The most disappointing albums of 2017

Once the euphoria of new LCD music dissipated (their last release, "This is Happening", came out back in 2010), what were we left with? An album that sounded a lot like an LCD Soundsystem album. While there's nothing inherently wrong with that, Murphy's outfit had previously found a way to push their sound into new directions and emotional spaces with each progressive release, leaving "American Dream" as a bit of a let down, the band just playing a bunch of songs that could be scattered anywhere in the discography without anyone really noticing. There were still takeaways – the languid "I Used To" and the enveloping David Bowie homage "Black Screen" can easily be added to the LCD canon – but tracks like "Call the Police" and "Change Yr Mind" felt more like rehashes than exciting new developments. Now that they're back together, though, maybe they'll capture that mojo once again.

When the reigning bubblegum pop princess dropped the big single to her new album "Chained to the Rhythm," everyone asked the same question: "Is this it?" In a boneheaded attempt to merge wokeness with vaporwave, Perry seemed intent on trying to make something new and interesting but ended up dropping a new album full of stale, vacuum-sealed pop songs, so devoid of the personality that made her a star in the first place. While "Chained" managed to reach the Billboard Top Five, her other singles — "Bon Appetit [ft. Migos]" and the confused diss track "SwishSwish [ft. Nicki Minaj]" — didn't even make the Top 40, a shocking turn of events from a woman who previously managed to put out five No. 1 singles from the same album ("Teenage Dream"). While Perry was never beloved by critics, "Witness" is her artistic nadir. Don't feel too bad for her though: she still scored a $25 million payday to be a judge on "American Idol," so something tells us she'll be just fine. (Bonus: if you do end up checking out "Witness," at least look out for "Pendulum": it's the best song on there by a mile.)

Make no mistake: the lead single to indie rockers The xx's new album "I See You" is an unquestioned masterpiece. "On Hold" serves as a perfect melding of Jamie "xx" Smith's sample-based production work and vocalist's Romy Madley Croft and Oliver Sim's fascinating, flirty interplay. It's a mournful-yet-buoyant pop classic, making you wonder why the rest of "I See You" just doesn't seem able to live up to the promise that "On Hold" teased at. While "I See You"continues the London-based trio's penchant for chilled-out guitar exercises, they seem to have forgotten how to groove like they used to, relying more and more on ambient textures and atmospheres instead of solid, reasonable songwriting. Romy and Oliver also have voices that, if left unchecked, just sound like they're bored to be in the recording booth, as evidenced by a large majority of "I See You." There are still winners — the blissful "Replica" teases out a good amount of gravitas — but as time marches on, The xx's debut album appears more and more like the benchmark that they just won't be able to top. 

When we look back at Miley Cryus' solo discography, music historians will have a heck of a time parsing out each and every maneuver. To her credit, especially after breaking out of the post-Disney starlet template, every new effort Cyrus put out yielded something new and different, even if the quality came into question. Following the psychedelic dump of drugged-out Flaming Lips collaborations that was"... And Her Dead Petz," "Younger Now" feels like a true-blue followup to her crunked-up mainstream breakthrough "Bangerz". Here, however, Miley is aiming for a more middle-of-America crowd, collaborating with Dolly Parton and keeping the whole affair largely acoustic. Miley may claim it's country, but it's really just rock and pop numbers with the occasional bit of twang, making the end result a shade more generic than we've come to expect from the former queen of all things twerk. The title track, generic lyrics and all, still has the beating heart of a great pop single – we just wish we could say the same for the rest of the album. 

Amazingly, watching our favorite turn-of-the-decade indie rock stadium-fillers turn to Eurodisco didn't leave us feeling infinitely content. After exploring the more dance-y side of their personalities on 2013's "Reflektor," Win Butler and company went on a bizarre marketing campaign to push the "Everything Now" brand, staging fake Stereogum sites and selling USB fidget spinners as a supposed commentary on consumer and critical culture. Maybe all that mess would be more endearing had the songs held up, and while the pulsating "Creature Comfort" and the smooth Régine Chassagne ballad "Electric Blue" hold weight, there was no denying that this whimpery set of mirrorball grooves served as the most unsatisfying LP of the Montreal sextet yet. Maybe we're going to be OK though: after "Pop," U2 returned to our good graces with "All That You Can't Leave Behind." Maybe that's what we can expect next. Maybe. 

