The Most Underrated Albums in Pitchfork Review History

Pitchfork Score: 7.4

Deserved Score: 8.2

Excerpt: "See, Drake's not a great rapper. His delivery manages to convey confidence at pretty much all times, but it's still halting and awkward. Half the time, his lines barely even make sense: 'I never get attracted to fans/ Cuz an eager beaver could be the collapse of a dam'—huh? And even if the tape is mostly crammed with emo soul-baring, he still comes up with lines like this: 'My delivery just got me buzzing like the pizza man.' Ugh. In his four appearances on the tape, Lil Wayne just annihilates Drake. This wouldn't be news, except we're talking about circa-2009 syrup-fried Wayne here, and it's rarer and rarer that he gets the better of anyone on a song.—Tom Breihan

Despite the fact that So Far Gone was the hottest hip-hop release of early 2009 and Drake had a bigger initial buzz than any rapper since maybe 50 Cent, Pitchfork slept on the mixtape for several months, waiting until "Best I Ever Had" was already near the top of the Billboard charts to finally publish a review. And while Drake's effective debut helped push hip-hop toward more indie-friendly sounds, many reviewers at the time, including Pitchfork, treated it as almost irredeemably corny. Even most of the doubters have come around to accepting Drake's undeniable talent, but that should have already been clear from the melodic hooks and haunting atmospherics of this groundbreaking mixtape.

Pitchfork Score: 6.4

Deserved Score: 9.5

Excerpt: It's practically brainwashing, isn't it? Daft Punk seem to be operating under the premise that if you hear something enough times, you'll start to believe it. But after more than 15 listens to Discovery's first single and opening track, "One More Time," vocodered vocalist Romanthony doesn't have me "feeling the need," much less not waiting, celebrating, and dancing so free. This could just be me, of course. Maybe I just haven't taken enough ecstasy and horse tranquilizers to appreciate the tinny, sampled brass ensemble, the too-sincere "chill out" midsection, or the fat drum machine beats that throb in time with my headache.—Ryan Schreiber

Pitchfork has come a long way in the last 12 years, and few reviews exemplify this change better than founder Ryan Schreiber's tepid take on Daft Punk's classic album from 2001. The site has gone back and corrected this stance on the French duo's music in later reviews and features, and this year Daft Punk was the subject of a cover story and a highly complimentary Best New Music rating. It's unlikely, in other words, that this review has kept many people in the years since from paying attention to Daft Punk. Songs like "One More Time" and "Digital Love" have managed to cut through the broader cultural consciousness in a multitude of ways. However, it's revealing to see how foreign dance music seemed to an indie audience in 2001 as opposed to today, when genre lines are less important and Pitchfork is one of this style of music's biggest boosters.

Pitchfork Score: 0.6

Deserved Score: 6.0

Excerpt: "I Get Wet is an insidious beast, planting itself into the deepest instinctual recesses of your brainstem, where it instantly detonates in a visceral adrenal charge. There is suddenly no respect for proper behavior, just the urge to turn acrobatic flips and smash everything within a fifty-foot radius. You're Genghis Khan in the San Dimas Sportmart somersaulting over Nike racks to the Slippery When Wet synth-metal of Beethoven's Schmidt Music foray into Bachman-Turner Overdrive. And then you wake up the next morning, hazy-headed and groggy, humiliated by the preceding night's incidents. Don't blame yourself. This music is evil in its purest form, wafting through air, waiting to possess every decent person in the entire room until they're flat on their backs in bed, wrists tied to the headboard, with drunken priests standing holy at their sides to exorcise the demon."—Ryan Schreiber

In the intervening years from 2001 to 2012, Pitchfork managed to scrounge up an extra eight points of esteem for this over-the-top mission statement from partying and unironic fun's foremost ambassador, Andrew W.K. This self-correction shows a shift in Pitchfork's approach over time, but it's also an indication of how much the experience of being a music lover has changed. Back in the day, the really hardcore indie music fans showed how intense they were by showing an almost academic seriousness. Today, loving music has a lot more to do with finding something fun wherever it might happen to be. Andrew W.K.'s cheesy and sincere love of fun might have been eyeroll-inducing when it was first introduced, but today it's nice to have someone willing to cut through the cynicism of the Internet and just preach the gospel of having a good time.

