Best Albums of the 2020s (So Far)
- Daniel Woodiwiss
- Jul 15
- 17 min read
Here are words that feel truly surreal to say: we're officially halfway through the decade. A little over halfway at this point, given that we're a couple weeks into July. We're as close to the year 2030 as we are far away from COVID-19 reaching American shores yet. Time warp, right?
Anyhow, in recognition of the midway point, and with a nod to the recent viral New York Times ranking of films of the 21st century, I wanted to mark this half-decade, one that has been marked by as much magical cinema and music as it has horrendous sociopolitical times, with an assessment of the best of the best of the 2020s to date. Tomorrow I will throw my two cents in the movie discussion the Times set off with their ranking, but today, I wanted to start in the music world with my favorite albums. I went back and forth on how big to make this list, but settled on a Top 20 to cut myself off from simply naming every album I loved, and also because it made mathematic sense: if the NYT did 100 films for 25 years, it makes sense to scale this list down to 20 for 5 years. Besides, there's some poetry in "20 for the '20s."
Before we get into the rankings, an "honorable mention" tier of 10 albums that were deeply in consideration for this list, and just missed the cut. Listed alphabetically, not in ranked order:
brat // Charli XCX (2024)
Dawn FM // The Weeknd (2022)
Deeper Well // Kacey Musgraves (2024)
Harry's House // Harry Styles (2022)
It's Almost Dry // Pusha T (2022)
Let's Start Here. // Lil Yachty (2023)
Prelude to Ecstasy // The Last Dinner Party (2024)
the record // boygenius (2023)
SOUR // Olivia Rodrigo (2021)
Un verano sin ti // Bad Bunny (2022)
Now, to the Top 20!
And in the Darkness, Hearts Aglow // Weyes Blood (2022)
Weyes Blood is definitely what many would consider "mood music," and I don't know that I will always be in the mood to queue up this album. But for your more somber, peaceful, quietly angsty moods, this is a perfect album. The ethereal singer could sing the phone book and I'd listen breathlessly, but when coupled with gorgeous lyrics and a California soft-rock style, the effect is all the more potent. If it seems this album has slipped at all in my estimation of it since placing at # 3 in my Best Albums of 2022, that is likely only down to how much I have instead returned to her 2019 masterpiece Titanic Rising.
MONTERO // Lil Nas X (2021)
Many skeptics assumed that Lil Nas X was a one-trick pony after the wild popularity of his goofy single "Old Town Road," and I'll confess, I was one of them. With his sophomore release, though, he proved all haters wrong in a major way; lead single "Montero (Call Me By Your Name)," with its unabashedly queer themes and music video, took the nation by storm much in the way "Old Town Road" did, albeit for a much different reason. Summer release "Industry Baby" also topped the charts, and it was clear that Nas's forthcoming full-length debut had star potential. Sure enough, MONTERO not only sold well, reaching #2 on the charts, it's downright good. Montero Hill is indisputably a brilliant Internet presence, but he proved how deft he is as a musician as well, with this release. MONTERO is equal parts emotional and hilarious, brash and insecure, and the artist slides effortlessly between rap, punk rock, and emotional pop.
Did you know that there's a tunnel under Ocean Blvd. // Lana Del Rey (2023)
This album hasn't seemed to generate quite as much breathless word-of-mouth as 2019's Norman Fucking Rockwell! did, but was nearly as universally acclaimed, and considering how few believed she would be able to top her 'magnum opus' from four years ago, that's no small feat. Did you know... plays like NFR's spiritual successor, and in truth, I think I have my slow acceptance of that album's brilliance to thank for my rapid acceptance of this one. This isn't going to be a record you can just pop on at a party and expect everyone to get down to. But if you're in the mood for quiet, contemplative artistry, you won't find a better provider in general than Miss Lana, whose honeyed vocals pair so well with her words, both barbed and introspective, in equal measure. The religious interludes (a gospel choir opens the album, snippets from a megachurch pastor's sermon make up an entire track on the album, church music samples run throughout the tracklist) add even more heft and nuance to the enigmatic del Rey, an underrated and under-appreciated poet of our time.