It had been six years since we last heard from Gorillaz, and seven years since we got a "real" album from them ("Plastic Beach"). After a bad falling out, Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett patched things up and created an album that was a pseudo-soundtrack to the then-goofy idea of a Trump-led America, and... well, the end result doesn't make a lot of sense. Mixing personal songs with electro numbers and an expectedly epic guest roster, Gorillaz forgot that their two big albums each had big pop songs that helped center their audience for each animated journey, thereby leaving the anything-goes nature of "Humanz" as a Gorillaz-sounding album that still doesn't feel like an actual Gorillaz album. Some great songs managed to sneak their way in – the Grace Jones collaboration "Charger" is an off-kilter stunner – but it's amazing how after each listen through, the pounding beats and laser synths all blur (haha) together, turning the excitement you entered the album with into pure confusion. We're glad the group is back, but we just wish it was under better circumstances. 

Director Edgar Wright once noted that while people think they want a sequel to a movie, they really don't. Getting the same thing twice is derivative: what they really want is their beloved characters to go on new adventures and experience new things. For Rochester indie rock group Joywave (who have a very devout following), they definitely gave their fans something different — but maybe a little too different. "Content," their sophomore record, trades in the exuberant quirkiness and pounding riffs of their debut for a sparser, moodier second album that was clearly born in an emotional state but really does everything it can to keep its listeners at arm's length. These are crunchy riffs and catchy choruses about algorithms, sure, but at the end of the day, very few of these excursions do anything that's not already been tried in the indie rock playbook dozens of times before. While fans definitely got something different, maybe a little more of the same will cure what ails ya. 

When we last checked in with our heroes, Haley Williams had just unleashed Paramore's eponymous 2013 album, which ended up scoring them their first-ever Top 10 pop hit and easily had the best reviews of their career. Having now reunited with drummer Zac Farro (who himself has been putting out some stellar electro pop under the guise of Halfnoise), what could we expect of this new, exuberant version of Paramore? Well, a lot of exuberance, apparently. And a love of the '80s. Taking the success of "Ain't It Fun" to its logical conclusion, "After Laughter" is replete with every retro-pop trick in the book with synths and keyboards of every flavor flying in and out, leaving us with an album that, while fun, still feels unmistakably plastic. The fun spots here seem so overlabored that you have to wonder how the last album made it all seem so effortless. Thus, leave it to the wistful acoustic ballad "26" to leave the most lasting impact: a bit of modern sincerity slices through the Technicolor noise like a knife.

Todd, we're begging you: please stop. After saying in interviews that his 2013 album "State" would rival the likes of Skrillex, the '70s-hailing self-producing multi-instrumentalist auteur ended up giving us an LP that was nothing short of embarrassing, with Rundgren adopting the kind of poses you'd expect from your friend's dad trying to look cool. What's worse, however, is that he continued in that vein with 2015's "Global," leaving "White Knight" – his 21^st studio album – as the last refuge of those seeking modern relevance. Yeah: it's a duets album. With everyone from Donald Fagen to Daryl Hall to Joe Walsh to even Trent Reznor showing up to pitch in, "White Knight" at least sounds like Rundgren is playing with the styles of his past instead of trying to awkwardly stage himself like a visionary of the future. At times, like with his Robyn collaboration "That Could Have Been Me," the combination of nostalgia and genuine sincerity works beautifully. However, when he leans hard into the schmaltz on "Tin Foil Hat," Rundgren has never sounded more out of place with the current musical climate. There are moments worth hanging onto here, but the message stands: Todd, please stop. 

Feist has had a hell of a career so far, featuring on some of Broken Social Scene's best songs while also carving out a niche for herself with her quirky solo records. Yet as 2011's "Metals" showed her sound maturing into something far more serious than what we've seen before, "Pleasure" follows those instincts to their joyless end. With sparse, dry acoustics and sometimes unadorned, atonal guitar solos, Feist's fifth proper solo LP is certainly not catering to any specific commercial group, but in a world of confessional albums from the likes of Julien Baker and Amber Coffman, the pleasures of "Pleasure" feel sparse and distant. Even the few times that Feist goes for energy like on "Any Party," she repeats her guitar lines so much that by the end it feels less like a song and more like a songwriting exercise. There's nothing wrong with creating a world out of sparse guitar sounds, it just wouldn't hurt if you actually invited your listeners into it. 