Pitchfork Score: 6.9

Deserved Score: 8.6

Excerpt: "Though the results of his exuberant mixing and matching are uneven at times, Albarn's obsessions fit together just often enough to again make Gorillaz more than mere Adult Swim novelty."—Rob Mitchum

For the '90s indie rock generation that established and defined Pitchfork's initial editorial approach, Damon Albarn will forever be the guy from Blur, which casts everything he does in a different light. For those who came up listening to music in the early 2000s, Gorillaz might as well be his main project, and Demon Days is his seminal album. For many younger people, it may have also been their first introduction to '90s underground rap figures like MF DOOM and De La Soul or their first brush with pop music that sounded truly weird. Songs like "Dare" and "All Alone" are abrasive, especially compared to the easy funk of a smash hit like "Feel Good Inc.," but they quickly reveal themselves to be tantalizing, warped pop products in their own right. Few albums with such mainstream visibility had such creepy sounds as the strung-out "Kids With Guns" or the jarring "White Light," making Gorillaz one of the best entry points for a new generation of people interested in warped music that caught them off guard, much as the way indie rock had done for a cohort before them.

Pitchfork Score: 6.4

Deserved Score: 8.0

Excerpt: "An exercise in scope: Transatlanticism dulls the edges of their usually acute divinations. A towering mass of sound: it leans (mostly lyrically) more toward Postal Service inclinations than it does previous groundwork. Case in point: -- sunny jingle jangle of 'Title and Registration', a Gibbard-patented melody accompanied by clear, understated guitar work replete with a stop/start drum kit and ringing tones. Will leave you singing about glove compartments."—William Morris

Today, Pitchfork would never run a review like William Morris's skeptical take on Transatlanticism, which may have literally just been, as he jokes, his notes that he didn't have time to turn into a full review for his editor. There is something kind of sad about the fact that the site doesn't really run silly conceptual ideas like this anymore, but it would also be a bummer if people overlooked Death Cab's best and most important album because of such a vague write-up. So briefly let's celebrate the triumphant takes on bummer and uncertainty contained in tightly written songs like "The New Year" and "The Sound of Settling." Let's make a nod to that easily maligned and overly precious glove compartment of "Title and Registration," the kind of understated song that Death Cab would abandon for directness on its major label follow-up. Let's enjoy the crash of "Expo 86" and "We Felt Like Giants" as they wash over us, and let's remember why we cared about Death Cab to begin with.

Pitchfork Score: 8.1

Deserved Score: 9.6

Excerpt: "As the second half of its title implies, the album is a ruminative collection of songs full of natural imagery and acoustic strums-- the sound of a man left alone with his memories and a guitar. Bon Iver will likely bear comparisons to Iron & Wine for its quiet folk and hushed intimacy, but in fact, Vernon, adopting a falsetto that is worlds away from his work with DeYarmond Edison, sounds more like TV on the Radio's Tunde Adebimpe, not just in his vocal timbre, but in the way his voice grows grainier as it gets louder."—Stephen M. Deusner

Let's not underestimate the importance of that coveted Best New Music stamp. For Emma, Forever Ago got a very complimentary write-up and a solid 8.1 score, but it flew under a lot of people's radar when it first came out. Perhaps bearded folk music dudes don't make good fodder for the hype cycle. But over the course of the following year, after a re-release on Jagjaguwar and bolstered by the promotion of singles like the spare sing-along "Skinny Love" and the quiet ballad of acceptance "Re: Stacks," the album picked up more momentum. Today it's rightfully considered as a classic of modern folk, the rough, emotionally raw introduction to one of contemporary music's most distinctive voices.

