John Bemis
Blogs Editor
@bemiscourant
Rap collective Odd Future’s cultish following has furthered the career’s of many so-so artists, but none more so than Tyler. OF’s fearless ringleader had revelled in his obnoxiousness by forging a career as a prophet to volatile, youth-led chaos. Stellar albums like Wolf and Goblin found their depth as he focused on his own darker truths through freakish, peerlessly abominable rap. His offensive and rebellious-for-the-sake-of-it persona earned him the superlative as class-clown in the rap world.
Yet, the overnight buzz surrounding Tyler and his posse has reached a relative radio silence. Outside of individual member’s projects the mob seems aloof, key members like Tyler, Earl Sweatshirt, and Frank Ocean focused on molding their own artistic personality. Where Tyler once felt like an established mind, Cherry Bomb is where he has little to prove and little-to-no creative follow-through as a result. It lacks concept, a collection of haphazard experiments culminated in a wholly disappointing release
Any track on Cherry Bomb that gives a sense of lyrical improvement is simultaneously negated by another. It seems like Tyler is making a contrived effort at no longer using f-bombs and brutality to capture attention. For a moment, he’s resenting his attention (‘DEATHCAMP’) and mocking misogynistic cliches (‘PERFECT’), yet quickly falls back into his own evils as sexual villain (‘BLOW MY LOAD’) and morbid egomaniac (‘CHERRY BOMB’).
Maybe he wants to move beyond this truculence, but at this point it’s an integral part of his personality. Previous records were at least as fun as they were intentionally ugly, but Tyler seems to have tamed. Cherry‘s lack of focus and intention keeps it from holding attention, despite what tricks Tyler tries to pull from his sleeves. Uncredited guest appearances from Lil Wayne, Kanye West, and Pharrell Williams seem contrived, as though Tyler is asking favors to patch the holes in his work.
The instrumentals on Cherry Bomb remain the record’s only respectable aspect. At his worst, Tyler can mix a simple but impenetrable trap groove; at his best, he can summon a full psych-soul quartet, mixing small yet effective Jazz samples into a lush montage. It’s work more detailed than should be expected of him, even if it’s cheesy. Though the title track’s noisy Grips-esque production proves a worthwhile effort, it’s one a little late to the trend.
Cherry Bomb is a record that gives off many impressions of Tyler, but above all reveals a two-facedness. He’s proved time and time again an ability to find respect and credibility in being artfully truculent. A small fraction of this material suggests that he’s aware of it, but even more reveals that he’d like his troublemaking day’s to be over, that he wants to be a new Tyler. It makes for something enjoyable yet wholly dishonest.
Perhaps it would be more interesting to see him pick up where Wolf left off, introspecting further into his turbulent personality to a more incendiary effect. To see him jump far to the left of his established style would be just as fun, but this project shows him teetering somewhere in the middle. Where there was a sort of strength in his former disobedience, Cherry Bomb loses it in nervous maturity.
Where it’s admirable that Tyler try to make an evolution, his impact relies too heavily upon exceeding the expectations of his delinquency. To defy for defiance’s sake was a success, but to aimlessly pursue something beyond his capacity proves a fatally paper-thin character. Cherry Bomb is most pathetic as it played tragically into what could have been expected of him; an attempt at growing too quickly, and the resulting anticlimax.
Rating: 3.5/10
