In a recent interview, Miami producer Ronny J noted that the Clipse’s Lord Willin’ was the first album he ever bought. He referred to it, tellingly, as “the Clipse album with ‘Grindin’’ on it,” adding, “That beat was just so amazing.” “Grindin’” is the kind of song that’s felt as much as it’s heard, its kick drums landing with a cartoonish thud that dominates the mix. It’s easy to imagine how that 2002 hit might have shaped Ronny’s understanding of what a rap beat should sound like. At the age of 25, he’s emerged as an elder statesman in the raucous subculture of SoundCloud rap. His early work with Denzel Curry more or less created the template for an entire generation of South Florida artists: overdriven, in-the-red songs built for tinny speakers and irresponsible volumes.

Ronny’s sound cuts a contrast against the gleaming production that rules much of today’s rap radio, but it is not without precedent. The Southeast has long offered a counternarrative to mainstream fidelity, one which runs from the gothic murk of Three 6 Mafia to the scuzzy aesthetic of early Raider Klan to the blown-out chaos of Waka Flocka Flame mixtapes. Ronny’s innovation was embracing not only the texture of distortion but the willfully amateur spirit that goes with it, arriving at a sound that has as much in common with lo-fi punk as it does rap. He didn’t have to travel far to find rappers willing to tackle his beats, whether with dead-eyed stoicism (Smokepurpp) or unhinged intensity (Lil Pump).

OMGRONNY, Ronny J’s debut collection for a major label, showcases some new collaborations, as well as the producer’s first forays into rapping. The guests featured here—Denzel Curry, Smokepurpp, XXXTentacion, Wifisfuneral—are, for better and for worse, the most recognizable faces of South Florida rap in 2018. With the notable exception of Curry, none of these artists are objectively great rappers per se; the success of their songs hinges on atmosphere and attitude. “Snakes,” which features Wifisfuneral’s heavy-lidded rapping, sounds like a PlayStation plugged into a thrift store TV while a car blasting rap radio idles outside. On “Glacier,” Curry barks his bars like a hardcore singer, surrounded by synths that reverberate like steel drums played underwater. “Costa Rica” is the closest thing here to a mainstream rap song: chiming synths that recall Metro Boomin’s lustrous style are coated in a thick layer of grime, while Ski Mask the Slump God does his best approximation of Travis Scott’s Auto-Tuned yelp.

The most surprising thing about OMGRONNY is how strong Ronny’s own songs are. He displays a better sense of melody than any of his guests, and his persona—successful artist with an air of understated confidence—feels like a breath of fresh air in a subgenre where the usual rap machismo is often paired with emo’s self-pity. On “824,” the music is melancholic, anchored by a lurching beat and reverb-soaked minor keys, but Ronny details a life where flexing is incidental. “Everybody knows that I got it/Ride around the city in exotics,” he sings in a tone that veers from slippery to earnest. Lead single “Banded Up” mines similar territory with even more refined production: the primary beat rattles loudly while a secondary rhythm patters softly atop the track’s synths. The song’s chorus revolves around Ronny refusing sex, making clear that he’s the pursued, not the pursuer. (Drake wishes he could strike such an unconcerned pose.) Unfortunately, SoundCloud rap’s most reprehensible heel, XXXTentacion, drops in for a guest verse that’s both unnecessary and jarring. When he raps “She got lockjaw, I put my dick all in her face, ha ha” in an adolescent squeak, it breaks the song’s spell.

As the South Florida scene continues its journey from regional curiosity to focal point in the national rap landscape, the primary question its artists face is one of compromise. Will promising rappers file off their hard edges in search of wider acceptance, or continue to make music that’s both sonically and thematically confrontational? On his own tracks, Ronny J finds an intriguing middle ground between these approaches, pairing the undiluted sound of his scene with a less abrasive persona. At his best, he sounds like he’s already outgrowing the subculture he helped create.