Greatest R Amp;b Albums Of All Time

[Cesar Sergeantson]

COMPLEXparticipates in various affiliate marketing programs, which means COMPLEX gets paid commissions on purchases made through our links to retailer sites. Our editorial content is not influenced by any commissions we receive.

We've said it before, and we'll say it again: There's something special about '90s R&B. It's difficult to pinpoint why, exactly. It's not like it was new. The genre, which was given a name in 1948 by Jerry Wexler, who wanted to call it something other than "race music," has been in practice since at least the '30s. So what made the stuff of '90s so noteworthy? Perhaps it was the collision of rap, new jack swing, gospel, and soul that stretched the genre wide open. Or maybe it's because it felt like R&B ruled the world back then.

It's the decade in which megastars like Mary J. Blige, R. Kelly, and Mariah Carey all came into their own. It was a time when label rosters overflowed with talented artists from every corner of the country. It was when groups were not only plentiful but successful. Movie soundtracks were buoyed by R&B. But most importantly, it was when we got a great number of modern-day classics released from everyone, from legends like Sade to rookies like Faith Evans. While Johnny Gill was reinventing himself, Tevin Campbell was just getting started.

Now that we're far enough removed from the decade, it's time to look back and decide which albums were good, great, and best. On this list you'll find albums that were life soundtracks, from road trips and gradutions, to first loves and breakups. From Aaliyah to Xscape, these are the best R&B albums of the '90s.

It's the album that launched a million runs. "Vision of Love" opened Mariah Carey's eponymous debut in 1990 and gave an entire generation of would-be divas something to sing into their hairbrushes. Beyonce says it's the song that made her want to want to go pro; Rihanna sings it in the shower; Christina Aguilera cited it as her first inspiration. Aside from launching the five-octave songbird's career, that single impacted vocal (over-)performances from there until eternity.

Before Sean Combs was Puff Daddy, face of Bad Boy Records, he was a talent scout for Andre Harrell's Uptown Records, where Yonkers-born singer Mary J. Blige was his protege. Mary's debut, What's the 411?, was an early indication of what Sean's empire would look like: she sang slick jazzy runs reminiscent of Anita Baker, but the production underfoot hit hard enough for an MC to flow over. The pairing was as natural as Henny and apple juice, as the "Top Billin'" sampling smash hit "Real Love" would bear out billowing from stereos throughout the summer of '92.

In 1997, Mariah Carey was one of the most bankable stars in music. Her first six albums each moved at least four million copies. The songstress couldn't miss. The time seemed ripe for her to launch her own imprint. The venture was christened Crave Records and housed under Sony Music Entertainment. The label's first signee came curtesy of Poke, one half of the platinum production duo the Trackmasters, who thought a NYC-based female quartet he named Allure had what it took to become a success. He was sort of right.

Allure's self-titled first album was a powerhouse of a project. Primarily produced by Tone and Poke (the Trackmasters handled 10 of the 14 tracks), it featured an assemblage of some of the most popular hip-hop samples. The album's lead single, "Head Over Heels," which featured Nas, was built around M.C. Shan's "The Bridge." The third single, "No Question," a beautifully harmonized upbeat groove featuring LL Cool J was based on MTume's "Juicy Fruit." The thinking went, we imagine, "if you like early Mary J. Blige and rap, you'll like this" Not a bad formula.

New Edition was an R&B Wu-Tang Clan: when the group went on hiatus after 1988's N.E. Heartbreak, its members unleashed a train of formidable solo and splinter projects, from Bobby Brown's post-departure classic Don't Be Cruel through Ralph Tresvant's Sensitivity and Johnny Gill's self-titled debut. Ronnie, Ricky, and Mike struck gold (platinum, actually) as Bell Biv Devoe, unleashing a string of heaters on their group debut Poison.

After carving out a lane for themselves with their self-titled debut album, the four guys from Baltimore rightfully shot for the stars on their sophomore project. Instead of enlisting a bevy of songwriters and producers, they opted to handle most of the duties on their own. It was the first album for which they were the executive producers. The results varied. The album wasn't packed end-to-end with slow to mid-tempo grooves that either bounced or swayed. Enter the Dru tried to have it all.

The first single, "How Deep is Your Love," which was also featured on the Rush Hour soundtrack was something new for the group as it featured skittering drums, Latin guitar, and more salacious lyrics they were ever used to singing ("He can't make it get wetter than me, but I bet he keep telling you he better than me.") After finding success with the So So Def remix to "In My Bed" and Foxy Brown's "Big Bad Mama," the group called on fellow Island Def Jam labelmates Method Man and Redman to contribute features. Everything felt a bit more rough around the edges than on Dru Hill.

