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20 Best R&B Albums of 2015

The Weeknd, Erykah Badu, Janet Jackson and more

R&B Albums

Clockwise from top left: John Medina/Getty; Ethan Miller/Getty; Christopher Polk/Getty; Roger Kisby/Getty; Christie Goodwin/Getty

In 2015, the Weeknd went pop, the Internet went big and Janet Jackson went back to the duo that helped her explode in the Eighties. Leon Bridges and Kali Uchis breathed new life into vintage sounds while the electronic fusions of Kelela and FKA Twigs made a contemporary genre nearly unrecognizable from the past. Here's the year's best in R&B.


Dawn Richard, ‘Blackheart’

When will the world be ready for Dawn Richard? Whereas her unique artistry was somewhat stifled in the radio-aspirational girl group Danity Kane, 2015 sees her inching closer and closer to her proper fate as an R&B trailblazer. Richard traverses dense, intergalactic soundscapes, fortified by cinematic, orchestral arrangements with touches of marimbas and other tropical accents. In "Billie Jean" she cunningly topples the legend of Michael Jackson's desperate babymama, rewriting her as a confident, menacing succubus: "Billie Jean, yeah I'm a sex fiend/I'm not your girl, I'm just your wet dream." Meanwhile "Adderall/Sold" flashes the pockmarked underbelly of drug-addled fame with the line "All that glitters is sold." The glitchy sprawl and dark pop fables of Blackheart uncover Richard at her most visionary. S.E.

Jazmine Sullivan, 'Reality Show'

Jazmine Sullivan, ‘Reality Show’

Before this year, the biggest hits to burst from the versatile, virtuosic pipes of R&B singer Jazmine Sullivan were "Need U Bad," a song about needing a man like oxygen, and "Bust Your Windows," a song about leaving him with a pile of broken windshield shards. While no single on her first album in five years had the impact of those two, Sullivan proved herself even more capable of painting love's joys and messes as vivid tableaus. Like Lauryn Hill or Mary J. Blige, she has a voice that can ping-pong from an assured croon to a stressed rasp, adding the proper level of drama while exasperated at a cheating lover (played by Meek Mill), treating lovesickness like drug withdrawal or demanding that her man pay attention and "maybe take a bitch to dinner" on the New Wave rave-up "Stanley." She's a one-woman off-Broadway show, cycling through evocative characters with emotion and chops. C.W.

Leon Bridges, 'Coming Home'

Leon Bridges, ‘Coming Home’

You'd be forgiven if you thought you were listening to a lost soul record from the mid-Sixties when you first threw on Leon Bridges' debut – the similarity is uncanny, right down to the earthy recording quality. But Bridges, a young singer-guitarist from Fort Worth, Texas, is after more than just a well-crafted retro sound. Coming Home is the best kind of nostalgia trip, freewheeling, loose and more interested in good times than mere reverence. On "Twistin' And Groovin'," Bridges gives Sam Cooke a shot of Texas blues fire, and he splashes psychedelic fuzz on the hip-hugging dance tune "Smooth Sailin'." If Cooke had tried singing a song with a title "Brown Skin Girl" in 1963, his crossover chances would've been sunk; 50 years later, Bridges imagines a utopian past where he could've done it with pride. And on "Better Man," when he tells his baby, "I'll swim the Mississippi River if you'll give me another start," you'll want to jump right in behind him. J.D.

Miguel, 'Wildheart'

Miguel, ‘Wildheart’

Sonically, Miguel's tastes run all over the map, but the emotion at the core of his third album is one that's been crucial to soul music for ages: love. Miguel's approach to the world resembles an openhearted love, one that celebrates the physical pleasures of sex (as on the porn-y "The Valley") as well as the emotional joy of self-acceptance (the musings of "What's Normal Anyway"). Miguel's musical approach borrows as much from the fever dreams of the Smashing Pumpkins (credited on the swirling "Leaves") as it does from the murmured sweet nothings of R&B's biggest stars. That attitude, combined with his unflinching gaze at the human condition, results in an album-length exploration of the self in which journey and destination are one. M.J.

The Weeknd, 'Beauty Behind the Madness'

The Weeknd, ‘Beauty Behind the Madness’

Canada's Abel Tesfaye redefined what it means to be an R&B auteur with his breakthrough second LP. After a series of mysterious mixtape releases built around weeded-out goth moodiness (and one half-baked major-label debut, in 2013), he went for full-on Top 40 grandeur this time, without diluting any of his eerie allure. The sumptuous Max Martin joint "Can't Feel My Face" got America dancing to a sex-as-cocaine metaphor, thanks to a joyful hook Michael Jackson could have moonwalked to; "In the Night" amped up the violent undercurrents of MJ circa Bad while still feeling like a party; and bleary ballads like "Earned It" and "The Hills" spun gossamer sensuality into unlikely hit singles. Who else but the Weeknd could make a line like "Only my mother could love me for me" work as pillow talk? It's just that kind of raw honesty that makes him such a revolutionary player. J.D.

D'Angelo and the Vanguard, 'Black Messiah'

D’Angelo and the Vanguard, ‘Black Messiah’

A year after Black Messiah appeared at the end of 2014, D'Angelo's third album remains as sublimely enigmatic as the man who spent over a decade creating it. The sound he makes with his band the Vanguard is muddy and blurred, partly as homage to greats such as Sly & the Family Stone. When he sings, "It Ain't That Easy," he's not only referring to love and commitment, but also the resilience of black life. The band churns through the funk-rock of "The Charade" like a Prince & the Revolution deep cut as D'Angelo sings, "All we wanted was a chance to talk/Instead we got our bodies lined in chalk." He's clear-eyed about the mortal threats facing him, but he never loses hope. Black Messiah is much more than a sum of influences: While looking to his elders for inspiration, he's scored a soundtrack for the national mood in 2015. M.R.