What does odd future mean

Consists of over 60 members, of which a mere eleven make music. Tyler has stated this several times, failing to fully deface all rumors. Person 2: Yeah. Have you? Or have you just followed the recent hype following Tyler's "Yonkers"? Person: Uhhhh A group of Satanic skateboarding rapist rappers. The realest niggaz alive. Dumbass : You listen to Odd future wolf gang kill them all?

But really, what the fk is the big deal about Odd Future? They make their own beats: no samples. They are young and prodigal. They are anarchists — smart, and catchy ones. Who the fk is talking about Odd Future? The Roots' drummer and ringleader Questlove supposedly helped get them booked for Fallon after hearing about them from Mos Def, who was in the house at both of their two shows in New York City.

Everyone in rap is excited about them right now. Questlove even had Jay-Z watching last night. And after Kanye West, Rhianna, Drake, and a handful of other acts made all the more powerful by Jay-Z's anointment of status, they very well could be causing you to lock away your loved ones shortly while you listen to them in secret.

Finally, why the fk are they always screaming about "SWAG"? It's hard to explain. Tyler's asthma is "SWAG" but so are women, fighting, and telling everyone to "motherfk off.

When you find yourself chanting it at random in a few weeks after getting OFWGKTA's dark hooks stuck to the side of your head, you'll understand. United States. I'm not expecting anyone. They are an internationally famous band who, in the 12 months since Billboard magazine proclaimed them the future of the music business , have parlayed their notoriety into awards an MTV VMA for Most Promising Newcomer , a global chain of pop-up shops, a book and a TV series but not, as yet, into actually selling many records.

Goblin shifted 45, copies in the US in its first week. Not bad for alternative rap, but nothing to give hip-hop's major players sleepless nights. You could argue that this tells you more about the uncommerciality of their contents, from the stark, oppressive sound of Goblin to The Internet's fractured psychedelic soul. Or it might simply tell you that people who like Odd Future haven't yet come to terms with idea of paying for their music: before Goblin, Odd Future famously gave away more than 20 albums of material free via the internet.

Either way, expectations are high for their first commercially released group effort, The OF Tape Vol 2. In the moments when he's not loudly insisting that he doesn't give a fuck, you get the distinct impression its prospective reception is weighing rather heavily on Tyler's mind. I have my doubts. Everybody's going on it and I just think, fuck, everybody might hate this shit. Everybody might go: 'What the fuck is this? We wanted this, we wanted that. We made an album we wanted to make.

If everybody hates it, OK. We have an album we like. To try to avoid that happening, the record label has bucked the straitened financial climate and flown me to LA for an interview as part of the forthcoming album's promotional campaign.

The one big flaw in this plan is that — contradictory as ever — Odd Future won't let anyone hear a note of said album, and furthermore don't want to talk about it, except in the vaguest terms imaginable: an afternoon of probing reveals only that Hodgy Beats thinks it it's "awesome" and that track seven is Tyler's favourite.

The interview comes with other pre-conditions. I am advised by management not to ask anything about Thebe Kgositsile, better known as Earl Sweatshirt , who before his mother intervened and packed him off to the Coral Reef Academy, "a residential school helping troubled youth overcome emotional difficulties and substance abuse" in Samoa, was responsible for perhaps the most acclaimed album in the Odd Future discography, the startlingly intense Earl.

He recently seems to have returned to LA and is back in contact with the others, but his story hangs over Odd Future: his disappearance was the subject of an 8,word essay in, of all places, the New Yorker.

Furthermore, as I arrive at the photo studio, I'm greeted by someone from Odd Future's team, who offers me advice on how to approach interviewing them, complete with vague but dire presentiments of what might happen if the members of the band the Guardian described as "the world's most notorious rap group" become bored by my line of questioning.

It doesn't seem unkindly meant, but it all feels a little baffling after a couple of hours in their company. Odd Future certainly offer a journalist what you might call the full panoply of hip-hop interview experiences.

There is the earnest, level-headed entrepreneur: Syd Tha Kid, who moved from running her own flyer-distribution service to opening a studio in her parents' house — she met Odd Future when its members assembled on her lawn in a bid to get free studio time — and talks a little wistfully about leaving music behind entirely in order to get a masters' degree in business finance, then move into real estate or perhaps investment banking.

Equally, there is the rapper who's attached so much gold jewellery to his teeth as to render himself almost completely incomprehensible Mike G and the believer in the grand hip-hop tradition of turning up to interviews so stupefied by marijuana that the most straightforward inquiry appears to be an impossible conundrum.

There is the wiry, intense Gerard "Hodgy Beats" Long, who discusses pulling himself out of a difficult childhood and turbulent adolescence: "At the end of the day," he says, "you gotta stop jacking off, you gotta stop fucking around, you gotta make your mind up.