Of the next-gen rap auteurs that characterize MIKE’s 10k label—Sideshow and Anysia Kym, to name two—Niontay has his finger on the wildest and weirdest pulses. Since crashing into the scene with the bold-faced statement “Real hiphop,” the posse cut where he put Earl Sweatshirt and MIKE in some of their most audacious environments yet, Niontay has kept his trailblazer reputation up with projects like Dontay’s Inferno and Fada<3of>. His movements around the country—he was born in Milwaukee, raised in Central Florida, and now lives in Brooklyn—inform his geographically blurred sound. Chipmunk flows and equally chirpy beats bridge the gap between the Florida fast movement, Detroit cloud rap, and the hazier elements of New York’s young alternative scenes. With the help of 454, who hosts the tape via his Gatorface alter ego, Niontay lets the contrast between these disparate ideas and sounds ring loud on Soulja Hate Repellant.

The mixtape doesn’t veer away from Niontay’s established sounds, but it does probe their deepest and murkiest corners. Niontay’s style—his slurring, nasal voice that sometimes renders bars indecipherable—appears faster, blurrier, and more piercing. The beats are from a likeminded set of new-age underground producers like Surf Gang’s Harrison, young Raleigh-based hotshot Dylvinci, and wild cards like Jay Critch collaborator Laron. “Rockoutcentury” quickly establishes the tape’s central idea with some quiet 808s and nostalgic synth pads that don’t vary much, but the tracks on Soulja Hate Repellant don’t stick around long enough to fatigue.

This lane can be surprisingly wide. The immense jump from “100days100nights,” a smatter of excited drums and synth patches that make for a perfect pregame soundtrack, to “3am@Tony’s,” a lethargic swamp of blown-out low-end, feels like a vivid look into Niontay’s hyperactive mind. This is a road where nothing stays in the same lane for too long. Wild swings—the baffling squeals on “soulja hate/ Mr.Havemyway x Mr.Beatdaroad” or the surprisingly fitting samples of the titular guitarist on “Mark William Lewis Flow”—are logical byproducts of the meeting of two minds as unrestrained as 454 and Niontay.

The tape’s pivotal moment comes early, when Earl Sweatshirt appears, drenched in more Auto-Tune than ever before, on “Cressidaway!/ TPGeeK.” The beat, produced by New York alternative touchstone Tony Seltzer, is little more than a rumbling bass tone and some loose hi-hats, restrained even by the tape’s standards. Niontay’s bars blur into one another, veering toward the point of unintelligibility. At one point, he goes feral and devolves into some beautiful Auto-Tuned growling before moving into a much more quickly paced latter half. Earl Sweatshirt isn’t a total stranger to this terrain, but he’s rarely sounded this lethargic, as if he were doing a downbeat impression of 56 Nights-era Future. The performance might baffle anyone still clinging onto hope that Earl is the next coming of Nas, but it’s a testament to the longtime experimentalist’s unwavering interest in rap’s most current and fringe corners. It’s also evidence that Niontay and his generation of oddball upstarts have lessons to offer the old guard.

Soulja Hate Repellant feels like the most instinctual and reflexive version of Niontay yet. Though 454 takes on a DJ Drama-esque role, rather than directly producing any material, the underground guru’s guidance can be heard throughout the record, especially in moments like the Florida fast tribute on “Dadecountydates.” Compared to his process on projects like Dontay’s Inferno, where Niontay needed encouragement from MIKE to settle on the sound, Soulja Hate Repellant sees Niontay working confidently in his own skin, whether that means the Miami bass simulation of “Neymar” or the absurd 8-bit jerk beat on solidarity anthem “Free Luigi.” Niontay’s bars are equally loose, largely built on Wayne-esque mixtape shit-talking, though it veers into paranoid territory on lines like “Sleep anxiety, geeked outside my body when I wrote this song.” The grab-bag vibe can make the tape feel too loose, especially for anyone unfamiliar with Niontay’s freakout flows. But it’s fascinating to hear the rapper taking potshots from half-court with conviction. It’s even more surprising how many shots make it in.