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Browse the whole Camp Flog Gnaw lineup — anything you save lands on this schedule.
Harlem's most style-conscious rapper, always a couple of years ahead of the room — cloud-rap haze, chopped-and-screwed detours, and high-fashion swagger folded into records that set trends instead of chasing them.
Childish Gambino
Donald Glover's music project outgrew the joke a decade ago — psychedelic funk and gospel-sized soul from a writer who treats an album like a screenplay.
Odd Future's ringleader turned auteur — every record a full costume change, every tour a proper production, Grammy-decorated and still restless.
Bay Area collective making scrappy, guitar-flecked rap with a genuine band mentality — posse-cut energy and genre-blind hooks in the post-Brockhampton mold.
Alemeda
Ethiopian-American songwriter running soul phrasing through fuzzed-out 90s alt-rock — sweet on the surface, deliberately scuffed underneath.
Dev Hynes's velvety art-R&B — '80s soul textures, jazz chords, and quiet heartbreak from one of pop's most sought-after collaborators.
CA7RIEL & Paco Amoroso
Argentine duo who treat trap, funk and stadium rock as one costume box — absurdist, immaculately played, and far stranger live than on record.
Pusha T and Malice, reunited — coke-rap scripture over pristine beats, one of rap's great comebacks and a masterclass in brotherly chemistry.
Doechii
Switches cadence mid-bar like she's changing characters — theatrical, technically ferocious rap that never sits still long enough to be filed.
Domo Genesis
The steadiest technician of the Odd Future crop — unhurried, blunted, boom-bap-leaning rap that never needed a gimmick to justify the verse.
Compresses more into two minutes than most rappers manage in ten — dense, muttered writing over loops that sound like they're decaying in real time.
UK underground rap's internet-native riser — lo-fi menace and offhand melody built for the timeline, low-lit tracks that travel by repost.
Fousheé
A honeyed voice pointed at grunge guitars and glitching drums — started as a sampled hook and turned into one of the least predictable writers in alt-R&B.
Unhinged Brooklyn art-rock — yelping, swaggering, and critically adored, like the Stones reassembled by art students mid-fever.
Geezer
Kevin Abstract and Dominic Fike as a two-piece — scrappy, guitar-led songs from two writers who both left bigger projects to make exactly this.
Memphis crunk revival with a foghorn flow — every set a gym-class riot, 'F.N.F.' still the roll-call anthem.
Velvet-toned bilingual soul that drifts between doo-wop pastiche and perreo without ever raising its voice — 'Telepatía' cool as a permanent state.
Larry June & 2 Chainz
The unhurried Bay Area health-food evangelist paired with Atlanta's most quotable veteran — luxury-rap deadpan over soul loops, and neither one wastes a syllable.
Funk-flecked Gen-Z bedroom pop — 'Chest Pain (I Love)' and a fast-rising live rep, Steve Lacy instincts with his own snap.
Navy Blue
Skateboarder-turned-rapper murmuring grief and lineage over dusty, unresolved loops — meditative rap that asks you to lean in rather than nod along.
Paris Texas
LA duo welding distorted guitars to rap that sneers more than it boasts — abrasive, funny, and built for rooms where the barrier gets tested.
Ray Vaughn
Long Beach lyricist with a comedian's timing and a battle-rapper's density — the kind of writer who buries the best line three bars past where you stopped listening.
Technically sharp West Coast rapper who arrived fully formed and hasn't wasted a verse yet — the co-signs keep stacking.
T-Pain
Made Auto-Tune an instrument instead of a repair tool and spent a decade being blamed for it — then reminded everyone the voice underneath was always the point.
Teezo Touchdown
Nails in the hair, rock guitar under the raps, and a croon that lands somewhere between a hook and a punchline — a Texas one-off with total commitment to the bit.
Thundercat
Six-string bass played like a lead instrument, sung over in a helium falsetto — virtuosity worn so lightly it reads as comedy until you follow the changes.
Comedian and rapper in equal measure — the jokes are real and so, annoyingly, are the songs, beats from rap's A-list included.
AzChike
Off-kilter LA ratchet rap delivered in a yelp — bouncy, profane and gleefully unserious, built for a car with the windows down.
Barcelona rapper whose deadpan Spanish trap arrived with an immediately recognisable sneer — viral freestyles and a delivery that turns minimalism into menace.
'Beanie' broke him everywhere — woozy, warm bedroom soul from Baton Rouge, falsetto sighs over underwater guitar.
Deb Never
Grunge guitar tone and a half-whispered vocal over hip-hop drums — hazy, lovesick songs that sound recorded at 3am and mixed to stay there.
Genre-smashing Melbourne punk-rap — riffs, bars, and zero regard for lanes, delivered with a hardcore band's physicality.
Gia Fu
Kilo Kish
A designer's brain applied to pop — spoken-sung, sharply written art-pop about consumption and self-image, delivered with unnerving calm.
La Reezy
Left Brain
Odd Future's in-house noise merchant — beats built from blown-out drums and horror-movie synths, the sound of the crew's rawest early run.
Luh Tyler
Florida teenager who raps like he's already bored of being rich — slurred, unbothered flows over glassy beats, charisma doing most of the work.
Slurred, meditative rap over his own woozy loops — grief processed at half speed, underground New York's quiet center of gravity.
Mike G
The most level-headed voice of the Odd Future roster — smooth, conversational rap that chose craft over shock and quietly kept going.
PARTYOF2
ZelooperZ
Detroit shape-shifter who yelps, croons and raps within the same bar — a painter's approach to rap where the wrong-sounding choice is the point.
