Medicine season – Jay-Z, Kanye and Daft Punk turn back the clocks and release duds.

Jay-Z, Kanye and Daft Punk turn back the clocks and release duds.

The three biggest albums of the year are also the worst. Production credits aside, Jay-Z, Kanye West and Daft Punk have all crafted albums that mock smart music listeners.

Instead of delivering good albums, these acts have made a bold admission with their latest releases—they are content to deliver a product.

A lot of people are probably OK with this. Hell, you’ll probably see Grown Ups 2 this weekend because “Adam Sandler, bro.”

I can’t blame you. Those who argue about entertainment value usually discuss only one thing—if they’re entertained. Fair enough, but let’s look at the ingredients of your choice popular music.

Jay-Z’s Magna Carta Holy Grail solidifies the rapper’s status as a businessman. Whereas we used to listen to his songs for a good hook, line or beat, HOVA is making no bones about it—he makes money off you, and he’s laughing his way to the bank.

The same assessment could be said about a multitude of other entertainers.

Johnny Depp hasn’t made a great film since Ed Wood, but he’s probably counting stacks of Benjamins the public gave him for Pirates of Caribbean 1-80.

There’s a reason Garth Brooks performs in Vegas, because Garth Brooks fills the venue to capacity asking $300 or more per ticket.

Jay-Z’s latest album is such a blatant grab, a bland blueprint for what hip-hop has become. Jay-Z’s m.o. is no longer music quality. He’s content to make headlines.

The album was released as a Samsung app to a million people. When you got the app, the album revealed itself to be a huge data mining operation for Samsung (and possibly the government, if you’re into conspiracy theories) as the consumer had to give up contacts and entire access to listen to the album.

The other headlines were Jay-Z quoted former alt-rock songs in his lyrics. Nirvana’s “Smells Like Teen Spirit” shows up two minutes into the album. R.E.M.’s “Losing My Religion” appears further down in the affair.

Songs from 20 years ago that still sound better than this album are used as pedestals for why someone should listen.

More headlines file in as Jay-Z discusses Miley Cyrus’ ability to twerk and dedicates an entire chorus to chanting Tom Ford, who you either know or don’t depending on how much money you make and can spend on fashion.

Used to be, we looked forward to Jay-Z releasing an album. Jay-Z used to be the Time Magazine of rappers. He had something to say. There was meat in his content. You knew that. You picked it up and enjoyed mostly all of it.

Now, he’s The National Enquirer—all huge headlines with nothing to say and poorly-placed and blatant advertisement replacing the memories of former classics of The Blueprint, The Black Album and Reasonable Doubt with something awful and ugly.

Jay-Z isn’t alone in this mockery, though. Daft Punk continues to be the talk of the town as the band has now released “Get Lucky” condoms.

In the case of Daft Punk, Random Access Memories‘ music has become an afterthought to the other side of the music world—the business side. A once formative figure in the electronic music scene is now admitting, “Right now, we want nothing more than to be Kiss.”

Just like the hair metal band, Daft Punk has action figures. They have a racecar. Their songs are played in ultra lounges in the coolest boroughs of New York as well as The Chimes. (That’s not a knock on The Chimes. But if you time traveled back to the ’80s, this would probably also be the case for Kiss.)

Congratulations, Daft Punk—you went from crafting “Around the World” to being less cool than the Red Hot Chili Peppers in two months time.

Then, there’s the music of Random Access Memories. Is it that good? Months after it’s release, I’ll still admit it’s fun, clean, and well-recorded. But, it’s nothing special. Like Jay-Z, Daft Punk’s marketing scheme and endless build-up has also been its crutch.

In the months before Daft Punk’s album, I had heard the stories of what makes them and this album so special. They released good-to-great albums in the past. They recorded this one in the studio with actual musicians. They had other people come in to play instruments.

Honestly think about those last two statements because thousands of people in lesser-known bands do that each day with better results. What it boils down to—Random Access Memories is nothing more than a Michael Bay film: boring spectacle that you’re supposed to enjoy because you see the relentless ad machine turning its wheels.

Kanye West’s Yeezus had none of the ad machine to add to its rushed, awful product. Instead, West himself took to the podium. Whenever West would speak in the past, we usually were all ears because he’s upped his game incrementally with each release.

Let’s be honest, though, Yeezus has three good tracks. The rest is unlistenable. It’s sad, because there are chilling moments on Yeezus—the entirety of “Black Skinhead”, the instrumental break on “New Slaves,” and the throwback “Bound 2.”

But like Daft Punk and Jay-Z, West is throwing himself in front of a screen, making claims like “I Am A God” that are just as blatant as the marketing campaigns of his contemporaries.

All three should exit stage left and hibernate for awhile, because they’ve all finally revealed what we never wanted them to—they are not in fact gods. They are entertainers, and after all they did to forward music, they just turned back the clocks to the ’90s and convinced you mediocrity is OK.