Alligator Bites Never Heal // Doechii (2024)
There's not a whole lot that Doechii has in common with fellow 2024 breakout and Best New Artist nominee Chappell Roan, save for one thing: just as we did with the campy pop star, once Doechii exploded onto the scene, many of us asked ourselves "how are we just now hearing about her?!?" So evident was her talent in this, her full-length debut. In Alligator Bites, the Florida-born artist proves equally adept as a rapper, a singer, and a storyteller-- and, in her electric Grammys performance of a medley of the album's songs, a generational performer.
Women in Music, Pt. III // HAIM (2020)
While I had heard of them for some years beforehand, 2020's Women In Music was somehow my real introduction to HAIM, and what a way to get acquainted. The Grammy-nominated album puts the sister trio's musical versatility and deftness on full display, in a way previous albums hadn't, and ensuing releases still haven't been able to match. Rock, Funk, and Folk and more all make appearances on Women In Music, and HAIM pass off each genre flawlessly.
HIT ME HARD AND SOFT // Billie Eilish (2024)
With everything she does, my appreciation for Billie Eilish grows, as does my belief that she's truly a unicorn. She has a more impressive body of work and number of accolades at 22 years old than most artists, especially pop artists, have in their entire career. She's the rare pop star who is mega famous, doesn't seem to hate the fame, and yet, also very much does not chase it. Her non-musical public appearances are almost exclusively to support worthy political candidates and activist causes. And oh yeah...she's damn good at this music thing. Her voice is uniquely gorgeous, but hers and her brother/co-collaborator Finneas's style is also completely different from most everything we've heard on pop radio. Hit Me Hard And Soft came with far less fanfare and promotion than either of her first two albums, but still managed to spawn multiple hit singles, and plays like a record borne out of a couple years of self-discovery and shying away from the public eye. There's so much mature lyricism and such prodigious musicality from start to finish that you could be forgiven for not remembering that she's still only the age of a senior in college.
The Forever Story // JID (2022)
This was, for most, the undisputed best Hip-Hop release of the year 2022, and in fact, I would not be surprised in the least if more than one outlet still consider this the best Rap album of the decade thus far. Personally, perhaps because of its relative lack of musical variety in comparison to its peers, I have returned to this album less often, but each time I do, I am reminded of how masterful JID's lyricism and thematic storytelling is in this, his seminal body of work thus far. Forever Story deserved every amount of hype it received, and props up JID as a strong contender for the Rap throne's heir apparent.
Desire, I Want to Turn Into You // Caroline Polachek (2023)
Very few albums struck me as memorable in 2023, and arguably none won me over on first listen. But for one exception: if it didn't immediately grip me on first listen, it surely wasn't later than the second listen that Caroline Polachek's fourth album (as a solo artist) floored me. The alt-pop star has been adored in indie and alternative circles for some time now, but with Desire, she made a genuine play for the hyperpop throne. A wild, sweeping tracklist plays like a cosmic gumbo of the best instincts from the likes of Björk, Enya, Charli XCX and even Shakira. There are fast songs, there are slow songs, there are happy songs, there are sad songs, there are horny songs, there are heartache songs. But you know what songs don't appear? Bad songs.
Mr. Morale & the Big Steppers // Kendrick Lamar (2022)
After a 5-year break from releasing a new solo effort and generally from being in the public eye, Kendrick Lamar, arguably the present-day King of Rap re-emerged with Mr Morale & The Big Steppers in 2022, and it was...not what anybody expected. This is intentionally not an album for those craving a radio hit; it's a 70-minute therapy session, in which the artist explicates his own state of being and offers fans and critics alike some insight into why he briefly stepped away from the limelight right at the height of his fame and esteem. It’s Kendrick at his most stripped-down and vulnerable, and it’s as powerful as ever. The reality is that I genuinely have no real criticism of Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers; it’s not because this is the greatest album ever made, nor even his greatest album, arguably (I hate to compare incredible works of art, but I would personally have both good kid m.A.A.d city and To Pimp A Butterfly edging it still). There's just nothing wrong with it, though. The production, as always, is immaculate, and though there may not be as many commercial hits, it’s his most fully realized, consistent album yet, and a work of art so vulnerable that to critique it almost feels like criticizing the man more than the artist.