Pitchfork Score: 4.5

Deserved Score: 7.5

Excerpt: "Is Jay-Z really the kind of guy who should be telling rappers to think differently about building a fanbase when his only mixtape was created to sell a shoe? Because from its roster of producers and guest spots to its elaborate marketing, Blueprint 3 is the kind of stuck-on-stupid, event-driven money pit that proves while Jay-Z's at a point where he's got no one to answer to but himself, he's still capable of an entire hour of failing to take his own advice."—Ian Cohen

It's safe to say that most people don't remember a lot of the album cuts on Blueprint 3, many of which were, as noted in Pitchfork's review, surface-level attempts to latch on to current trends and incorporate of-the-moment rappers. However, while Jay Z had long been seen within hip-hop as the genre's biggest star, it took the singles from this album to truly cement his place in mainstream pop's highest echelon. "Empire State of Mind" was Jay's first No. 1 single on the Hot 100, and hits like "On To The Next One" and "Run This Town" remain some of his strongest crossover pop bids. As a result, this album is what many audiences outside of rap know Jay Z for, and, while it had some flops, it showcases his willingness to keep trying new things rather than continuing to retread the same sound that initially made him famous. It may not be the best Jay Z album, but it's still an essential listen for anyone trying to understand the superstar's career and crossover appeal.

Pitchfork Score: 1.6

Deserved Score: 6.7

Excerpt: "The album maintains some of the overweening humor of Donald Glover's sitcom 'Community', but Glover's exaggerated, cartoonish flow and overblown pop-rap production are enough to make Camp one of the most uniquely unlikable rap records of this year (and most others). What's worse is how he uses heavy topics like race, masculinity, relationships, street cred, and 'real hip-hop' as props to construct a false outsider persona."—Ian Cohen

Sure, at first there's something that seems a little disingenuous about Donald Glover's rap career—it doesn't seem fair to brag about how rich you are when you made your money from being a successful comedian or to complain about how not being "hood" enough is holding back your rap career when Drake is the most prominent artist in hip-hop. But Ian Cohen's insistence that Childish Gambino is holding straw man arguments or playing solely for laughs ignores just how well-made an album Camp is. The production, from Glover's pal and go-to sitcom composer Ludwig Goransson, is lush, ambitious and unique, and, while some of the punchlines are groaners, the lyrics of songs like "Outside" and "Kids (Keep Up)" are deeply endearing and affecting.

Pitchfork Score: 2.1

Deserved Score: 7.0

Excerpt: "Live, it's probably their closer, but 'Dust Bowl Dance' hints that Mumford & Sons are in the costume business. They're playing dress-up in threadbare clothes."—Stephen M. Deusner

Pitchfork's takedown of Mumford and Sons as a commercialized facsimile of indie and folk aesthetics undoubtedly helped cement the band's role as the butt of any joke involving mandolins. But while they may dress like parodies of themselves and make blockbuster songs better geared toward arenas than quiet campfire sing-alongs, the earnest English balladeers take folk elements and make hits. These songs, which do admittedly follow a similar formula of dramatic buildups, feel engineered for soundtracking dramatic road trips and meaningful early evening walks through busy cities. The pained wallow of "Little Lion Man" and the uplifting bombast of "The Cave" may be cheesy, but that's kind of the point–and one that many miss when they buy in wholesale to Pitchfork's charge that the band is merely playing dress-up.

Pitchfork Score: 5.4

Deserved Score: 8.0

Excerpt: "Sadly, The Roots seem to be following the Black Eyed Peas' lead on The Tipping Point-- and not just musically."—Nick Sylvester

The Roots have safely sailed into that point of acceptance where just about everyone agrees they're great but few people are that excited by them or pay them particularly close attention. It's easy to treat all their albums as uniformly great, or at least uniformly nice, so a review that challenges that idea is pleasantly jarring. Yet while The Tipping Point is almost assuredly the weakest Roots album, it's totally deserving of more than a quick dismissal as a meandering piece of middlebrow neo-soul. Recent Roots albums have been harder hitting, but The Tipping Point, along with Phrenology are better suited to throw on when you'd rather vibe out.

Pitchfork Score: 1.0

Deserved Score: 6.2

Excerpt: "Unless you buy into Miller's persona-- and why would you?-- Blue Slide Park offers you nothing that you can't find done more much artfully by, say, Curren$y."—Jordan Sargent

Mac Miller reputedly took the terrible critical reception to his debut pretty hard, and Pitchfork was the harshest of the pack (he did recently have his moment of vindication when Pitchfork reviewer Jordan Sargent profiled him for Spin). You can see what he'd be disappointed about: Who could really get that mad about an album full of party raps that talked about missing your childhood park? It's true that Mac Miller wasn't stunningly unique on his debut, but he was no more deserving of scorn than the scores of other rappers with little more to talk about than their cool clothes. In many ways, the backlash against Miller seems to have been as much against the perceptions of his audience as against the actual music. The production on Blue Slide Park is rich and interesting, and Miller shows a real talent for making songs people want to sing along with, especially on "Frick Park Market" and "Smile Back." If there was a bright side to the panning, though, it's that it seems to have pushed Miller in weirder directions and toward exciting collaborators like Earl Sweatshirt and Ab-Soul rather than encouraging him to follow in the pop footsteps of his Pittsburgh buddy Wiz Khalifa.

