Review Summary: Odd Future's self-appointed leader goes from sounding young and hungry, to just plain young
As big as the Odd Future musical collective have become in such a short amount of time, it’s not surprising in the least that there are still many people out in the world unaware of the shadow that this young group of misfits have succeeded in throwing over the music industry. And we’ve been caught up in the hype (and contributed to it) for the same reasons why we championed the rise of a scrawny little white boy at the turn of the century. We’ve latched on because “it’s good to be bad”. But it’s more than that though, we’re first taken aback and then swept up in the violent and confrontational nature of their work, we admire their diy approach, and we’re thrilled and delighted that behind all the swagger and posturing they’re just a bunch of kids having fun and doing what they want to do unhindered by the lack of funds. And it’s that lack of collateral that’s caused them to be as jaw-droppingly up-front as can be; Odd Future is the very definition of young and hungry. Aside from their obvious talents and the raw production style, we’re drawn to that twisted content that’s become the hallmark of their music. We gravitate to it like moths to a flame the same way we slow down to observe car crashes. Tongue in cheek or not, it’s the despicable nature always out in full bloom in their rhymes that hooks us because it’s that chance to be bad without actually being bad. They’ve become the poster boys for any kid looking to riot and rebel against their parents by singing along to gang chants of “ kill people burn sh
it f
uck school”. So who exactly is Odd Future trying to appeal to, especially when they’re the ones painting the bull’s-eye on themselves?
Following an extraordinary amount of hyperbole that makes Eminem’s meteoric rise to stardom paltry by comparison and after being adorned in royal cliches for a recent photo shoot, Tyler’s major debut
Goblin is set to be the average person’s introduction to Odd Future. Even though we may feel that here, in our little plugged in society, our musical tastes are fairly common for all, the reality is that not everyone knew of Odd Future a few months back. And to be fair, there’s still many a member of the general public unfamiliar with Earl and more than a little curious as to why that group of young white kids down the road keep ending all their sentences with “swag”. So there’s a lot resting on the slumped shoulders of
Goblin, but more than just being the world’s first “proper” introduction to the collective it also serves as first contact for OF’s second round. While attempting to avoid such journalistic buzzwords as “sophomore slump” Tyler must know that all eyes are on him and his merry bunch of mischief makers, more scrutinizing than wide-eyed though; which makes the semi-confessional nature of the album opener and title track more than a little jarring.
What should serve as a simple set up ends up almost destroying the credibility of the album as Tyler first disposes his supposed morbid inclinations then attempts to inflate that impression to bursting point. This works in a schizophrenic kind of way, but when he spends the rest of the album falling back into the normal trappings that have bought about all the controversy it makes you query what exactly he’s attempting to prove with all this. The loose narrative of Tyler confessing all to his therapist is the most apparent here, only loosely popping up in small bursts further on down the track, almost to reinforce the point that somewhere hidden deep down is a conscience that needs to hide behind such a concept so as to be taken seriously. But it fails to change any opinions regarding Tyler’s stature as a writer though, because he’s the most unreliable of narrators. He constantly lapses back into more volatile wordplay, even after revealing that he maybe tries too hard. He is the walking paradox that he jokingly dismisses in ‘Yonkers’.
And ‘Yonkers’ still bares the most commentary despite its earlier release, the gut punching bass and deep rumble still manifests itself as furiously as when we first heard it. Lyrically it’s as sharp as glass mainly because he relies on nonsensical rhyme schemes that while seemingly coming off as a fountain of stream of consciousness rambling, work because there is no severe connection to seriousness. It shows Tyler in full form, teeth bared and hungry for attention. ‘Radicals’ almost destroys ‘Yonkers’ success though; even at half its length the overt brashness of the track with it’s anarchic school kid preaching would only work in the smallest of doses, even Tyler’s initial warning doesn’t save the track from descending into ludicrous amounts of parody. It wants to be taken seriously, and the vocal delivery makes a staunch attack for that claim, but how do you get behind such graphic posturing when we’re talking about school? It’s N.W.A. for junior high.
‘Radicals’ is perhaps the perfect summary for everything that’s wrong with this album. At times the lyrics border more on the bad side of comical than obscene, and the overall length unfortunately makes wading through the dense atmosphere an arduous chore. As if to prove that he (and the entirety of OFWGKTA) weren’t just a one off success story he throws everything he can into the pot in an attempt to brew up the most potent of cocktails. The problem is he overloads the album with too much information, he’s a perfectionist at revealing what he wants to say but the only problem is he just has too much to say at times. He fails to trim the fat around the edges and by the end of the bloated 70+ minute run time you just feel cooked by the immense pressure you’ve been placed under. Which is a sad result because hidden in the lo-fi clatter and spoof vocals are some true gems. But
Goblin is a double sided coin though, because when these moments of magnificence emerge you can’t help but feel a twang of regret for Tyler and wish that they weren’t back ended by such unwelcoming guests.
For instance, ‘Transylvania’ is pure genius, the shuffling rhythm working in over time trying to keep the same momentum as Tyler’s flow. ‘She’s’ synth-heavy r & b ode is a more complacent joint heavily indebted to Frank’s gentle tones, unfortunately his smooth-as-silk delivery offsets Tyler’s gutter level drawl. ‘Tron Cat’ plays out like the disjointed cousin to ‘Yonkers’ with Tyler rapping about nothing in particular and yet still able to almost completely render the hip hop industry toothless in doing so. ‘Her’ shows Tyler dropping the posturing and giving his take on lost “love”, even though his school day infatuation comes off as more puppy love than anything else. But for all these moments there’s a ‘B
itch Suck D
ick’ or ‘Fish’ waiting in the wings to jeopardize
Goblin’s already overblown sense of importance. It would seem that Tyler just doesn’t know when to quit.
Looking back on
Goblin you get the sense that there’s really two albums here; one’s a dark and gritty take on a twisted individual’s outlook on the world, and the other is a somewhat more playful take, with its tongue firmly wedged in its cheek. And the problem is
Goblin doesn’t know which album it wants to be. It skates back and forth over the dividing line, almost without realizing it, like Tyler just can’t help himself but fall back into old habits. And all this talk of “white America” and confessionals and “public disclaimers” is nothing new, we’ve heard all this before from someone who made a living out of character assassination. When Tyler (and all of Odd Future for that matter) directly addresses the absurdity in their lyrics they inadvertently bring themselves crashing to the ground. We don’t need it bought to our attention that this is all fun and games, and when it is it only detracts from the music and makes us question why we should even bother in the first place. But for all its faults
Goblin is still a good album in a loose sense, less young and hungry and more just young though. And while the immaturity levels are at a new high it’s the kind of album you still need to listen to. It just demands attention, even if it is negative. It seems to hunger for a status, be it good or bad.