Sometimes I Might Be Introvert // Little Simz (2021)
The fourth studio album from British rapper Little Simz is hard-hitting and grand, and yet personal and genuine at the same time. It's a touch bloated at 19 tracks, but as a body of work it's easily among the most impressive of the year. This record has perhaps the highest delta of any in this article between "how good I thought it was upon the first couple listens" to "how highly I think of it now": from # 7 on my Best Albums to 2021 to # 11 of the entire half-decade!
folklore // Taylor Swift (2020)
2020 was the year of the unbelievable, but trust me when I say one of the things that stunned me the most was that I not only willingly listened to a Taylor Swift album, I actually enjoyed it. I'll spare you the whole self-flagellation and soul-searching that I already performed, and instead focus on why I like folklore so much. It features genuinely terrific songwriting and imagery to an extent that I had always heard Swift was capable of, but never witnessed for myself. And true to its name, folklore plays like a quiet, introspective record you'd put on while sipping on hot tea in a log cabin in Maine, a soothing-- albeit heartbreaking -- balm in a turbulent year. This album earned Taylor a then-record third Grammy for Album of the Year, and it was the only instance of her now 4 wins where I nodded and said, "Yeah, deserved."
SOS // SZA (2022)
After a five-year-plus hibernation, SZA finally re-emerged in late 2022 to bless us with new music. Her second album was absolutely worth the wait. SOS features the same heartbreaking lyrical vulnerability and delicious vocals that made us fall in love with Ctrl back in 2017, but with even more maturity and introspection in the former, and even more musical variety in the latter. There's little-to-no filler in this album, just an hour-plus of smooth listening. Its success set off a well-deserved massive couple years for the new queen of R&B, featuring two worldwide stadium tours (the latest in tandem with Kendrick Lamar), a Super Bowl Halftime Show appearance with Lamar, beaucoup Grammy nominations, and a well-received "B-sides" album Lana.
Shore // Fleet Foxes (2020)
It almost hurts to think back on more hopeful times in these heavy days, but Shore came at such a poignant moment in life for me. The closing months of 2020 felt like approaching the light at the end of the tunnel; the holiday season was approaching, COVID vaccines had begun to roll out, a white nationalist fascist had just been voted out of power, and then my longtime folk-rock favorites quietly releases a surprise album that played like a deep heavy exhale at the end of one of the hardest years on record. Considering the few albums I had been really excited to listen to that year turned out to be just okay, and the few albums I found great from 2020 weren't ones I had previously held a whole lot of anticipation for, it was an even more pleasant surprise that this album exceeded my expectations. Shore saw Fleet Foxes simultaneously returning to the brilliant harmonies and musicality that made them so great in the first place, and expanding in depth of both sound and lyrics, with themes of both pained wistfulness and inspired hope rolling throughout the album.
COWBOY CARTER // Beyoncé (2024)
I'll admit some recency bias here: I'm not even 2 weeks removed from having my mind blown by seeing the Cowboy Carter tour live, on July 4th, which probably vaulted it at least a few spots higher than it would have been if I wrote this article in June, and several spots higher than it would have been if I wrote it back in February, before COWBOY CARTER became the album to finally earn Beyoncé her criminially overdue Album of the Year Grammy. Now, disclaimers aside, I'll confess the leadup to COWBOY CARTER's release had me anxious. This was to be Beyoncé's defiant response to feeling rejected by the American country scene, a scene whose music she grew up immersed in, and while I loved the vision, it seemed bound to be so different from anything she had done that the thought kept nagging at me "...what if it isn't good? What if the country world and critics alike all laugh at her?" Silly me. I should have known better than to doubt Bey's quality in the midst of a truly legendary run of albums. The 'country-and-everything-else' album was a masterful second installment of her "Renaissance" trilogy. Sure, it didn't change the hearts or minds of conservative-coded Country Music World, it strayed from keeping country as the central focus, and at 80 minutes, there's bound to be some filler. But the lyrical themes are cohesive as can be, and the musical mastery requires a level of artistry that truly only Beyoncé possesses. There's a certian poetry in this one being the album to break Bey's Grammys duck.