Goodness, where do we start? Although audiences still weren't sure how to come to terms with the Flaming Lips emotional and surprisingly underrated turn towards the serious with 2013's "The Terror," a few too many Miley Cyrus collaborations have led Wayne Coyne and his band of proud Oklahoma weirdos to the land of "Oczy Mlody," where no song stays the same for too long and the nighttime synth sounds surround an endless array of nonsense lyrics from Coyne. This mighty band were once able to mix obtuse concepts with gorgeous and sometimes silly choruses with the greatest of ease, but now they've gone so far down their path of indulgence that the sound of "Oczy Mlody" can only be described in one way: there was no one around to tell them "no." 

Although it took a bit of time for people to discover the Haim sisters' debut release "Days Are Gone" on their own terms, those that did were struck by how this L.A.-based trio managed to craft an album stacked end-to-end with songs that get stuck in your head for weeks at a time. Four years of waiting is a long time in the pop game, and when they finally came back with "Something toTell You," it was... just more of the same? To be fair, there are some sturdy songs on here, and teases like "Right Now" really showed the girls exploring darker territories beyond their obvious Christine McVie/Wilson Phillips inspirations, but tracks like "Walking Away" and even the string-driven rocker "Found It In Silence" have a been-there/done-that quality to them. It's not a bad album by any means, but after waiting for another slab of pop bliss from Haim for so long, a pretty by-the-numbers sequel more than qualifies for a list of the most disappointing albums of the year. 

While Fergie's career has extended well beyond the confines of her time in the Black Eyed Peas, her 2006 effort "The Dutchess" placed all five of its pop singles the U.S. top five – a pretty stunning feat for any diva, especially once who was just starting to branch out on her own. Then we got nothing. Another Black Eyed Peas album happened, but several false starts (see: failing singles) led to the surprisingly muted release of "Double Dutchess," Fergie's decade-in-the-works new record. Yet while her first solo outing was sexy, fun, and gloriously big-budget, "Double Dutchess" proves to be cheap, loud, and tired. These trap beats and '90s-throwback jams all feel like they were passed on by at least five different acts before finally reaching Fergie's doorstep, and her blasé vocal takes do nothing to elevate the material. It's not that fans waited for 11 years for another Fergie album: it's that they waited for so long that they simply gave up on Fergie altogether, leaving the endless stream of cheap music videos that lead up to the release of "Double Duchess" as nothing but sad reminders of the diva that once was. 

In his first decade, Sam Beam's Iron & Wine project was synonymous with indie-folk, as his stretch from 2002's "The Creek Drank the Cradle" to 2011's "Kiss Each Other Clean" resulted in landmark, breakthrough recordings that landed his songs in movie soundtracks, TV commercials, and the hearts of hundreds of thousands of millennials. Since then, Beam has been struggling to find his identity, with covers and collaboration records dominating his discography. In many ways, "Beast Epic" is a return to form, with Beam aiming for strummed chords over hushed finger-picked constructions, but while this album is a nice reset from the jazz-affected 2013 effort "Ghost on Ghost," "Beast Epic" feels more like a summation of his skills instead of an out-and-out masterpiece, covering the tropes we know so well without adding anything new to them. It's a perfectly acceptable collection of songs, but comfort food is just that: comforting but not revelatory. Keep trying there, Sam: you're almost there. 

Back in 2013 (remember those innocent times?), Queens of the Stone Age dropped "...Like Clockwork" and it was a thunderclap of a rock album, featuring some of the hardest, heaviest, and most creative grooves the band had come up with since "Rated R." What a surprise, then, to hear 2017's "Villains," which shares a lot of similarities, strangely, to last year's Metallica effort "Hardwired... to Self-Destruct": both albums had dry, stripped-down productions that drained the color out of a set of songs that were already remarkably undercooked. Queens of the Stone Age have had bad albums before, but never one so bloodless, so bland. Clearly, the album's title comes from whoever the "real" songwriters were on this album, 'cos our hero, Josh Homme, would never write an album this painfully ordinary. Right?

