Jae’s monotone delivery creating a hypnotic sense of dread.

Jeremiah Jae plays the role of a soldier caught in the machinery of violence, navigating trauma, disillusionment, and the surreal mundanity of war. His lyrics are fractured and oblique, but full of piercing moments that linger. The storytelling is elliptical—more tone poem than narrative—but its impact is undeniable. When guest voices like billy woods, Chester Watson, Zeroh, and Loji arrive, they don’t interrupt the mood—they extend it, each one adding their own shade of existential fatigue and moral ambiguity.

What makes the album so gripping is L’Orange’s ability to mirror these psychological themes in the production. His beatwork is dense and unpredictable: warped jazz loops, militaristic percussion, and chopped film dialogue all swirl together into a paranoid, lo-fi dreamscape. It’s theatrical without ever being overproduced. The whole record feels like it’s unfolding in grainy black and white, behind enemy lines.

Despite its heavy subject matter, Complicate Your Life With Violence never feels didactic or self-important. It’s precise, darkly funny, and endlessly replayable. Few albums this decade examine violence—personal, institutional, emotional—with such clarity and style. For those willing to sit with its discomfort, this is one of the most rewarding underground Hip Hop records of the 2010s.

Boldy James & Sterling Toles - Manger On McNichols (2020)

Of all Boldy James’ 2020 releases, Manger on McNichols is the most haunting and artistically daring. Where The Price of Tea in China leaned into precision and polish, this long-brewing collaboration with Detroit producer Sterling Toles leans in the opposite direction—toward abstraction, vulnerability, and jazz-inflected chaos. The result is a project that feels like an open wound stitched together with brass, gospel, and pain.

The foundation of Manger on McNichols was laid over a decade ago, with most of Boldy’s vocals recorded between 2007 and 2010. That passage of time lingers in the air. You hear a younger Boldy navigating Detroit’s fractured streets, his voice calm and unfazed as he lays out trauma without ceremony. Tracks like “Mommy Dearest (A Eulogy)” are almost too honest to revisit casually. These aren’t raps for effect—they’re moments frozen in amber.

Sterling Toles doesn’t score this like a traditional rap album. His production is unpredictable and sprawling, warping genres with ease. He blends live instrumentation—string sections, pianos, church choirs, breakbeats—into shifting arrangements that often refuse structure altogether. “Detroit River Rock” pulses with unease, while “Welcome to 76” feels like it’s pulling memories from the ether. Nothing stays in place for long, and Boldy never flinches.

Even when the music veers into gospel, DnB, or psychedelic soul, the focus remains sharp. Boldy’s delivery stays grounded, serving as the eye of the storm. Toles builds a soundscape around him that pushes the boundaries of what boom-bap can carry without losing its soul. On “Birth of Bold (The Christening),” for example, the production fractures mid-song, revealing entirely new textures beneath Boldy’s bars.

Manger on McNichols offers no easy singles and demands real attention—but rewards it tenfold.

While other Boldy projects may be more immediately accessible, this one lingers. It’s abstract, jazz-soaked, and deeply rooted in Detroit’s bloodline. Sterling Toles and Boldy James made something that feels heavy with memory and light on ego—a work of art that keeps revealing itself long after the last track fades.

Hus Kingpin - Portishus (2021)

One of the most conceptually striking underground rap albums of the 2020s, Portishus is Long Island emcee Hus Kingpin’s moody, noir-drenched tribute to the eerie soundscapes of British trip-hop pioneers Portishead. While it’s not a trip-hop album in the traditional sense, Portishus borrows the haunting atmospheres, shadowy melodies, and sample-rich aesthetic of albums like Dummy and Portishead and blends them seamlessly with Hus’s brand of luxury coke-rap and vivid street poetry.

With over a dozen producers contributing, the album achieves a stunning sonic cohesion—layers of vinyl crackle, spy-movie guitars, and cinematic drum loops evoke a cold, late-night stillness. It’s dark but strangely elegant, and Hus sounds right at home in this bleak world. His flows are measured and deliberate, drenched in sneering confidence and coded language. Tracks like “Who Made You Look,” “Beth Gibbons,” and “The Gram Tape” are standout examples of his ability to create tension with minimalism, wrapping barbed reflections in understated bravado.

The album doesn’t ride on Hus alone. Portishus is bolstered by a stacked roster of underground stalwarts: Vinnie Paz, Ransom, Willie the Kid, Nems, SmooVth, The Musalini, and Ty Farris all deliver sharp guest verses that never derail the album’s vision. Each feature feels carefully selected and placed, giving the project the feel of a tightly curated posse cut collection rather than a bloated guest-heavy tape.

