Album Of The Week: 2 Chainz � B.O.A.T.S. II: Me Time (Def Jam): Even though a spectacularly-titled 2 Chainz album need not be reviewed in anything other than quotes, I'm doing my due diligence by pointing out the gross and creepy aspects of the year's funniest rap album first, namely a lot of expected "You a bitch, you a ho, that's just my philosophy," and one sickening "I just hit my girlfriend and asked her where her wife at." And he sabotages himself when he tries to escape his own outrageousness by quoting Jay Z ("Lyrically I could be Talib Kweli/ But with gold teeth it would be hard for someone to believe") right before a reference to leaving a woman's genitals stankin'. But for anyone who hears only gas in Planet Boss and minstrelsy in Waka Flocka Flame, Tauheed Epps' caricatures at least reach across the aisle. To wit: "I just had a threesome for three weeks in a row," "So much money on me it won't even fold," "Bought a new crib just to f*** you in," "Her a** so big it look like she tryin' to walk backwards," "If you wrote an autobiography you'd have to sue yourself," "I drink red b****es/ I don't drink Red Bulls," "I tried to get a tan but I'm black already," "Shorty a** soft like a Nerf ball," "Let's make a sex tape and put it on Netflix," and last but most honest, "Didn't graduate but sometimes things happen." For once the overblown-spooky Young Chop-style beats aren't suffocating�check out the pulley-chain hi-hats on the "Kilo" update "36"�and there's plenty of pop compromise to turn your ears over before it drags. Looking forward to B.O.A.T.S. III: Man Cave.

The Weeknd � Kiss Land (Republic/XO): In which music critics everywhere wake up from their collective hangover and realize they've been praising a truly unlikable narcissist since well before Yeezus invited logic jumps into what exactly excuses an A-hole genius. The Weeknd (aka Abel Tesfaye) is not a genius, but he's a good, oversensitive singer who had a great idea to sing about the pitfalls of suffocating fame in order to achieve it before anyone even knew his name. His fly-on-the-wall tales were phantasmagoric, nihilistic and misogynistic by default�the first song "High For This" off his first "mixtape" endorsed rape more wholeheartedly than Robin Thicke. So the "Kiss" in question is closer to Gene Simmons' than the fantasy of a cruel Michael Jackson glossing over his demons with a Portishead sample he denies even exists. Now that we know the guy is more disgusting than any character Tyler, the Creator could ever conceive, it shouldn't be a shock that his album is still very good. In fact, it's by far the best thing he's done since that first mixtape, which the two-part title track, the creepiest thing here, maybe could've fit onto. If anything, the realization that "this ain't nothing to relate to" over impressive mbv-style murk means he's actually matured. God help us. And the Pharrell remix with "Blurred Lines" dollar signs in its eyes is great.