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My ChilledSoul Vol. 2

Fifty-four tracks from 2016 — the second volume, and the one where the whole series' argument is first laid out at length.

Too much shit going on….mind needs to unwind & forget the world for a little while. If you’re feelin’ the same way, chill to this..

OneLove

My ChilledSoul Vol. 2

Going back to the early volumes of a long-running series is usually an exercise in charity. This one holds up completely, which says something about the consistency of the ear behind it.

Assembled in 2016, it is a snapshot of R&B at a hinge point: the Toronto sound was at its peak, Atlanta's alternative scene was emerging, British and Nigerian artists were arriving on the same playlists as Americans for the first time, and the whole category was about to stop being organised around radio.

What to listen for

Bryson Tiller appears twice, and "Don't" is the record that defined a whole subgenre — the sound people started calling trapsoul, after his album, which is a rare case of an artist naming the thing they invented.

PARTYNEXTDOOR also appears twice, which correctly identifies him as the other architect of that sound.

Miguel's "Sure Thing" is the oldest record here and has since had a second life that dwarfs its original success, which is one of the stranger things streaming has done to the catalogue.

Erykah Badu appears twice from her phone-themed mixtape, and "Phone Down" is the funniest thing on the list.

Anderson .Paak's "Room in Here" with The Game is from Malibu and is the best-played track here by a distance.

Gregory Porter and Kem's "Holding On" is the jazz-vocal entry and the most unexpectedly moving thing on the set.

Mereba's "September" and Amber Mark's "Monsoon" are both years ahead of their artists' recognition, and Burna Boy's "Soke" is similarly early.

Allen Stone's live reading of "What's Going On" closes the set, and it is a brave thing to attempt and a good way to end.

Go deeper

Anderson .Paak's Malibu and Bryson Tiller's T R A P S O U L are the two albums that define this moment from opposite directions — one a live-band record, the other built almost entirely from atmosphere.

Then play this volume against the fifteenth or the twenty-second. The taste barely changes; only the artists do.

Why the early volume holds: going back to the start of a long series is usually an exercise in charity, and this one needs none. The taste is already settled, several of these artists were years from recognition, and the set catches a genuine hinge point — the moment the whole category stopped being organised around radio.

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