
Having studied and truly internalized the pressure-point stimulation of Eminem, who made his millions in part by identifying and uttering the most provocative statements possible in any given scenario, Odd Future waged a campaign of deliberate transgression that netted support and outrage in equal measure but, importantly, used the attention to shine a light on the stellar crafts of its members.

As crabby as it was savvy, the collective built a vast and impressive catalogue of prickly songs that lashed out at icons, idols, and influencers high and low. Members featured heavily on each other’s songs, taking a page from the Wu-Tang playbook in the quest for domination. Odd Future was a self-contained unit housing all the rappers, singers, and producers needed to make records.


The group’s open contempt for tastemakers and A-listers ran counter to the charm offensive that got you into a career in hip-hop back then, when legends were built one blog post, famous co-sign, and guest spot at a time. Call Me If You Get Lost is Tyler riffling through old yearbooks, laughing at how small your youthful worries seem now but quietly missing their simplicity.Ī decade ago, Odd Future - a ragtag group of rabble-rousing artists, skaters, and jokesters hailing from Southern California - stormed the gates of the rap game without the support of the major labels and the popular bloggers that, for a time, acted as intermediaries between listeners and the endless flood of new music available online.
