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The 300 Best Albums of the Past 30 Years (1985-2014) | SPIN - Page 5
243. Lil Wayne, Tha Carter II
(Universal/Cash Money, 2005)
Mixtape purists (and Top 40 agnostics) who insist that Lil Wayne doesn’t have a proper LP to rival his stellar non-album output need to reacquaint themselves with Tha Carter II. Weezy’s fifth full-length — and predecessor to his pop crossover — indulges in its star’s signature sprawl, but somehow the 22-track roster doesn’t bloat. Best-of no-brainers (the siren-sounding “Fireman”), slick sweet-talkers (the soulful, Isley Brothers-aping “Receipt”), and minor flashes of brilliance (the laidback bravado of the “On tha Block #1” skit) all feel of a piece, part of the same chiseled monument otherwise known as the finest “Part Two” in hip-hop thus far. — KYLE MCGOVERN
170. Lil Wayne, Da Drought 3(Young Money, 2007)
Lil Wayne was “so motherf—king high I can eat a star.” The rap mixtape, as a format, was somewhere up there, too, and the nascent Young Money boss was part of the reason: His proper albums are more consistent, but unofficial releases like this one explain his feverish cult. Though 50 Cent had already shown the mixtape’s potential industry clout, and the likes of Dipset and Clipse had shown its artistic potential, Wayne’s delirious, smart-dumb free associations were especially suited to the format.
The prior year’s Dedication 2 had the New Orleans rapper’s Hurricane Katrina protest “Georgia…Bush,” but Da Drought 3 had more to say about Wayne’s incipient dominance. On “Upgrade U,” he brazenly upgrades Jay Z’s verse from the Beyoncé original. Elsewhere, lyrics predict the rise of everyone from “young Barack Obama” (in a verse from guest Juelz Santana) to “a chick named Nicki Minaj.” Mixtapes were about to lose their innocence all the more, in part helped by Wayne’s later Young Money signee Drake. And this former Hot Boy was about to go from eating stars to being one. — MARC HOGAN
56. Lil Wayne, Tha Carter III(Motown/Cash Money, 200
Lil Wayne ushered in the era of rap albums not needing to be “about” anything, which has had its drawbacks, but his stone(r) classic isn’t one of them because it resurrected the art of what used to be called rhymin’ for the sake of riddlin’. Carter III talks a little about how indefatigable Mr. Carter is of course, but it also talks about how he’s an alien, how he’s got money, how he’s a doctor who performs surgery on wack MCs, and how he really f—ks the police. “A Milli” isn’t about a million dollars, it’s about looping the bluntest rhythmic device to underscore his flow and dexterity and how many ways a linguist can bend a syllable to his gap-toothed whims. “Let the Beat Build” is “about” how a great Kanye West beat needn’t try and improve on a faultless perpetual motion machine of a two-bar soul sample. And if you can score a Japanese edition that replaces weakest-in-show “Playing With Fire” with the epic “Pussy Monster,” pair it with the congenial-blowjob No. 1 fluke “Lollipop” and you’ll understand why he’s the most gynephilic rapper alive. — DAN WEISS
243. Lil Wayne, Tha Carter II
(Universal/Cash Money, 2005)
Mixtape purists (and Top 40 agnostics) who insist that Lil Wayne doesn’t have a proper LP to rival his stellar non-album output need to reacquaint themselves with Tha Carter II. Weezy’s fifth full-length — and predecessor to his pop crossover — indulges in its star’s signature sprawl, but somehow the 22-track roster doesn’t bloat. Best-of no-brainers (the siren-sounding “Fireman”), slick sweet-talkers (the soulful, Isley Brothers-aping “Receipt”), and minor flashes of brilliance (the laidback bravado of the “On tha Block #1” skit) all feel of a piece, part of the same chiseled monument otherwise known as the finest “Part Two” in hip-hop thus far. — KYLE MCGOVERN
170. Lil Wayne, Da Drought 3(Young Money, 2007)
Lil Wayne was “so motherf—king high I can eat a star.” The rap mixtape, as a format, was somewhere up there, too, and the nascent Young Money boss was part of the reason: His proper albums are more consistent, but unofficial releases like this one explain his feverish cult. Though 50 Cent had already shown the mixtape’s potential industry clout, and the likes of Dipset and Clipse had shown its artistic potential, Wayne’s delirious, smart-dumb free associations were especially suited to the format.
The prior year’s Dedication 2 had the New Orleans rapper’s Hurricane Katrina protest “Georgia…Bush,” but Da Drought 3 had more to say about Wayne’s incipient dominance. On “Upgrade U,” he brazenly upgrades Jay Z’s verse from the Beyoncé original. Elsewhere, lyrics predict the rise of everyone from “young Barack Obama” (in a verse from guest Juelz Santana) to “a chick named Nicki Minaj.” Mixtapes were about to lose their innocence all the more, in part helped by Wayne’s later Young Money signee Drake. And this former Hot Boy was about to go from eating stars to being one. — MARC HOGAN
56. Lil Wayne, Tha Carter III(Motown/Cash Money, 200
Lil Wayne ushered in the era of rap albums not needing to be “about” anything, which has had its drawbacks, but his stone(r) classic isn’t one of them because it resurrected the art of what used to be called rhymin’ for the sake of riddlin’. Carter III talks a little about how indefatigable Mr. Carter is of course, but it also talks about how he’s an alien, how he’s got money, how he’s a doctor who performs surgery on wack MCs, and how he really f—ks the police. “A Milli” isn’t about a million dollars, it’s about looping the bluntest rhythmic device to underscore his flow and dexterity and how many ways a linguist can bend a syllable to his gap-toothed whims. “Let the Beat Build” is “about” how a great Kanye West beat needn’t try and improve on a faultless perpetual motion machine of a two-bar soul sample. And if you can score a Japanese edition that replaces weakest-in-show “Playing With Fire” with the epic “Pussy Monster,” pair it with the congenial-blowjob No. 1 fluke “Lollipop” and you’ll understand why he’s the most gynephilic rapper alive. — DAN WEISS
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