On the title track of Alabama Shakes’s sophomore release, frontwoman Brittany Howard sings, a little wonderingly: “A new world hangs outside the window.” This might as well be a mission statement for the album, which updates the rootsy, retro Muscle Shoals-revivalism of their 2012 debut “Boys & Girls” with a brand-new, futuristic soundscape: a sort of progressive, psychedelic soul. There is a looser, more exploratory quality to this album, which features, among other tracks, a six and a half minute cosmic odyssey entitled “Gemini.” At the helm is Howard, with her virtuosic lead singing and guitar-playing—she has a wonderfully dynamic and expressive range: everything from an earthy visceral vitality to an eerie otherworldly falsetto—keeping things just this side of chaos. This sonic experimentation pays off powerfully: “Sound & Color” is an altogether weirder, wilder, and more wonderful release, an incredible follow-up to a very strong debut. —Amy J. Cohn
5. "If You're Reading This It's Too Late," Drake
While “If You’re Reading This It’s Too Late” sounds eerily similar to a suicide note, Drake’s fourth album is a rousing reminder that the rapper’s career is far from dead. An amalgamation of delicate synths, technology-inspired sound effects, and foreboding harmonies, the surprise release is Drake’s darkest––and most exciting––work yet. Over seventeen tracks, the rapper displays unexpected thematic range, vacillating between unabashed self-promotion (“I got a backyard where money seems to come from the trees”) to Kanye West takedowns (“I’m never ever scared to get some blood on my leaves”) to quiet contemplation with impressive ease. While “Late” lacks the radio-ready hits that peppered previous efforts, the album stands as a testament to Drake’s growth as an artist: Listening to the moving, breathtakingly honest “You & the 6,” it’s clear hip-hop’s favorite Canadian has come far from his debut days. —Shaun V. Gohel
4. "Beneath the Skin," Of Monsters and Men
Brooding lyrics and complexly layered instrumentals in “Beneath the Skin” are, at first glance, a stark departure from the hand-clapping choruses that marked Of Monsters and Men’s freshman effort. In this second album, co-lead singer Nanna Bryndís Hilmarsdóttir takes up the lion’s share of vocal duties, exuding wistfulness, melancholia, and painstaking introspection. The five-piece band (nine while on tour) has certainly demonstrated a willingness to probe deeper with their music—throughout this album’s valedictions and ballads and lamentations, their once-effervescent nature imagery now takes a backseat to songs dominated by dirge-like percussion. It’s only after a couple of repeat listens that “Beneath the Skin” starts to seem intimately familiar and warm after all. —Alan R. Xie
3. "Beauty Behind the Madness," The Weeknd
2015 was the year that Abel Tesfaye, or The Weeknd, rose from the ashes of his prior image as prodigal son of drugged-up indie R&B to become a veritable Top 40 tour de force. Tesfaye wormed his way into the public consciousness in late 2014 by way of the hypnotic Ariana Grande collab “Love Me Harder,” and he’s held his own ever since with his second studio full-length, “Beauty Behind the Madness.” Lead single (and according to Rolling Stone magazine, thinly veiled cocaine ode) “Can’t Feel My Face” excels as a standout among standouts, but the whole album is one finely tuned balancing act: just PBR&B enough to keep the hipsters interested, and just pop enough to keep everyone else listening. —Victoria Lin
2. "Hamilton," Original Broadway Cast
The prodigious social significance of Lin-Manuel Miranda’s “Hamilton” is perhaps best exemplified by The Rockefeller Foundation’s willingness to subsidize tickets for 20,000 New York City public school students to attend the show. For many young people who see “Hamilton,” it may be the first time they have witnessed themselves represented on stage, on account of Miranda’s choice to cast a person of color in every named role (bar King George, of course). With an astonishing degree of historical accuracy, Miranda crafts parallels between the life of Founding Father Alexander Hamilton and the modern immigrant experience: In particular, his depiction of Hamilton’s downfall in the second half of the play illustrates with stunning poignancy the extent to which the deck is stacked against those born with disadvantage. When Leslie Odom Jr.’s Aaron Burr, with Tony-worthy emotion, realizes after his deadly duel with Hamilton that “the world was wide enough for both Hamilton and me,” he encapsulates Miranda’s thesis: that immigrants have just as much potential as U.S.-born citizens to change the course of their country’s history. —Grace E. Huckins
1. "To Pimp a Butterfly," Kendrick Lamar
Kendrick Lamar is the champion of the best trends in contemporary hip-hop. Glossy production and brilliant lyrics with content of ambitious scope mix explosively in this year’s “To Pimp a Butterfly,” an album that will be remembered as the landmark moment when Flying Lotus-style experimentation came together with West Coast-style spitting to take rap to a new level. Single “King Kunta” exemplifies this combination: With bumping rhythm, seamless Parliament samples, and flawless rhymes, Lamar weaves a complex commentary on black history and empowerment that is still a musical delight. —Jude D. Russo