The most polarizing figure in hip-hop today never asked to become a provocateur or rap reformist, but he was happy to oblige. When confectioner Lil Yachty and his team of teenaged separatists broke rank, more influenced by Kid Cudi and Chief Keef and pop-rockers Coldplay than the cliche rap Mt. Rushmore types, they challenged long-established ideas about what rap should sound like.

Yachty’s refusal to engage with rap’s legacy renewed a culture clash that’s been waged between warring factions for decades now. But his enthusiastic, sometimes silly delivery and his all-around cheerfulness have endeared him to a new generation of rap fans. Feel-good tunes quickly made him both a leader of the current rap youth movement and the one most likely to cross over to pop audiences. Platforms of positivity and inclusivity seem a fitting countermeasure in a climate where the most popular rap group in the country will denounce a colleague for being gay. A selling point has always been the whimsy, Yachty’s flippant disregard for convention, focusing on playful melodies that sound like jingles for Nicktoons. He is most comfortable when gleeful and thrives on fun, but can struggle to sustain ideas. Lil Yachty’s debut album Teenage Emotions, released after a breakout mixtape and an Apple Exclusive, is his most complete work yet, but it doesn’t contain the nuance its cover and title suggest.

Teenage Emotions feels hollow next to the real, complicated emotions of teens; his stories here are usually rendered without depth or dimension, more like sketches of impulses. But in his element, Yachty’s rare feel for earworms and his unorthodox cadences let him cut corners, unleashing a series of non-sequiturs with such levity that it’s like frolicking in a bouncy castle. He is our master of joy. Songs like “All Around Me” and “FYI (Know Now)” fill bubblegum productions with his animated flows. “Harley” leaps and bounds through repetitions. The intro, “Like a Star,” beams with exuberance before drifting into a more delicate tune, one that is genuinely pleasant, and it’s the first of many signs that Yachty is figuring things out.

Yachty has polished the edges of his Auto-Tuned warbles since the Lil Boat mixtape, which were often grating in their attempts to find a pitch. And he’s growing more proficient in songcraft, constructing tunes that don’t suddenly sputter and stall out. Early records sounded like they were carelessly-assembled and that cheekiness was almost half of the appeal. But Teenage Emotions is refined and moves with more purpose. Over a woozy WondaGurl production, Yachty pushes in and out of falsetto on “Lady in Yellow,” turning a repeating stanza into a refrain but occasionally changing the lyrics. Opposite singer Grace, who he originally teamed up with for DJ Cassidy’s “Honor,” he seems poised for a crossover on “Running With a Ghost” and his Diplo collaboration, “Forever Young,” is a satisfying pop rap delight. These moments showcase Yachty’s charms. Where he gets into trouble is when he seeks the approval of rap pundits.

At some point, the finger-wagging purists got into Yachty’s head because being the scapegoat for ruining an entire genre can have that effect on a person. But he dramatically overcorrected, spending far too much energy trying to pass himself off as an acceptable rapper’s rapper, or as someone agreeable to classicist sensibilities. Several songs on Teenage Emotions try to fit into a model Yachty was never built for, and he ends up with lines like, “She blow that dick like a cello.” Listening to him tense up during tough talk on “DN Freestyle” and “X Men” is painful. These moments are off message and off brand. What results is an album that’s half fun, half struggle—loosening one minute then tightening up the next, but always dilly dallying.

Despite some indecision on to whom he's speaking, Yachty does challenge himself to take on new roles on Teenage Emotions, and in certain instances he’s bewitching. On “Made of Glass,” a soothing synthpop ballad, he sings of unrequited love, unseen by the girl of his dreams. As he moves in unison with the sample on “No More,” which is distorted and disorienting, he laments being pursued by gold diggers. It’s one of the few times he engages thoughtfully with his celebrity. On “Priorities,” he assesses the decisions he’s made, finding a nice singsong balance. Though far too long and sometimes aimless, Teenage Emotions is the mind of a child star blown-up and on exhibition at the epicenter of modern rap. It’s there to be gawked at and appreciated, and then maybe enjoyed.