We’re six months into 2023, and Beyoncé’s Renaissance is still the best album of the year. Just kidding. Sorta kinda.

In all seriousness, 2023 has actually gifted us a number of really interesting, fun, and thought-provoking albums. While SZA (SOS), Morgan Wallen (One Thing at a Time), and Taylor Swift (Midnights) have kept the top of the Billboard 200 in a chokehold for most of the year, they aren’t the only records worthy of discussion.

This year, we’ve entered a new era of pandemic albums. Instead of the pandemic defining the release and promotion of most of this year’s records, our time in lockdown and isolation influenced the creation of these records. Now that we’re a bit farther removed from the peak of COVID-19, all of the interlocked emotions and musings of that era come to a head on these 2023 albums. There’s pain and loneliness to be sure, but there’s also a particularly strong gravity around these explorations of mortality, desire, pleasure, and destiny. From Lana Del Rey’s Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd to Monaleo’s Where The Flowers Don’t Die, so many of this year’s albums are intriguing time capsules of pandemic-induced existentialism. How do we want to be remembered? Do we want to be remembered? Will we be remembered? Does memory even matter? What’s the line between memory, fantasy, and fact?

All of these questions swirl around the best of 2023’s full-length projects, and although answers are few and far between, the music is pretty damn good.

Here are The Bulletin’s 15 best albums of 2023 so far:

15. The Age of Pleasure (Janelle Monáe)

Breezy, sexy, and always acutely aware of the laborious journey towards liberation, Janelle Monáe’s The Age of Pleasure is some of the singer’s most enjoyable work yet. Across their half-hour tryst, Janelle wines their waist to a sun-kissed soundtrack of amapiano pulses, roots reggae melodies, Afropop percussion, and West Indian riddims. For Janelle, the age of pleasure is also simultaneously an age of remembrance and an age of total presence. To unlock the full expanse of pleasure and all of its manifestations, Janelle dives headfirst into self-affirmations (“Haute”), alcohol-induced shit-popping (“Champagne Shit”), and a complete embrace of the multiplicity of the self (“Only Have Eyes 42”). Read the full review here. Listen to: “Phenomenal” and “The Rush”

14. Work of Art (Asake)

Normally, more of the same would draw jeers and eye rolls, but when it’s coming from Asake, how can you complain? The Nigerian star is operating in a very rare space. Work of Art, his third project in just 18 months, is every bit as great as the two excellent records that preceded it. Led by the hip-hop-inflected standout “2:30” and the party thumper "Amapiano,” Work of Art offers more of Asake’s unique Afrofusion blend of amapiano, fújì, and hip-hop. Even when he slows things down, as he does on the reflective “Awodi,” Asake’s voice holds a gravity that demands attention and heralds communal celebration. Asake is establishing himself as one of the most consistent artists of his class with this well-sequenced sophomore album. Listen to: “Olorun” and “Remember”

13. Never Enough (Daniel Caesar)

It’s really hard for Daniel Caesar to make a bad song. Several years removed from the controversy that derailed the momentum of his first two projects, Caesar arrives on Never Enough, his major label debut studio album, with a greater sense of maturity and more musical fearlessness. On the stunning “Always” he takes notes from the schmaltz of ‘70s R&B and turns it into a heart-bursting ballad for the ages. “Homiesexual” finds him exploring the vastness of male toxicity alongside Ty Dolla $ign, and “Cool” is an introspective moment that fills in a few blanks for why Caesar is the way he is. Easily amongst the year’s best offerings, particularly in the R&B realm, Never Enough is a triumph. Plain and simple. Read the full review here. Listen to: “Always” and “Buyers Remorse”

12. Where The Flowers Don’t Die (Monaleo)

Two years ago, Monaleo had a mini Song of the Summer with the delightfully raucous “Beating Down Yo Block.” With Where The Flowers Don’t Die, the Texan rapper has finally unleashed her very first body of work. A surprisingly layered mixtape that accounts for all of her different influences, Monaleo’s debut project courses through gospel interpolations, odes to the divine feminine, and blistering rapid-fire raps. Across the project, Monaleo displays her knack for thematic sequencing. The juxtaposition of the Flo Milli-featuring “Goddess,” and “Miss Understood,” which interpolates “He’s A Mighty God” by Joshua’s Troop, offer smart insight into the convergence of the secular and the sacred that shapes such a larger number of Gen Z artists. Listen to: “Miss Understood” and “Sober Mind”