What makes Portishus so compelling isn’t just the quality of its rapping—it’s the atmosphere. Even without direct knowledge of Portishead, the tone and emotion of this album are tangible. But if you are familiar with their catalog, you’ll catch nods to the haunting minimalism and emotional weight of tracks like “Roads” and “Strangers.” Hus and his producers borrow the feeling of those songs and reframe it through the lens of late-night street narratives, cryptic metaphors, and underworld musings.

While Hus has been remarkably consistent for years, Portishus is one of his most complete and conceptually focused works. It’s also a perfect entry point for those unfamiliar with his catalog—a rare Hip Hop project that plays like a dark art film but hits with the immediacy of a crime saga. For those who like their modern-day boom-bap with shadows and subtlety, this one’s a must.

Nord1kone & DJ MROK - Tower Of Babylon (2022)

If you’re a fan of hard drums, rapid-fire flows, and head-nodding scratch work, Tower of Babylon is the hidden gem you’ve been waiting for. A passion project from emcee Nord1kone and producer DJ MROK, this 2022 release is an underground boom-bap statement that pulls no punches. Executive produced by Public Enemy’s Chuck D and packed with legendary guest features, Tower of Babylon doesn’t just nod to the golden era—it drags it into the present with ferocity.

Following the well-received Escape the Yard, the duo’s chemistry is even tighter here. DJ MROK’s production is dense, energetic, and unapologetically gritty, leaning into fast-paced drums, layered samples, and turntablism that harkens back to the Britcore scene without losing its classic East Coast DNA. The beats come hard and fast, giving Nord1kone a perfect foundation for his razor-sharp bars—and he never wastes a second. His verses are filled with urgency and craft, serving as a reliable throughline amidst the stacked guest list.

And what a guest list it is. This album is a cipher-lover’s dream: Kool G Rap, Chuck D, Gift of Gab, Masta Ace, Craig G, Chip Fu, Chill Rob G, Phill Most Chill, El Da Sensei, and Donald D all show up and show out. Tracks like “Muzzle Flash” and “War Machine” are full-throttle posse cuts, while “Shogun Style” and “Stomp Ya Whole Crew” pair high-octane flows with furious beats. Despite the star-studded lineup, the album never feels overstuffed or unfocused. Nord1kone keeps things grounded, and DJ MROK’s production stays consistent, energetic, and firmly rooted in the culture.

Tower of Babylon doesn’t chase modern trends or water down its aesthetic. There’s an edge to the mixing, a deliberate grit that amplifies the record’s urgency. Whether you’re catching the double-time bars or just vibing to the relentless drums, every track demands your attention.

For fans of true-school Hip Hop, Tower of Babylon is an unmissable throwback with fresh energy. It’s a love letter to the genre’s foundational elements: beats, bars, and passion. In a crowded scene, this one proudly waves the boom-bap flag—loud, raw, and unrelenting.

AJ Suede & Televangel - Parthian Shots (2023)

If you’ve been keeping your ear to the underground, AJ Suede and Televangel’s 2022 collaboration Metatron’s Cube likely crossed your radar—and their 2023 follow-up, Parthian Shots, proves lightning can strike twice. A sequel in both sound and spirit, this album refines the duo’s formula: lush, psychedelic production underpins AJ Suede’s hypnotic, stream-of-consciousness flow, crafting a heady listen that cements both artists as cornerstones of the experimental Hip Hop circuit.

Televangel, best known for his work as one-half of Blue Sky Black Death, once again delivers a masterclass in atmosphere. Compared to Metatron’s Cube, the beats here are slightly more grounded—less jagged, more jazzy—but every bit as immersive. Whether it’s the murky boom-bap of “Mount Doom” or the swirling textures of “All That Jazz,” his instrumentals provide a rich canvas for Suede’s cerebral verses.

AJ Suede is remarkably consistent throughout, weaving abstract rhymes with meditative reflections, social commentary, and left-field punchlines. Even when a beat dips into more low-key territory, Suede’s charisma and pen game keep things moving. His ability to navigate the esoteric and the everyday, sometimes within a single bar, is part of what makes Parthian Shots so compelling.

Guest features elevate the project even further, adding diverse voices to the surreal soundscape. Bruiser Wolf delivers one of the record’s standout moments with his trademark off-kilter drawl on “PBS Kids,” while Mr. Muthaf*ckin’ eXquire, Nacho Picasso, Onry Ozzborn, Rich Jones, Old Grape God, and Milc all bring unique energy to their respective tracks. This lineup is tailor-made for fans of Fake Four’s brand of alternative Hip Hop—each guest a natural fit for Suede and Televangel’s sonic universe.

