Goblin

Following the popularity of the “Yonkers” video, Tyler, the Creator could have catered to the tastes of the masses and cashed in. Instead, he made an album that's unwieldy, irate, insolent, schizophrenic, odious and deeply personal. It's exactly the album the artist wanted for himself. It's also completely uninterested in any sort of standardised rap music, but who really needs traditional rap, especially from a kid as creatively fearless as Tyler? His willful ignorance of hip-hop's rules makes <i>Goblin</i> exciting. His productions reach outside hip-hop's realm to touch the belching industrial designs of Throbbing Gristle and the darkly seductive jazz of Roy Ayers. The lyrics are stream-of-consciousness yet highly crafted. The imperative is to share without regard for the flammability of the thought. The teenage mind is a dark and complicated machine, but Tyler's more interested in self-exploration than self-destruction. The scenery here is ugly, beautiful, and sometimes terrifying—sometimes all at once—but we should be thankful for that complexity. There are few albums that allow as much access to a young artist’s emotional and artistic landscape.