11. A Gift & A Curse (Gunna)

Gunna was smart to make his first post-jail album rollout so lowkey. Unfortunately, no matter how hard he tried to control the narrative around this record, the swaths of idiots who refused to do anything resembling basic research were never going to give this album a fair shake. A Gift & A Curse is a very good record. Across the completely solo album, Gunna shows off why he has one of the best ears for beats in the whole rap game. From the chugging sound effects of “Ca$h $hit” to the stuttering hi-hats and valley girl ad-libs on “Fukumean,” A Gift & A Curse displays Gunna at his best — talking his shit over some of the most luxurious trap beats music can offer. This time around, however, Gunna expands his lyrical explorations beyond luxury watches and allegedly mind-blowing sex. "I heard the rumors sayin' I'm packin' up and flyin' out / We ain't goin' nowhere, I'm stayin' here, gon fight it out,” he raps on “Turned Your Back.” Give this album a spin, and if you’re confused about what an Alford Plea is, give that a Google while you’re at it. Listen to: “Back To The Moon” and “fukumean”

10. Soul,PRESENT. (Q)

Steve Marsden, the songwriter behind dancehall fusion hits such as “Never Leave You” and “No Letting Go,” is a towering talent, and his son, Q, is far from a nepo baby coasting on the talent and riches of his parents. Soul,PRESENT, his debut album, is an absolutely stunning and enrapturing body of work. The project sits at the intersection of R&B and ‘80s electro-funk with clear inspiration taken from the likes of Prince, Chromeo, and Rick James. Despite looking to the past, there is something unmistakably urgent and, for lack of a better word, present about this project. Between the conversational no-frills songwriting and song structures that ebb and flow with the vibrancy of fearless experimentation. His luscious vocal stacks weave themselves around Rhodes keys and glistening synths alike, ultimately sourcing their grounding rhythm from earthy 8-bit drum patterns. At once timeless and of its time, Soul,PRESENT is outstanding work. Listen to: “Stereo Driver” and “Today”

9. Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd (Lana Del Rey)

Lana Del Rey and existentialism is a combo that we’re all fairly familiar with, but the two entities have never melded together as well as they have on the Grammy-nominated singer’s most recent album. Did You Know That There’s A Tunnel Under Ocean Blvd is an album about memory and its utility, or lack thereof. On the standout double-header “A&W,” Lana traverses the annals of her childhood memories, and on “The Grants” she bridges several musical eras with her ruminations of carrying memories as a practice of legacy preservation. Lana’s ninth studio album takes all of the most beloved parts of her various musical evolutions and condenses them into what is arguably the most vulnerable and most human version of her Lana Del Rey persona. Read the full review here. Listen to: “Fishtail” and “A&W”

8. Desire, I Want To Turn Into You (Caroline Polachek)

Arguably the most adventurous pop album of the year, Caroline Polachek’s fourth studio album is a tour de force. Desire, I Want To Turn Into You exudes the kind of kaleidoscopic maximalism that makes pop music such arresting subject to study. From dashes of flamenco and hyperpop to sleek synths and a children’s choir, Desire, I Want To Turn Into You quite literally houses every musical motif one could imagine. Above all, the record is anchored by Caroline’s voice. Whether she’s shrinking to a whisper or creeping into the shrillest parts of her upper register, there is a whimsy that flows from her voice — a cloud of energy constantly pulsing with every emotion in the world at the same damn time. If that’s not desire, then what it is? Read the full review here. Listen to: “Billions” and “Crude Drawing Of An Angel”

7. THAT! FEELS GOOD! (Jessie Ware)

Jessie Ware’s fifth studio album begins with its title track. Hushed voices set the scene — a relatively posh dinner party where the suppression of pleasure is erotic in and of itself — with overlapping whispers repeating the phrase “that feels good.” Different voices place emphasis on different parts of the phrase, but Jessie gives us a clue with the stylization of the record’s title. Broken into two sentences, That! Feels Good! aims to emphasize that pleasure and its pursuit are the two most tantalizing parts of the human experience, and they’re nothing without each other. Jessie’s latest set arrives just as mainstream pop music seems to be finally letting go of its nu-disco pastiche era, yet she does it better than practically anyone else. With a focus on live instrumentation, a lush collection of background vocalists, and bawdy Italo disco influences, That! Feels Good! is the kind of freewheeling fantasia that can only be built on the dancefloor. Listen to: “That! Feels Good!” and “Begin Again”

6. My 21st Century Blues (RAYE)

You don’t title an album My 21st Century Blues unless you’re going to get into some shit. And that’s exactly what RAYE does on one of the most terrific concept albums of the young decade. Across the record, the British singer-songwriter infuses myriad forms of Black music — there’s gospel, funk, blues, soul, rock, and hip-hop — to anchor her explorations of environmental justice, bodily autonomy, drug abuse, sex, and, of course, the hellishly transformative experience she endued at her former record label. Steeped in the legacy of Amy Winehouse’s raspy earnestness, My 21st Century Blues is a brilliant listen in spite of its overarching melancholy. Listen to: “Buss It Down” and “Oscar Winning Tears”