Pitchfork Score: 3.9

Deserved Score: 6.8

Excerpt: "No song on II is meaningfully distinguishable from the next. Everything pumps out in an undifferentiated slurry of interchangeable dick jokes, drug references, and lame puns."—Jayson Greene

Lil Wayne has undeniably fallen off from his glory days, and rap critics have been quick to point it out. Jayson Greene tore I Am Not A Human Being II apart for its rehashed ideas and lazy attitude, critiques that aren't entirely undeserved. However, the rush to point out the immensity of Wayne's decline ignored the reality that there are still some monster songs on this album. Wayne's diminished rapping creativity doesn't mean he's lost all his pop instincts, nor has it kept his collaborators from putting in admirable efforts. In fact, with "No Worries," "Love Me" and "Rich as F***," this album contains as strong a run of singles as anything Wayne's put out post-Carter III, making it easy to enjoy, if hard to admire.

Pitchfork Score: 8.2

Deserved Score: 9.8

Excerpt: "That 'Two Words' is sequestered (along with the chock-full-of-clever 'Through the Wire') behind a painful stretch of three clunker skits in four tracks (with the song island, 'School Spirit', one of the album's weakest) shows that Kanye hasn't quite soaked in the lesson of the Jay-Z album that made his reputation: less skits = longer shelf life. Fortunately, listeners can take the editing into their own hands in this age of the iPod, also axing the once-interesting, twice-tiresome biography speech that fills out the 12-minute 'Last Call'."—Rob Mitchum

It's not like Pitchfork tore Kanye's debut apart–although for a Best New Music rating and score of 8.2, the review is, as it notes itself, rather critical. But College Dropout—considered Kanye's best or second best by a large swath of his fans—does seem underrated in retrospect. While each of Kanye's later albums is held up as more or less undeniable art on Pitchfork, this one gets a nod as simply a very good hip-hop album. Hindsight, naturally, has made it easier to forgive the album's flaws: The career narrative of "Last Call" is more compelling now that the story of Kanye's early years isn't as frequently repeated, for instance. The skits are skippable, yes, but we've long since cut them from our playlists now that we're not listening to the album on CD. Lyrical "juvenalia" on once-maligned songs like "New Workout Plan" or "School Spirit" feel lighthearted and exciting compared to his current seriousness, while the upbeat soul production feels soothing next to the orchestral ambition of My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy and the grating clash of Yeezus. Now we know that this version of Kanye would facilitate the careers of Drake, J. Cole, Kid Cudi, Mac Miller, Kendrick and many more, so the importance of College Dropout is clearer. But the great songs were always there, if sometimes unrecognized, from the beginning.

Pitchfork Score: 5.8

Deserved Score: 8.1

Excerpt: "Do the Avett Brothers ever wake up feeling cranky? Mean-spirited? Less than generous? Their songs all communicate an unfailingly chummy earnestness that stems from candid introspection and unbidden love for their fellow man, and perhaps more than their brotherly harmonies or their rambunctious take on string-band Americana, that sincerity is their chief appeal. Of late, however, the Avetts' self-reckoning has grown so overbearing that it borders on obsession and threatens to limit their musical range."—Stephen M. Deusner

For the most part, Pitchfork's reputation for being willfully difficult or elitist is undeserved. However, one common trope that reinforces this perception is the site's tendency to pan a previously independent band's major label debut. I And Love And You is widely considered to be one of the best contemporary new country/folk albums there is—it was record that thrust them far enough into the spotlight to  land a chance performing alongside Bob Dylan at the Grammys. Despite this review's skepticism, its lyrical sincerity is one of the record's strongest assets rather than a shortcoming. The crisp production, thoughtful songwriting and delicate harmonies of tracks like "I And Love And You" and "Laundry Room" offer a modern, refreshing take on traditional sounds, giving a perfect example of the way that folk music continues to carve out new significance even in the current era.

