XXXTENTACION

SKINS

In his meteoric but short career, XXXTentaction conveyed his emotions with such rawness that it stopped hip hop in its tracks. He was never quite there in terms of lyrics and songwriting, though, and SKINS doesn't turn out to be the album where it all finally clicks into place and he creates the masterpiece some believed he was capable of. There are no songs as refined or showing such potential as ?'s “infinity (888)” and “Moonlight”, and many of them feel like half ideas.

The songs are short, not mixed particularly well and—perhaps due to his untimely passing—feel unfinished. Had X been around to see this album all the way through and hash out some of its rushed wrinkles, it has the potential to have been his best project yet. But as it sits right now, Skins renders itself another opportunity for XXXTentacion's cult-like following to continue enjoying new music.

These unconventional genre hybrids point to an unexplored direction that XXX might have veered toward if he hadn't been killed, but unfortunately this is as far as they go.

One unpalatable explanation for XXXTentacion’s success is that there are people out there stupid or disaffected enough to be turned on by his damaged nihilism. But there’s also just enough evidence of a maverick talent on Skins to make you see why others are willing to hold their noses, ignore the stern op-ed pieces and dive in. Whether you can do that is a matter for your conscience.

Skins remains almost as morally muddy as XXX’s previous output, privileging the emo rapper’s pain above all else, but maintaining his deserved reputation for genre-shredding timeliness.

It’s possible that this all sounds fresh to XXXTentacion’s core audience of disaffected teenagers—navel-gazing angst, after all, transcends generation—but Skins fails to bring anything genuinely new to the table.

Skins is one of the year's least gratifying albums, but out of everyone involved in its creation, X is probably the least at blame.