D’Angelo’s genius was undeniable. Though he released only three albums, the singer, who died at 51, left behind a remarkable catalogue of music.
When Michael Eugene Archer was three years old, his older brother Luther came home to find him almost perfectly playing a Prince song on the piano. As Luther later told Okayplayer:
"It was the first time I ever saw him play the piano. It was a full song that he played. It was specified and as good as anything else that I could’ve heard and seen back then... I think it was a part of Michael’s language and it was something that was put in him by the Lord."
That moment, in many ways, marked the beginning of D’Angelo’s long, winding journey. A musical prodigy with otherworldly talent, he went from playing music in his father's church to joining a local rap group, and eventually rose to become one of R&B’s brightest stars, blending old soul traditions with modern sounds. He became a reluctant superstar—and, over time, a mythical, reclusive figure—with one of the best catalogs in modern music.
D’Angelo died on Tuesday after a quiet battle with pancreatic cancer. He was 51. He leaves behind three children—and a remarkably complicated career arc. After releasing Brown Sugar in 1995, he became a breakout star, blending hip-hop’s raw, unpolished sensibility with the musicianship of funk, the warmth of soul, and the songwriting craft of classic R&B.
At a time when R&B was largely carried by hip-hop soul, D’Angelo brought something so new, the world couldn’t even define it. So his manager coined a term: neo-soul. D’Angelo simply called it Black music.
It would be five years before he returned—with Voodoo in 2000, a masterpiece recorded at Electric Lady Studios and featuring a collective of some of the era’s greatest musical minds, including drummer Questlove, jazz legend Roy Hargrove, producers J Dilla and James Poyser, and more.
Thanks to the single “Untitled (How Does It Feel)”—a full-on Prince homage—and its now-iconic Paul Hunter–directed video, D’Angelo became a true superstar. But fame didn’t always sit right. When everything outside the music—the celebrity, the parasocial obsession—started dominating the conversation, he withdrew. He wouldn’t release another album for 14 years. But when he did, it was Black Messiah, the most political work of his career.
There are no bad D’Angelo songs.
That includes album cuts, hip-hop remixes, guest features, and rare loosies. All exceptional. So ranking them? Not easy. There’s a good chance your favorite ended up near the bottom… or didn’t make the list at all.
Still, we did our best. Here are the 20 best D’Angelo songs of all time.
![Voodoo [2 LP][Explicit]](https://cdn.shopify.com/s/files/1/0638/2659/1966/files/ef1hGmd6aVH4ZAX54_c2aqOYG6vwBsw15NLrEoXYRw0.jpg?v=1749218690)
Album: Voodoo
Writers: D'Angelo, Method Man, Redman & Q-Tip
What made D’Angelo’s Voodoo era so special was his ability to infuse hip-hop with his own unique recipe of soul and funk without conforming to mainstream sensibilities.
“Left & Right,” featuring the superduo Method Man and Redman, is a prime example of hip-hop and soul merging—Meth and Red bring the raunchiness, while D delivers the rugged sultriness. —Mark Braboy
Album: Black Messiah
Writers: D’Angelo, Questlove, Kendra Foster
One of the aspects that separates Black Messiah from D’Angelo’s first two albums is its increased attention on socio-political issues.
Drawing heavy inspirations from the Minneapolis sound, “The Charade” is the most overtly political song in D’Angelo’s catalog.
The track features lyrics that denigrate systemic oppression and police brutality. (“All we wanted was a chance to talk/’Stead we only got outlined in chalk,” D’Angelo sings.) Released in the shadow of the murders of Michael Brown and Eric Garner, “The Charade” is among the best protest songs of the 2010s. —Matthew Allen
Album: Brown Sugar
Writer: D’Angelo
D’Angelo was known for fusing elements of gospel, funk, and hip-hop. However, the explicit “Shit, Damn, Motherfucker” draws from the blues traditions of the early 20th century.
The song tells a story of a man catching his wife cheating with his best friend in their home. In a blind rage, he shoots them both and gets arrested. This type of storytelling—adjacent to the hypersexuality of mid-1990s R&B crooners—further separated D’Angelo as a different kind of Black artist.
Jazz legend Ron Carter was supposed to play upright bass on the song, but bowed out after opposing the NSFW title. —Matthew Allen
Album: Space Jam: Music From and Inspired By The Motion Picture (1996)
Writer: D’Angelo
When D’Angelo was approached to compose a song for the Space Jam soundtrack, he originally wrote “Playa Playa,” a woozy funk jaunt with clever basketball references.
In the end, he wound up submitting “I Found My Smile Again,” a joyous love ballad that transitioned from a mysterious keyboard intro to a finger-popping celebration of love (and a metaphor for Michael Jordan rekindling his basketball passion) set to a knocking kick-and-snare combo. “Playa Playa” eventually found a home as Voodoo’s opening track. —Matthew Allen
Album: Brown Sugar
Writer: D'Angelo
Maybe one of D's sweetest songs, "Me And Those Dreamin' Eyes Of Mine" touches on a universally relatable topic: having a childlike crush and all the complicated feelings that come with it. Crafted in his bedroom, the song is carried by a gorgeous musical arrangement, including a audacious guitar solo.
Props also go to the many remixes. Multiple GOATs touched this one, including J Dilla, Erick Sermon, and DJ Premier. And yes, they all slap. —Dimas Sanfiorenzo
Album: High School High
Writers: D'Angelo, James Poyser & Questlove
One of D’Angelo’s greatest gifts was his ability to use music to turn anywhere into one big party. “Chicken Grease” easily transports the listener to an all night house party with lots of fried chicken frying on the hot stove served in aluminum trays, freshly lit joints, and carefree dancing and fellowship. The funky guitar in tandem with D’Angelo’s smokey voice brought this one to life. —Mark Braboy
Album: Instant Vintage
Writers: Raphael Saadiq, D’Angelo, Bobby Ozuna & Glenn Standridge
“Be Here” is a gem from Raphael Saadiq’s solo debut, *Instant Vintage*. The song catches D’Angelo in a rare mode—he’s playful and unburdened. He croons, “I got more than just some good dick and some money,” with a Southern gentleman’s ease. As architects of modern R&B, they’ve crafted a sound that’s both raw and refined.
The motel balcony video only deepened his quiet sex icon mythology. But “Be Here” proved he didn’t always need to be mysterious, conceptual, or tormented. Sometimes, shit can just feel good. —Kia Turner