The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess // Chappell Roan (2023)
Chappell Roan's debut studio album came out in late 2023, but I was just one among many who had literally never even heard of Chappell Roan until about 14 months ago. 2024 was the year of Chappell; the young pop star with an incredible voice, a give-no-fucks attitude and a proclivity for drag queen homages completely took the world by storm last year with a meteoric rise that was fueled by opening for friend and labelmate Olivia Rodrigo on her wildly successful tour, and the release of new single "Good Luck, Babe!". Her sudden fame could not have been more warranted, though, and neither could the belated acclaim for, acceptance and popularity of Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess. She is a genuine songwriting and vocal talent we have not seen the likes of, arguably, since Lady Gaga exploded onto the scene some 15 years ago, and Midwest Princess is the epitome of a "no-skips" album. Genuinely- I defy you to find a song whose exclusion from the tracklist would be justified. Smash hit "HOTTOGO!" is probably my least-favorite song on the record, and even that one goes too hard at parties and weddings for me to dislike it. That level of consistent banger-dom is exceedingly rare in a pop album, especially a pop album that changes directions stylistically as often as this one. This is on my Mt. Rushmore of pop records from the 2020s, no doubt.
Long Lost // Lord Huron (2021)
I had long been casually aware of Lord Huron, but was never an avid fan or listener, so I definitely didn't expect their 2021 album to top my year-end rankings. I don't know what it was about Long Lost that hit me the way it did, but it felt like a balm to listen to in the context of the last couple years preceding it. I suspect I'd been primed for it already, though; one thing that happened during intense quarantining in 2020 was I rediscovered my love of indie-folk, the kind of music that so thoroughly dominated my music tastes nearly a decade ago. Long Lost felt like a throwback (it still seems weird to use that word to describe my high-school days, but in the words of Billie Eilish, "I'm getting older") to the golden days of indie music, when Fleet Foxes, My Morning Jacket, and The Head and the Heart, to name just a few, were pumping out these sorts of beautiful, acoustic evocative albums regularly. Each and every one of its tracks is original and intriguing, and it's often expansive musically while lyrically, remaining nothing but introspective. The album ends with a fourteen minute wordless soundscape, and the fact that it somehow it doesn't feel the least bit pretentious but rather a natural extension of the tone set by all preceding tracks speaks to just how much peace and relaxation a record like this can bring.
GNX // Kendrick Lamar (2024)
I was already ready to etch the year 2024 into the music history books, when, in the penultimate week of November, the greatest rapper in the game decided to fuck around and drop a surprise album. GNX's sole promotion was a 30-second teaser on social media that dropped approximately an hour before the full album...unless, of course, if you count the year that Kendrick Lamar had already had as promotion. And perhaps we should: none of the songs from Kendrick's legendary beef with Drake were on this album, but the same bravado, cutting lyricism, black excellence and hometown pride that fueled his comprehensive 'win' and iconic victory tour afterward shine throughout this record. K-Dot's status in the hip-hop world has largely been earned on the back of unmatched lyrical genius, and in that regard, GNX has nothing on any of its predecessors in terms of storytelling. This is not to say the lyrics are bad-- Kendrick's 'worst' is probably better than 95% of today's music world's best --rather that, perhaps for the first time in his career, they seem to take a backseat in significance to the theme of L.A./West Coast pride, the expansive production and trap beats, and to showcasing several lesser-known West Coast artists. In other words, is this a "classic" like good kid, m.A.A.d city or To Pimp A Butterfly, or a complex, layered body of work like DAMN. or Mr. Morale? Not necessarily. But what it is is an unbelievably sleek album, and the smoothest listen of any work he's released since good kid. I can't even tell you how many times I've re-listened to this work in the last 9 months, and that was even BEFORE seeing it in person at Kendrick's electric show in tandem with SZA.
Future Nostalgia // Dua Lipa (2020)
2020, for obvious reasons, was a year unlike any other, and it changed-- even for just a window in time -- how we listen to music and how it lands with us. Future Nostalgia was the first new album I listened to in 2020, after spending the first several months of the year simply recycling my favorite tracks from the year before. It stayed at #1 for the entire rest of the year, despite there being north of 20 opportunities for another album to top it. It's that good. I'm not a full-on snark or hipster, but I do tend to be a little wary of the ever-growing 'poptimism' in recent years. That said, I have also come to appreciate the artistry behind and significance of good pop music, especially in a year that was mostly confined to our walls of our own homes and trying to manufacture different outlets of happiness in order to not go crazy. And this? This was damn good pop music. Dua Lipa's album lives up to its name, as track after track plays like something that will, even a decade on from now, come up on a playlist and make you go "Oooo yeah, remember this song? I loved this one!" Pandemic memories or not, you'll be hard-pressed not to dance from start to finish on this record that combines elements of early Lady Gaga and Robyn's Body Talk with Dua Lipa's rich, addictive vocals. This modern-day classic launched the young Brit from "future of Pop" into the forefront of superstardom, where she still resides.
