More blissfully stretched and sutured R&B, a genre that’s allowed restless artists remarkable latitude to follow their muses this decade. For the Weeknd, that means indulging his most depraved impulses; for Solange, it means finally confronting the problems she can’t shake head on. Frank Ocean sings through painful memories on “Ivy,” while spraying clouds of pitch-shifting effects like a defense mechanism; Sampha’s reverie on “(No One Knows Me) Like The Piano” is uncomfortably clear and pristine.