Very few people were cooler than Babyface in 1993. Thanks to the lasting success of his second solo album, 1989's Tender Lover, Kenneth Edmonds was one of the most indemand songwriters and producers in music. Among other projects released '93, he produced the soundtrack to Eddie Murphy's cult classic Boomerang. He also put a young woman by the name of Toni Braxton on the road to stardom by creating for her some of the best and most memorable songs of the '90s. And then there was the album he created for himself.

Zhan's debut album Pronounced Jah-Nay struck at the precise moment the early '90s hip-hop soul boom began to coalesce into what we'd come to call "neo-soul." The duo of Renee Neufville and Jean Norris dispensed cool close harmonies with help on production from their Flavor Unit cohorts in Naughty by Nature. Pronounced Jah-Nay struck a balance between tasteful smooth jazz elements (see: samples of George Benson and Grover Washington Jr.) and hip-hop ones. Early singles "Hey Mr. D.J." and "Groove Thang" are rollerskating jams toasting the nightlife, but Pronounced was about more than clubbing.

Toni Braxton, among many others, owes Anita Baker a major debt of gratitude. And not for the reasons you may think. While performing in a group with her four sisters, the eldest Braxton caught the attention of L.A. Reid and Babyface, who were working to build their new label LaFace Records. They recruited the young Maryland singer to sing "Love Should Have Brought You Home," a song Babyface wrote for Baker to sing for the Boomerang soundtrack. Baker had declined due to her pregnancy, so Babyface was on the hunt for someone who could match the legend's powerfully elegant vocals. Braxton fit the bill perfectly.

A year later, she released her highly anticipated solo debut. Primarily written and produced by L.A. Reid and Babyface, the album was stacked with hits. In addition to the aforementioned "Love Should Have Brought You Home," there was "Breathe Again," "Another Sad Love Song," "Seven Whole Days," "You Mean the World to Me," and "I Belong to You." That's literally half of the album. People like to note that the album drops off a cliff after the run of singles end. While "Best Friend" is a bit too adult contemporary and feels overwrought and out of place, as if it should be on a Celine Dion album, it's a fallacy to claim it's a bad song. Other non-singles like the new jack swing-ish "Spending All My Time With You" would have been standouts on any other album in the same way Pippen would have been a star on any other team.

It's worth noting that The Writing's on the Wall, the second album from Destiny's Child, has one of the more embarrassing intros of any '90s R&B album. If you've winced at Pain in da Ass's Tony Montana impersonation on Reasonable Doubt, it's likely that you bit through your bottom lip during knockoff Godfather monologue that opens The Writing's on the Wall, an album that otherwise contains some of the best late-'90s R&B ever recorded.

A common misconception about Mariah Carey's career posits her turn toward hip-hop as a sudden occurrence situated around mid-'90s singles like "Fantasy" and "Honey," but the truth is that her move away from the stately balladry of her early '90s beginnings was much more gradual. Look no further than her third album Music Box, where Mariah and her elite team of writers and producers sought to evolve her sound by expanding it in every direction possible. Cuts like the swinging lead single "Dreamlover" and the boom bap infused deep cut "I've Been Thinking About You" anticipate the style makeover she'd complete with 1997's Butterfly, while "Now That I Know" pairs her with the C+C Music Factory braintrust for a dance music excursion.

After enduring the child star stigma on his Quincy Jones-produced debut, Tevin Campbell was eager to show his evolution on his sophomore album I'm Ready, released in 1993 when Tevin was 16 years old. This time around, he took a more active role in concepting and writing the songs alongside three impressive contributors: Prince, Babyface, and Narada Michael Walden. The album's lead single "Can We Talk" (which spent three weeks at no. 1 on the R&B chart) perfectly captures a teenager's insecure romantic impulses: "And just like a woman, you were too shy / But you weren't the only 'cause so was I / And I dreamed of you ever since / Now I built up my confidence." Tevin's voice still had an adolescent levity, but with a newfound clarity and control that proved his talent was no precocious gimmick.

I'm Ready seemed to exist in a world completely divorced from the g-funk-influenced jeep music that began to dominate black radio in 1993. Babyface and his production partner Daryl Simmons were in their prime, crafting soothing synth ballads, like "Always In My Heart" and the title track, that were perfectly programmed for the middle school slow dance scene. Narada Michael Walden brought in a sitar player for "What Do I Say," a song about trying to get out of the friend zone co-written by Johnny Gill, and a saxophone player for "Brown-Eyed Girl," a charmingly simple love song co-written by Tevin himself.

3a8082e126