Pitchfork Score: 6.3

Deserved Score: 7.5

Excerpt: "And yet, it's the hook from 'Power' that gets to the discomforting center of Relax: 'It's too easy. Even if I told you about it, you probably wouldn't even believe me.' Like many highly intelligent people who can succeed in any number of pursuits, Das Racist sound unimpressed by their own staggering ability..."—Ian Cohen

Das Racist were obviously pretty over the idea of being Das Racist by the time they got around to putting out their official album, and that apathy is something that Ian Cohen definitely picked up on in his frustrated take on Relax. The album really couldn't touch either of the group's mixtapes, particularly the fantastic Sit Down, Man. Yet while Relax had little of the rapid-fire silliness of those projects, it had plenty of moments of enjoyable stupidity and brief flashes of a different tone that hadn't surfaced on the group's mixtapes. "Relax" served as something like a prelude for Heems's solo career, while "Booty In The Air" was a primer for the absurdity that Kool A.D. has embraced since the group dissolved. Lead single "Michael Jackson" is probably the best outright song that Das Racist ever made. Relax wasn't brilliant, but it was funnier and more fun than it was given credit for.

Pitchfork Score: 4.5

Deserved Score: 7.1

Excerpt: "...once you understand the basic 2 Chainz persona, there's no narrative, no room for introspection, no flexibility, nothing beyond the one-dimensional caricature he's crafted on countless other verses. Whether he succeeds or fails, then, relies heavily on how funny you think lines such as, 'Go so hard, Viagra try to sign me,' really are, and ultimately, whether or not he can produce quality songs."—David Drake

There wasn't anything particularly profound about 2 Chainz's album, which, like David Drake noted in his review, seemed to almost force its way into making people care. But while its dirty jokes and one-note punchlines get a little tired when played straight through, Based on a T.R.U. Story has been an ongoing gift in terms of enjoyable singles, from "No Lie" to "Birthday Song" to "I Luv Dem Strippers" to "I'm Different." Presenting the album as a failure to deliver on the promise of a few specific mixtape tracks overlooks how fun it still manages to be. 2 Chainz does generally thrive in shorter formats, but it's a solid encapsulation of his work and an album that anyone paying attention to hip-hop in 2012 and 2013 should be familiar with.

Pitchfork Score: 4.1

Deserved Score: 8.2

Excerpt: "There's handclaps and horns, sprightly choruses and thousand-part harmonies to go around, but all the fluff either seems appliqued onto the song as an afterthought or the only real thought the song's got. A carefully curated list of influences abound, but no matter who they're reminding you of, Sharpe and company are careful not to outdo anything that's preceded them in energy or inspiration or both."—Paul Thompson

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros is part of that rare breed of indie band that's managed to pick up quite a following in spite of Pitchfork's ongoing ambivalence. While a cynic might ascribe that level of success to the commercial-friendly, "focus-grouped" sheen that constituted reviewer Paul Thompson's central critique, it's more likely due to the simple fact that the band manages to make music that successfully applies traditional (and therefore familiar) sounds to modern life. Up From Below evokes the ideas of the late '60s and early '70s, but its restless jumble of styles could have only come from the multifaceted present. And then there's the band's massive hit, "Home," which is so essentially appealing it even managed to break through the cynicism filter of an otherwise skeptical review.

Pitchfork Score: 3.8

Deserved Score: 7.4

Excerpt: "Whatever the unfettered vision for the record, through masterful PR work, Nas has given ample reason for listeners to blame everyone but himself for his most cynical and arguably worst album yet. At least Nastradamus was up front about being a shitty crossover bid."—Ian Cohen

Widely considered an embarrassing concession after an initial grab for attention, Untitled was dismissed by Pitchfork's Ian Cohen and others as one of Nas' worst albums. And yes, it may have been overshadowed by the DJ Green Lantern collaboration from the same era, The N***** Tape. But it also wasn't nearly as bad as people made it out to be. Rather, songs like "America," "Project Roach" and "Y'all My N****s" took a frank look at race—and gender inequality—in a way that few equally high-profile rap releases did previously or have done since. Musically, it may have been a little flat, but all the complaining about how Nas was watering down his message by compromising on the album's title overshadowed what a radical release it still was.

