Madlib's output is predicated on the unpredictable, but usually his stylistic jumps take place from collection to collection. On King of the Wigflip, the script flips from song to song. The result can be dizzying, with the minimalist rumble of "Heat" nestling against the hypnotic space funk of "The Ox." On "Blindfold Test," the center evaporates entirely, and each minute brings a new motif of jittery turntable abstractions. To say that the rhymes are generally subpar is not incorrect, but it misses the point. This is a showcase for Madlib in all of his mercurial glory.