Only God Was Above Us // Vampire Weekend (2024)
Last year, we finally got an answer to the question, "is Daniel capable of ranking an album from anyone other than Beyoncé or Kendrick Lamar at # 1 in a year-end ranking?" And it's true that, while I have been a fan of Vampire Weekend for some 15+ years, had you told me at the start of the year the names of who would be releasing an album in 2024, I would have guessed this one might end up somewhere around the bottom half of my Top 10. But by god, Vampire Weekend's fifth studio album-- only their second in the last decade --floored me. VW's discography, which spans 17 years, really doesn't have a miss, but Only God Was Above Us might just be their best work yet. Despite often being typecast by agnostics and haters as obnoxiously twee, Ezra Koenig and co. have always been proficient musicians and have only gotten increasingly interesting, both lyrically and musically, over the years. This latest project plays like the natural successor to my former two favorite Vampire Weekend albums: coupling the explosive peppiness of Contra with the dark reverb and existential lyricism of Modern Vampires of the City. In a particularly heavy year, both personally and globally, I had so many lyrics from this record pass through my head:
"Untrue, unkind and unnatural/How the cruel, with time, becomes classical" ...
"The World looked different when God was on your side" ...
"Each generation writes their own apology" ...
"Your consciousness is not my problem/'Cause when I come home, it won't be home to you" ...
"The embassy's abandoned now/The flag that flew is on the ground/The painting burned, the statue drowned/I hope you let it go"
I love this album so much and have already returned to it so much more than I anticipated; if you love wildly original music and insightful storytelling, I trust you will, too.
RENAISSANCE // Beyoncé (2022)
That said, when it comes to (half-)decade rankings... I'm still going with Beyoncé at #1. HA! Are we surprised? Queen B is in the midst of a truly all-time, and I mean, all-time stretch of albums. I have enough Beyoncé skeptics (and even a few haters) in my life to know that such a sentiment will elicit more than a few eyerolls, but hear this: there is nobody out there today, and very few at any point in history that could have released 4 consecutive albums like she has, from 2013's self-titled up through 2024's COWBOY CARTER: each jam-packed with unforgettable tracks, so musically rich and varied, so tirelessly crafted around a groundbreaking theme, and each radically different from one another.
My personal favorite of that elite bunch, though, was 2022's RENAISSANCE, a sentiment I probably would not have believed I was sharing after my initial listen to it. We're coming up on the three-year anniversary of its release, and I remember listening to it right away, and having an experience I have never had upon first listen of Beyoncé album: "... I don't know that I liked that." It just was SO different than I expected! At that time, it had been a good six years since her last solo release, and I was mentally prepared for a continuation for the lush, heartbreaking depth and vocal ballad prowess of 2016's Lemonade. What I got instead was 62 straight minutes of dance hall, house, sweaty, cocky, proud, shit-talkin', ass-shakin' music. But you know what? I should have known the greatest entertainer of our time, with the employ of the filthiest production I’ve heard in ages, would eventually wear me down if it didn’t win me over right away. An ode to queer and black identity, and an homage to multiple family members, Beyoncé irreversibly changed the game once more with RENAISSANCE. The album puts you on notice from the first beat and doesn’t let you go without first breaking a sweat on the dance floor. All these years and plays and replays and replays and replays later, I still can’t go much more than a week without listening to this album, and when I'm listening to this album, I'm listening to it start to finish.
As you may have expected, I couldn't help myself from compiling yet another grand playlist associated with a music listicle! If you're a Spotify user, you can find a playlist consisting of my 5 faves from each of this half-decade's Top 20 albums here. And if, like me, you have made the exodus to Apple Music, your link is right here.
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