Pitchfork Score: 7.2

Deserved Score: 8.4

Excerpt: "Pieces of it go by unnoticed. Bits either blend into one another or wander. Oddly, at times it seems like Darnielle works more movingly and astutely when he's inventing his tales rather than partaking in personal anecdote and/or trauma. Then again, invention often possesses a more beautiful narrative arc than retreating to your bedroom to block out a parental argument."—Brandon Stosuy

Although Pitchfork ranked The Sunset Tree as the 102nd best album of the 2000s, a look back at the site's original take on it makes the appeal puzzling, since the focus is almost exclusively on the descriptive power of the first four songs. While it's fair to say that "This Year" is probably the best song Darnielle's ever written, so much of The Sunset Tree's power is in the disarming beauty, subtle terror and understated poppiness of songs like "Dance Music," "Up The Wolves" and "Hast Thou Considered the Tetrapod." And if there's specific power to be found in Darnielle's decision to write a biographical album, it's most distinct in closer "Pale Green Things," a gorgeous dissection of the conflict inspired by the loss of someone responsible for substantial pain.

Pitchfork Score: 4.0

Deserved Score: 6.3

Excerpt: "But across its 14 tracks and 50 minutes, What Will We Be again sounds like Banhart's attempt to prove he can take risks and sound interesting without his acoustic guitar. A mess of scrambled styles that ostracizes more often than it charms, at least one-third of this record plays like a batch of covers cribbed from one of those Putamayo world-music collections at Whole Foods."—Grayson Currin

Devendra Banhart's version of folk has always verged on being off-puttingly weird, and his attempts at globalism and experimentation on his major label debut provided obvious targets for Pitchfork's disappointed takedown. What Will We Be does have a few multicultural clunkers, but it's a pretty fitting introduction for a broad audience, with soft, accessible songs like "Can't Help But Smiling," "Goin' Back" and "First Song For B." It's certainly not nearly as weird or jumbled as this review makes it out to be, its global strains mostly coming as understated rhythms in otherwise straightforward songs. It can be easy to malign an album—especially a high-profile moment from a well-regarded niche artist—for indulging in some frustrating tangents rather than sticking to its core strengths, but there's nothing that strays so far here as to suggest it undermines Banhart's appeal.

Pitchfork Score: 6.7

Deserved Score: 8.4

Excerpt: "Johnny Goat's usual lyrical acuity also comes slightly short of his usual track record, as he unveils one of the best entries from his notebook of "Love is like..." similes (in this case, it's like "the border between Greece and Albania") only to later drop the dud, "People say friends don't destroy one another/ What do they know about friends?"—Rob Mitchum

Tallahassee got knocked for being a concept album, but anyone who's ever struggled to rationalize a flawed or destructive relationship after the fact will probably see it as much more than that. Like any great Southern Gothic work, it's richly evocative of its setting but also turns a specific feeling of doom into something universal. Songs like "No Children," "Southwood Plantation Road" and "Game Shows Touch Our Lives" are among the most immediately affecting of any tracks that John Darnielle has ever written. Rob Mitchum may have dismissed the easy lyricism of the "friends" line above, but it's a signature example of the way Darnielle can cut through his detailed vignettes and flashes of symbolism to devastate with a single moment of honesty. Anyone who's ever felt betrayed by someone close will find the album cathartic rather than contrived.

Pitchfork Score: 4.5

Deserved Score: 6.6

Excerpt: "The perfunctory Ibiza thump of 'Right Now' reflects badly on both her and producer David Guetta while 'Fresh Off the Runway' is capitalist braggadocio (nonsense grade) so static it borders on unmusical. The Auto-Tune on Future's 'Loveeeeeee Song' feature calls to a mind a dog vomiting while Rihanna, in turn, sounds like she's been roused from a medicated slumber."—Jessica Hopper

True to its marketing pitch, Rihanna's last album was heavily judged as a referendum on her personal life, and Jessica Hopper took a similar stance, interpreting the music as joyless, lonely, manufactured and borderline exploitative. It's true that Unapologetic doesn't have quite the same obvious hit power as some of Rihanna's other albums, but it does have some more interesting moments, from the dramatic crash of "Diamonds," to the icy shimmer of the Mike Will Made It-produced "Pour It Up," to Future's gorgeously weird turn on the emotionally spellbinding "Loveeeeee Song." Rihanna's never been an album artist anyway, but this is one of her most satisfying front-to-back efforts with many of her more fascinating deep cuts, such as the seven minute "Love Without Tragedy/Mother Mary."

