And his answer to life’s pain? In the words of Los Angeles Times reviewer Caroline Ryder, who wrote about Odd Future last year, to spew “sheer evil.Hey Dad, it's me, um. So how do we sum up such a cruel and carnal cacophony? Tyler Okonma is, it seems, both a lost soul and the victim of a deadbeat dad he never knew. Tyler possesses Igbo and Nigerian heritage through his father. Instead, after yelping, “When someone gets blamed ’cause some white kid had aimed his AK-47/At 47 kids, I don’t wanna see my name mentioned,” his counsel (spanning several songs) is this: “Come on, kids, f‑‑- that class and hit that bong/Let’s buy some guns and kill those kids with dads and moms/ … Yeah, rebel n-gga cheer it, dead parents everywhere.” F‑‑‑ Bill O’Reilly.” And after he uses the slur “f-ggot” at one point, his counselor cautions, “Tyler, you’re going to have to cut down on that f-ggot word.” If anything happens, don’t f‑‑‑in’ blame me, white America. So on “Radicals,” he instructs, “Hey, don’t do anything that I say in this song, OK? It’s f‑‑‑in’ fiction. But he’s also aware that his new fans are hanging on his every word. Make no mistake: Tyler, The Creator very much intends to shock. “I hate my f‑‑‑ing life,” he says on “Goblin.” “I hope you die in a fiery death,” he barks on “Nightmare.” Indeed, the album ends with him killing all his friends, while the video for “Yonkers” focuses on the word “Kill” tattooed on his right hand, shows him eating a giant insect and vomiting (apparently for real), and concludes with him putting a noose around his neck and hanging himself. Tyler, the Creator is a Grammy winner and Jaden Smith is celebrating On Sunday, the rapper, 28, won the best rap album prize for his album Igor. Goblin is a loose concept album in which Tyler repeatedly talks with his robotically voiced therapist, who’s trying to get to the bottom of his bottomless pit of “issues.” At the core is his seething hatred for … everyone. He repeatedly compares himself to Hitler.Įcstasy, Xanax, marijuana and crack all get nods along the way. On a song about oral sex with an unprintable title, he states his willingness to hit any woman who won’t perform sexually. “I’ll crash that f‑‑‑in’ airplane that that f-ggot B.o.B is in/And stab Bruno Mars in his g‑‑d‑‑n esophagus,” he brags on “Yonkers.” And Taylor Swift becomes a victim of his pornographic fantasies. You can add to the list of people Tyler sneers at parents, police, women, white people, middle-class families, homosexuals and some big-name entertainers. “Radicals” rants, “Kill people, burn s‑‑‑, f‑‑‑ school/I’m a f‑‑‑in’ radical, n-gga/ … F‑‑‑ your traditions, f‑‑‑ your positions/F‑‑‑ your religions, f‑‑‑ your decisions.” “Nightmare” adds, “F‑‑‑ heaven, I ain’t showing no religion respect.” And then “Yonkers” blasts, “Jesus called, he said he’s sick of the disses/I told him to quit b‑‑chin’, this isn’t a f‑‑‑in’ hotline.” The intentionally misspelled “Sandwitches” insists that folks who go to church are “whores and liars, scumbags and the dirt/ … You told me God was the answer/When I ask him for s‑‑‑, I get no answer/So God is the cancer.” Activities Tyler graphically details include fetishized sex, bestiality, necrophilia, physical abuse of women, raping pregnant women, vampirism, suicide, mass murder, dismemberment and cannibalism. So if you don’t really need to know any more, please feel free to stop reading here.Įven a sanitized litany of the degradation Tyler delights in is enough to make Eminem and Howard Stern squirm in their chairs. And there’s barely a taboo or deviancy or criminal act known to humanity that Tyler doesn’t seek to shatter or indulge or commit. Hundreds of f-words float around in the lyrics. Though we’ve already posted a content warning at the top of this review, the quantity and intensity of graphic, profane content on this album warrants another strong warning.
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