5. Scaring the Hoes (Danny Brown & JPEGMAFIA)

It’s difficult to make chaos sound beautiful. It’s even more difficult trying to fashion beauty out of intentional chaos. And that’s exactly what Danny Brown and JPGEMAFIA’s collaborative album is — a chaotic, noisy, raucous, rowdy, just-short-of-senseless mess. And, my word, is it beautiful. For as much as Scaring the Hoes envelops itself in distortion with erratic song structures and shapeshifting vocal filters, the album is still a treat for the ears. “Fentanyl Tester” is a high-octane recontextualization of Kelis’ eternal “Milkshake,” and “Lean Beef Patty” does the same with a gritty rework of Diddy’s “I Need A Girl.” That’s the name of the game on Scaring the Hoes, break music down until its unrecognizable and then build those pieces into something radically new but equally alluring. Listen to: “Fentanyl Tester” and “Scaring the Hoes”

4. This Is Why (Paramore)

Many albums attempted to make sense of the collection of anxieties COVID-19 unleashed upon the world, but few had the voice of Hayley Williams on them, and even fewer came from bands with a legacy of sharp, heartfelt songwriting like Paramore. With This Is Why, their sixth studio album, Paramore continues their evolution. They’re older and wiser, but just as stubborn. Sometimes. At times, they find peace in the idiosyncratic habits that make them unique, as they do on “C’est Comme Ça,” and other times, the band explores how toxic relationships can quickly become as immobilizing as quicksand. The new wave influences of After Laughter may be cast in a darker hue on This Is Why, but they still provide a level of levity that helps Paramore navigate the wasteland that is modern living Read the full review here. Listen to: “Liar” and “Crave”

3. Clear 2: Soft Life (Summer Walker)

Summer Walker, one of the most consistent artists in contemporary R&B, sounds better stripped down. For get the Auto-Tuned murmurs and borderline incomprehensible enunciation. She sounds best on projects like Clear 2. Not because she’s doing her best Erykah Badu tribute (although that certainly helps), but because she sounds, well, clear. Backed by dry acoustic guitars and light percussion, Summer spends most of her sequel to 2019’s original Clear EP exploring the sticking intricacies of contemporary Black romance. Childish Gambino pops up for some role play on “New Type,” and “Hardlife” functions as an anthem of solidarity amongst Black women. But it is “Set Up (2017,)” with its vulnerable recounting of Summer’s pre-fame days, that puts into perspective just how layered her voice truly is. Read the full review here. Listen to: “Set Up (2017)” and “To Summer, From Cole”

2. Raven (Kelela)

The revival of dance music in the mainstream has been one of the defining elements of the young decade, but the revival’s focus on reclamation is what makes it such a pivotal moment. On her sophomore album, Kelela fashions a sanctuary for the Black queer creators of dance music and all of its illustrious subcultures. She hurtles through flirtations with U.K. garage, house, dembow riddims, dancehall, R&B, hip-hop, and ambient music as she parses through the kind of philosophical musings only she can handle. Kelela baptizes herself in a sea of synths, a shimmering oasis where her individual self is cared for, loved on, and healed. “Let It Go” presents jazzy bass guitar to cradle Kelea’s coos, and “On the Run,” which features production from KAYTRANADA, transports Kelela to a sweaty, bustling horned-up bashment party, a stunning parallel to the tantalizing pregame soundtrack that is “Contact.” On “Closure,” she holds space for Black trans woman rapper Rahrah Gabor to deliver a sultry guest verse that acts as the ultimate site of the album’s reclamation of dance music’s Black queer roots. It’s a stunning exercise, equal parts archival and innovative. At once an accurate retelling of the past and a glorious vision for the future, Raven is simply fantastic. Read the full review here. Listen to: “Holier” and “On the Run”

1. Foutain Baby (Amaarae)

 With genre lines becoming increasingly blurred — sometimes beyond recognition — albums that explore entire sonic universes instead of situating themselves in genre-induced stasis are often the most rewarding. Fountain Baby, Amaarae’s stunning sophomore studio album is precisely that. A daring amalgam of contemporary R&B, rock, amapiano, Afrobeats, and dance, Fountain Baby is full of all the luster and verve that comes with taking on the summertime in your 20s. On “Co-Star,” she offers a sequel to Beyoncé’s classic take on the Zodiac calendar with her own sultry ode to the elements as she sings, “Fire how you move your body / Down to earth but way too high / The water on my neck, come make it warm, it's warm.” The album closes with “Come Home To God,” yet another song that sits at the intersection of secularism and religion that has shaped the lives of millennials and Gen Z alike. Whether she’s heating up the dancefloor or waxing poetic about the intricacies of sex and romance, there are few 2023 albums that feel as alive as Amaarae’s Fountain Baby. Listen to: “Princess Going Digital” and “Come Home To God”