Future pulled off a once-in-a-lifetime feat by putting out his new albums "Future" and "HNDRXX" a week apart, resulting in him topping the Billboard album chart and then replacing himself with a new album the following week in the top slot. No one had pulled it off before, and even with "Mask Off" netting him his first-ever top 10 Single, the trap-heavy "Future" couldn't hold an artistic candle to its moodier, introverted kid brother of an album. Songs like "I'm So Groovy" and "Draco" feature some of the laziest beats we've heard out of Future's camp all year (and that's saying something given his Young Thug collabo mixtape – also released this year – was a slog to get through), to say nothing of his ever-disconnected, isolating flow. Metro Boomin remains the producer who understands Future's style best, but he only works on two cuts here, leaving the rest as a surprisingly unmemorable run of songs from what was once hip-hop's shining future. 

Brooklyn-bred Americana trio The Lone Bellow started out so promising, mixing weird, indie-rock rhythms with their extremely modern take on folk and country tropes. Ironically, in moving to Nashville for their third album, the group have turned astoundingly more generic, their weird sounds and pointed lyrics giving way to the stomp-clap, catchy-chorused style of all the imitators they spent their first two albums deliberately not sounding like. As a run-of-the-mill alt-country release, "Walk Into a Storm" is serviceable. As a new album from The Lone Bellow, it sounds like one of the most promising groups of the scene forgot what made them special in the first place. 

Brandon Flowers and company really screwed up with 2012's "Battle Born," a long, indulgent album featuring the group's worst tendencies when it comes to overt Springsteen worship. It produced zero hits and was so easily and obviously their career nadir that no wonder the guys took five years off before coming back with "Wonderful Wonderful." Make no mistake: this is the most fun the band have had in some time, even if the results are largely hit-or-miss. When they do things like try to construct their own Zeppelin-styled rock epic and set it as the album opener? Less fun. Creating an exuberant dance-rock number featuring the lyrics "He's got a big smile! / He's fake news!"? That's aces, baby. The rest of the album is a bit of a mixed bag, and while it's an improvement over their last set, it's still a far cry from the rabble-rousing Killers we grew to love at the start of the new millennium. Take heed though: at least it sounds like they're back on course. 

Astoundingly, "Now" is only Shania Twain's fifth studio album. This seems so odd only because her previous efforts (starting with 1995's "The Woman in Me") managed to spin off crossover singles for years and years after the fact, making it seem like she released tons more discs of material than she actually did. Still, the 15 year break between "Up!" and "Now" was unusual even for Shania, which means that with expectations running high, the resulting album could only be the result of several rounds of several executives and producers going over each and every song and making sure every moment is perfectly in place. This is Shania, after all, so anything less than a chart-swallowing blockbuster is simply not acceptable. 

The problem? Careful as every note and word is perfectly placed for maximum impact, Shania's style hasn't changed an ounce, and her sunshine-ready brand of country-pop doesn't feel refreshing in 2017: it sounds dated, hackneyed. Even her vocal performances feel put-upon and forced, which is a shame given how making this look easy was her go-to superpower. "Now" may have topped the charts, but it quickly (and abruptly) fell out of the Top 10, proving the old adage that fanbases are like plants: you got to keep checking on them. After failing to do so for more than a decade, only the hardcore remain, and after a bland run of songs like this, it's only the hardcore that are going to stick with her after. 

For a capella vocal group Pentatonix, well, they're here to stay, with their Christmas releases turning into routine, platinum-selling chart smashes. Although they endured a bit of drama this year with Avi Kaplan leaving, originating members Scott Hoying and Mitch Grassi have taken their Superfruit YouTube channel into the realm of actual pop songs – replete with professional-grade instrumentation – and boy, does it get exhausting. Running through a vein of mid-tempo pop numbers that wouldn't sound out of place on a Betty Who record, "Future Friends" is filled with beats and colors and textures that add up, for the most part, to nothing. Although the duo are clearly excited to be in the studio under a non-PTX guise, they keep circling tropes and sounds that may have been hip five years ago but aren't old enough to be washed in a shade of "retro cool" – not by a long shot. Instead, "Future Friends" is a litany of surprisingly-forgettable studio creations that the boys just so happen to sing on. Every once in awhile, they stumble upon something genuinely exciting ("Imaginary Parties" opens up the album for a good reason), but at the end of the day, it's pretty clear that Hoying and Grassi shouldn't quit their day jobs. 

