Vince Staples is one of the most understated and consistently great rappers of the past decade. From 2014 to 2024, he’s released six albums and two detailed EPs, with only one — 2016’s Prima Donna — being less than stellar (even that EP had some standout moments).

Since 2020, Staples has produced shorter, well-crafted projects that focus on single styles or concepts. FM! in 2018 was a 22-minute tribute to the radio stations he grew up listening to, filled with quick-hitting, upbeat summer tracks that were conceptually deep but light and easy on the ears. His self-titled, post-pandemic record in 2021 was less accessible musically — featuring darker, fuzzy production that I loved — but was equally smart and lyrically emotional. The following year, he produced another conceptually similar record but brought in producer Mustard to give it more life and danceability. It wasn’t a “commercial” project, but it had those vibes if you were looking for them.

Dark Times is the culmination of everything Vince Staples has done before. The production is subtle, mixing dark tones, entrancing guitar and piano riffs and with just enough summer, West Coast bounce to give it energy. His hooks and lyrics are catchy in the deadpan, sometimes aggressive, and self-deprecating ways that only Vince Staples can deliver. 

The standout element, though, is his deeply personal and specific storytelling, which evolves from the beginning of the album to the end and focuses on a few common themes.

The opening song, “Black&Blue,” serves as a mission statement and description of the album’s title. The album discusses Black struggles, systemic poverty,  and the realities of expectations placed on Black men in everyday life and within Black culture, like hip-hop stardom. Vince discusses burying his older brother, talking to a friend in jail, being a money tree for his community and friends, and feeling like a martian who was accidentally dropped off in the ghetto, but growing to love where he’s come from despite the possible dangers and challenges.

This theme mingles with Vince’s relationship with the women in his life. Vince mentions how disappointing it is that it’s easier to get a woman to sleep with him than to give him a hug. There’s an interlude where a woman tells her husband to lie to her and pretend to be happy because it’s what she needs. He follows this with “Justin,” a short, specific story about meeting a woman, having an instant connection, going up to her apartment, and discovering she has a boyfriend. “Women lie a lot” is the inevitable conclusion and deadpan hook for the song.

On “Radio,” Vince talks about breaking a woman’s heart, although it sounds like he’s the one with heartbreak. She tells him she doesn’t listen to rap because no man should speak to a woman the way they do in hip-hop. She explains, “The woman is the key to the Earth and she is the one that gives birth,” and when Vince dismisses the notion, she leaves him. He then listens to songs about heartbreak, mostly by women, marking a turning point for the album. The final track is a spoken-word interview with Santigold, where she elaborates on that idea — “woman is the key to the Earth” — and reiterates Vince’s idea about sex being easier to achieve than support, compassion, trust, and friendship. The use of women across the album to explain concepts and deliver hooks and backing vocals — from Baby Rose to frequent collaborator Kilo Kish — further emphasizes their importance in Vince’s life.

Another theme that makes the album highly personal is the numerous references to Vince’s past works and influences. The chorus on “Étouffée” — by far the best song on the album — pays homage to New Orleans hip-hop artists like Birdman, Mannie Fresh, and Soulja Slim. The track also references his albums Big Fish Theory and Summertime ‘06 as pinnacles of his craft that are used by critics and fans and barometers of his newer music. “Government Cheese” uses the same screeching synths as his breakout 2014 single “Blue Suede.” “Radio” also references Big Boy’s California morning show, a central theme for 2018’s FM!, and a number of the artists and music styles that inspired him. Tracks like “Little Homies” remind us that Vince could easily make a record full of danceable, radio hits if he wanted to.

Ranking Vince Staples’ entire catalog is challenging because each project brings something different and is essential for understanding him as an artist. However, Dark Times might be his best. Its 35-minute runtime makes it more fulfilling than FM! and his self-titled project or EPs, without introducing some of the bloat of Ramona Park Broke My Heart or the heft of Summertime ‘06. While Big Fish Theory’s experimental production made it shine, the lyrics, evolving themes, and interesting but accessible production of Dark Times make it an almost seamless record that you can throw on, let run through the end, and repeat over and over again.