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Songs That Tell Us Where Music Is Going. Late- night- television tapings attract a certain type of crowd: tourists in the mood for an uncomplicated thrill after a day at Universal Studios and Madame Tussauds. On a rainy January night in Los Angeles, the turnout at “Jimmy Kimmel Live!” was no exception. The overlap between the audience and the fan base for the musical guest — the Internet, a six- piece band of black alt- kids playing retro- futuristic R.& B.

If anything, the crowd looked as if they’d be right at home seeing Jimmy Buffett. But as the Internet cannonballed into its first song, “Get Away,” a thumping anthem about mollifying an unhappy girlfriend, the audience members threw up their hands and bounced along to the beat. The women in attendance seemed especially mesmerized by Sydney Bennett — better known as Syd tha Kyd — the frontwoman, whose Tiger Beat sex appeal gave her performance a depth charge. Bennett, 2. 3, brown- skinned with a blond- tinged Mohawk, has the swayback stance of an adolescent skater and dresses like one too: On the “Kimmel” set, she wore black vans, a black T- shirt and black jeans low on her hips.

As she sang, she roamed across each quadrant of the small stage, staring deep into the throng, as if to find out whether her crush had bothered to make an appearance at the show. To create her stage presence, Bennett studied the R.& B. Bennett flirted with the crowd, peeking at them through her heavily lashed eyes, shooting sly smiles at fans and gently lifting her chin to acknowledge those she knew — among them, her mom, Janel, and her godmother, Sheryl. Drivers For Samsung Galaxy Note 2 here. Graeme Mitchell for The New York Times.

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The TV appearance was a rarity for the members of the Internet, who, as their name suggests, live online and work from home. Two of the band’s three albums were created and recorded almost entirely at the house where Bennett lives with her parents in L. A.’s Mid- City neighborhood. But their most recent record, last year’s “Ego Death,” caught the attention of the National Academy of Recording Arts and Sciences, and it was nominated for a Grammy in the Best Urban Contemporary Album category. For decades, the music industry fancied itself an apparatus for tastemaking, but as technology has made labels’ role less relevant, that has ceased to be the case. Listeners decide what’s popular now, and record labels have to find a way to attach themselves to it. Aside from a few big- name acts, most artists are doomed to languish in relative obscurity with middling profits.

This is usually seen as a tragedy — the death of a musical middle class — but it has also presented an opportunity for artists to avoid the suffocating effects of the label machine. And so the Internet has carved out an entirely new corner of R.& B., thanks mostly to Bennett: an androgyne who sings seductive incantations about falling in and out of love with women.

After the performance, a small constellation of cousins, little sisters and girlfriends milled about, snacking on doughnuts in the greenroom and helping the band pack up. After the equipment was loaded into a caravan of modest sedans and S. U. V. s, the band stood in a circle behind the studio, and someone produced a celebratory blunt.

As the smoke drifted overhead, the conversation turned to the next day. The group needed to practice for the first stop on their upcoming tour, which would start a few days later in Japan. Jameel Bruner, who plays the keyboard, wouldn’t be able to come until he was done with his shift at Amoeba Music, where he works as a clerk. There was drama to discuss, too. The 1. 7- year- old guitar player, Steve Lacy, had been photographed smoking weed, and someone had texted the picture to his mother, who was not happy.

Despite the chilly El Ni. They eventually agreed to regroup at their home base, Bennett’s house, to make sandwiches, catch their performance on “Kimmel,” smoke again and, eventually, crash. The band’s name started out as a joke, while Bennett was still a member of Odd Future, the unruly hip- hop collective that caused a frenzy in the music industry when they broke out six years ago.

In 2. 01. 1, a journalist interviewing the crew asked one member, Vyron Turner (who goes by Left Brain), where he was from. People Turner and Bennett’s age are defined by a completely different geography, the social networks and websites they spend their time on.

Odd Future was the epitome of this new statelessness: They were neither engineered by a label nor hometown heroes, but something wildly different. Sydney Bennett, known as Syd tha Kyd, in her home studio in Mid- City. Graeme Mitchell for The New York Times. Odd Future dominated many conversations about pop culture and the future of music by the end of 2.