To be fair, Beck was in a bit of a hard place. His 2014 album"Morning Phase" (i.e. his unnecessary sequel to "Sea Change") was a surprise hit and the winner of the Grammy for Album of the Year. However, his 2015 one-off with uber-pop producer Greg Kurstin, the single "Dreams," was Beck's first legitimate chart hit in years. So what's a Beck Hansen to do?Apparently lean heavy into the realm of the pop hit, resulting in "Colors", his most upbeat, airplay-friendly album since 2005's "Guero". While it's always great to hear Beck having fun, "Colors" is produced within an inch of his life, his intentions genuine even if the poses he strikes are tired. The DayGlo textures and structures are all in place but almost rigidly, cynically so. The pseudo-hip-hop parody "Wow" remains one of the worst songs he's ever put out, but even his biggest detractors can't deny the pure pop bliss that is "Up All Night." Even if "Dear Life" sounds like Beck's goofing on Spoon's signature sound, it's the piano-led "Square One" that really points to what this album could've been: something explosive and exciting without feeling forced. He may be jonesing for a pop hit real bad, but Beck doesn't have to take the most basic path in the world to get there – especially when you're Beck, and that kind of thing is beneath you.

Although Chris Brown's last album was only two years ago, the frenzied members of Team Breezy were still surprised when Brown announced that his next release would actually be a double-disc set featuring a full 45 songs worth of material. As exciting a prospect as that may seem to some,  Brown has a real problem with quality control, and so many of the songs, often aping choruses of one-hit-wonders from the '80s and '90s, sound so remarkably similar to each other. Despite the work of countless producers, "Heartbreak on a Full Moon" still sounds like it was rushed, with Brown basically giving the same vocal performance at every turn, resulting in a double-album's worth of of-the-moment R&B-pop that sounds half-baked and melodically malnourished. It's not so much a bad album as it is a bland one, but when that blandness clocks in at over two and a half hours, differentiating between those two extremes becomes an uninspired task. 

To their credit, U2 have reached their artistic nadir before. After the underappreciated classic "Zooropa" continued the disco experiments they started with 1991's "Achtung Baby," they promised up and down that they would return to guitar rock again. Unfortunately, 1997's "Pop" was even more disco-centric than "Zooropa" and still considered one of their worst. Nowadays, having become a relevant rock group once again in the 2000s, they're again spiraling out of control. The "forced release" of 2014's "Songs of Innocence" left a bad taste in a lot of people's mouths, to say nothing of the very confused songs contained within, with Bono and company preaching acceptance at one moment, diving deep into political history on the next, all while trying to wield the mantle of still-standing rock saviors. Unfortunately, "Songs of Experience" doesn't do much better, aiming for middle-of-the-road anthemic catharsis as Bono gives the world a nice little attaboy in the face of a Trump presidency. There is little that is new or exciting here: this is U2 stuck in their usual routine, which, 14 studio albums in, just doesn't cut it. They may be searching for relevance, but it's pretty obvious that they still haven't found what they're looking for.

Oh Moz, what are you up to this time? Although his public persona has always been a take-it-or-leave-it proposition, some have been able to overlook it in order to get to the witty, pained, considered lyricism that has made Morrissey such a compelling solo star. However, following the lukewarm reception of 2014's "World Peace is None of Your Business," "Low in High School" feels like Morrissey is barely trying anymore, as his warnings about how the news is lying to you feels remarkably behind the times, especially when the phrase "fake news" is being blared out of every television on a daily basis. Acclaimed mega-producer Joe Chiccarelli is doing everything he can to keep the arrangements interesting, but by the time Morrissey starts chanting that "we must be killed for what we believe" during a song called "Who Will Protect Us From the Police?", most people will have probably skipped to another playlist. We've heard this abrasive side of Moz before, and we're not particularly compelled to hear it again.