Pitchfork Score: 5.1

Deserved Score: 8.0

Excerpt: "I will credit them where it's due: they've admirably eschewed cloning their debut album, a path that would have been all too easy to take given that record's critical and commercial success. But while the sound of this album is more expansive, the influences a bit less obvious, and the approach more varied, the guys forgot to tote along their initial strength: the songs."—Joe Tangari

Two of Pitchfork's most reliable critical stances are that whatever band the U.K. rock press is hyping is overrated (Alt-J anyone?) and that Coldplay is boring. A Rush of Blood to the Head, which is arguably Coldplay's best album and the source of two of its most beloved hits, got slapped with both distinctions (this was when there were critics really hyping the band, before the "boring" narrative fully took hold). The review completely overlooked the sweeping catharsis of "The Scientist" and the fragile coda "Amsterdam," which remains one of Chris Martin's most poignant and vulnerable songs. Parachutes may have been the album that made Coldplay famous, but their sophomore effort is a large part of why they became superstars. Contrary to what Pitchfork argued, it showed the band strengthening their songwriting and ramping up the excitement.

Pitchfork Score: 6.5

Deserved Score: 8.8

Excerpt: "Minaj is upstaged by Drake and Kanye West on 'Moment 4 Life' and 'Blazin', respectively, but these tracks—plus the Rihanna collaboration 'Fly' and the solo ballad 'Save Me'—are the best examples of what Pink Friday is rather than what many of us wanted it to be."—Scott Plagenhoef

Yes, Nicki Minaj's debut felt like a bit of a letdown based on the promise of a rapper who had already stacked up an impeccable resume of boundary-pushing guest verses and mixtape tracks, and then-Pitchfork-Editor-in-Chief Scott Plagenhoef's review expressed the same disappointment many felt on the first listen to this album. But Pink Friday mostly let her early fans down because in many ways it was an introduction to who Nicki Minaj was about to become: a pop star capable of wearing many different hats. It featured massive hits like "Moment 4 Life," "Right Thru Me" and the sleeper "Your Love," which may not have been the songs everyone was expecting from Nicki, but were part of what helped make her such a broad-based success. Most importantly, though, bonus track "Super Bass," which didn't even get a mention in the review, is one of the best pop songs of the last few years and still the biggest single of Nicki's career (it did get a revisionist “Best New Track” nod when it was released as a single the next spring). It's easy to write off a slightly disappointing album right after it comes out, but Pink Friday had more to offer than many first gave it credit for.

Pitchfork Score: 3.5

Deserved Score: 7.2

Excerpt: "But left to his own devices, he raps the same way the guy in your freshman dorm played guitar, absent-mindedly moving from one unrelated riff to the next, fixating on familiar phrasings, and just basically annoying the hell out of you. Some decent one-liners are sprinkled throughout, and somehow, hearing him do his trademark 'hah?' is about the only thing that never becomes tiresome. Otherwise, any French Montana verse is the sound of time being killed bar by bar."—Ian Cohen

Ian Cohen is right about one thing: French Montana is not a good rapper. Nor is he in any way the most memorable part of his debut album. He gets outrapped by everyone from Nicki Minaj to Ace Hood on Excuse My French. He even, as Cohen argued, sounds a little bit bored sometimes. But nobody was going into this album expecting it to be profound or game-changing. At a time when actual rap albums mean less and less, it's satisfying to hear a major label project come out that offers fun, if essentially meaningless, songs front to back. Whether it's a weird Chicago appropriation like "Paranoid," a shameless grab at The Weeknd's style on "Gifted" or the low-stakes mayhem of "Ballin' Out," these songs achieve their goals even if they don't innovate. Excuse My French may be little more than an excuse to turn up, but it doesn't deserve to be tuned out.