Where 2022’s Metatron’s Cube had the fan-favorite “3 Hours Late,” Parthian Shots doesn’t chase a breakout moment—instead, it opts for consistency. Tracks like “First Day,” “Rosicrucian Rolls Royce,” and “Quit Right Now” showcase the album’s seamless sequencing and replay value. It’s an album that flows like a well-curated mixtape, each transition purposeful and each track offering something fresh.

Parthian Shots might not be on every year-end list, but it absolutely should be. It’s one of the most complete and cohesive abstract rap albums of 2023, and a testament to AJ Suede’s quiet reign as one of the most compelling voices in the genre’s outer fringes.

Nuse Tyrant - Juxtaposed Echoes (2024)

San Diego emcee Nuse Tyrant dropped one of 2024’s most slept-on lyrical displays with Juxtaposed Echoes—a dense, left-field album powered by vivid storytelling, philosophical reflections, and razor-sharp flows. With production from Trust One and Clypto, the project blends abstract poetics with grounded narratives, offering something far more ambitious than a typical underground release.

The production leans toward the unconventional. Drumless passages, eerie melodies, and sparse atmospherics dominate, creating a moody, unpredictable framework that suits Nuse’s unorthodox delivery. The beats twist and stretch beneath his voice, allowing room for experimentation without losing focus.

Nuse opens with “Don’t Blink,” a cryptic, almost surreal track about sleep paralysis and internal conflict, setting a tone that’s more psychological than street-level. “24kt” builds on that momentum by layering three perspectives on the pursuit of gold—wealth, envy, and theft—all filtered through sharp metaphor and dense rhyme schemes. “Miss You Bad” and “Ghost of Dilla” break up the tension with emotional sincerity, the former reflecting on loss and impermanence, the latter nodding to J Dilla with warmth and reverence.

Tracks like “The Story of the Crane Fighter” and “Love Jones” are cinematic in scope, filled with characters, tension, and arcs that play like short films. These songs showcase Nuse’s gift for narrative detail, moving from cryptic introspection to street noir with ease. “Camouflaged Faces” and “Sound Beyond Sight” push deeper into the philosophical: meditations on identity, invisibility, and artistry.

The theme of duality is threaded throughout, most directly in “Duality” itself—an exploration of contradiction and clarity in a chaotic world. “Fact of the Matter” and “Chain Reaction” tackle misdirection, disinformation, and social pressure with intelligence and urgency. The closer, “UnheardCrys,” wraps the album with a blunt message about injustice and resistance, delivered without preaching or posturing.

Juxtaposed Echoes won’t be for everyone. It’s dense, intentionally challenging, and demands repeat listens. But for those willing to engage, it reveals a striking, original voice. Nuse Tyrant isn’t chasing trends—he’s mapping internal and external conflicts with poetic precision. This album is a hidden gem from 2024, and one of the strongest arguments for keeping an ear on the fringes of the genre.

Napoleon Da Legend & Giallo Point - F.L.A.W. (2025)

Napoleon Da Legend and Giallo Point have quietly built one of the most consistent rapper-producer partnerships of the past decade. F.L.A.W. (Following Lies Always Wounds), their fifth project together, is a focused, nocturnal album that finds both artists deep in their zone. Released in early 2025 with little fanfare, it’s a record that could have easily been lost in the shuffle—but rewards close attention.

Giallo Point handles the production with cold precision. The beats are skeletal but vivid: brooding drums, shadowy piano loops, and thick basslines give the album a low-lit, street-corner mood. There’s no gloss, no filler. Every track is built to leave space for Napoleon’s sharp delivery and intricate lyricism, which never wastes a bar.

The album plays like a long conversation about survival, deception, and self-preservation. “Chasing Shadows” opens with a sense of weariness, balancing introspection and paranoia. “Life or Death” hits harder, Napoleon and guest Jay Royale trading lines about the grind of keeping one step ahead. “That Ain’t It” breaks things down with dry honesty, while “Unforgiving” cuts through sentiment entirely, touching on harsh realities in both life and the industry.

Despite its stripped-down palette, F.L.A.W. doesn’t feel repetitive. Giallo’s production has subtle shifts—drumless moments, eerie vocal samples, barebones piano—that keep things immersive. Nejma Nefertiti delivers one of the album’s most memorable features on “Presume the Unpredictable,” matching Napoleon’s tone without breaking the mood. Eloh Kush also shows up with a brief but solid contribution.

This is Napoleon Da Legend’s most consistent work since Maison De Medici (2022), and one of Giallo Point’s strongest front-to-back productions in years. Tight, focused, and quietly cutting, F.L.A.W. is a slept-on highlight from 2025 that deserves more ears.