They had released all of their early work — a barrage of clever mixtapes, striking artwork and bizarro music videos — for free on Tumblr and You. Tube. Their sound was prodigious. And not only was their music different but they also looked different too, a bunch of black weirdos who skated in their free time and moshed onstage. The frenzy surrounding Odd Future reached its peak in 2. Cartoon Network gave the group their own television show; plans for an Odd Future retail shop were in the works.

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It’s just that Beyoncé released “Formation” on a Saturday, and then performed it.

Labels were desperate to sign deals with the group, and Sony Music Entertainment succeeded. The crew had the upper hand and persuaded the label to give them their own imprint, and to award each member a cushy solo record deal. Bennett, the D. J., got one, too. Music came naturally to Bennett.

Though her parents are 9- to- 5 people — Janel is a city clerk and her father, Howard, owns a manufacturing company based in China — her uncle, Mikey Bennett, is a producer in Jamaica. Loverman.”) When she was young, the family took vacations to the island, and Bennett hung out in the studio and watched her uncle work. In high school, she took music- technology classes and piano lessons; at night, she devoured beat- making tutorials and messed around with music software. She downloaded tracks from Lime. Wire (a file- sharing network like Napster) and remixed them using Pro Tools and Garage.

Band. She didn’t need much capital to be a producer, just good Google skills and a wealth of persistence and patience. Bennett gravitated toward artists who had pioneered brand- new sounds: The sonic spaciness of Missy Elliott, the stanky soul of Erykah Badu and the acid jazz of Jamiroquai. Pharrell Williams, the original black skater weirdo, is her patron saint.

And like most kids interested in music and living in Los Angeles in the mid- 2. Bennett knew about a teenager named Tyler Okonma who called himself Tyler, the Creator.

He had a sizable following on My. Space, where he released his music. She browsed through his page, listening to the songs he posted, too. She admired his ability to create deeply complex soundscapes, and she eventually messaged him, seeking advice on ways to advance her own style. The two became friends, trading feedback on songs, which put her into Okonma’s orbit. And when Okonma needed a place to record the early Odd Future mixtapes, Bennett offered up her home studio. She produced some of their early tracks and eventually became the group’s D.

J. In old footage of early Odd Future shows, Bennett plays songs from a laptop on a table at the back of the stage. Tomboyish, in a muscle tee and a short haircut, she crackles with the manic energy that Odd Future shows were famous for.

She was generally indistinguishable from the boys in the group. The Internet rehearsing with a high- school marching- band drummer, second from left — including, left to right, Matt Martin, Steve Lacy, Jameel Bruner, Christopher A. Smith, Sydney Bennett and Patrick Paige II — before the band’s appearance on . Christian Clancy, one of the group’s managers, had also been a marketing executive at Interscope Records, and around 2. Bennett and Martin’s tight friendship and encouraged them to start recording together.

After all, they liked the same sounds: jazz, old- school slow jams, neo- soul. So they began experimenting, and these experiments would eventually lead to the formation of the Internet. Odd Future was a rare example of a viral sensation with lasting power; the music industry is rife with the ghosts of web talents who couldn’t be repackaged as megastars. The terms of the Internet’s deal with Sony “allowed us to shape ourselves,” Bennett says.

The band is artistically cocooned, trying to create, as she sees it, an entirely new style of R.& B., one that includes all types of desire. It wasn’t a big deal because, well, it wasn’t a big deal. But Bennett frequently found herself having to defend her inclusion in the group because Okonma’s lyrics were laced with homophobic slurs and rape jokes, and her presence was interpreted as tacit approval. Bennett thought this was a bit unfair given that, as the D. J., she had the least to do with the lyrical content. I looked up to him. He was a very artistic guy, and I saw past the few words that he chose to use, and I never really felt any kind of way about it.”In a sense, she says, Odd Future’s lack of sensitivity helped prepare her for a life in the public eye — even if it made her a controversial figure.

She felt they shared a connection, one born of “not being a typical black kid or even a popular kid.” But eventually the hypermasculinity and caustic sense of humor wore on Bennett, who is naturally low- key. She made tearful calls to her mother from the road, wondering aloud whether she should quit. Bennett also struggled with depression, worsened by the stress of touring and feeling disconnected from her family and her girlfriend at the time. She says that no one in the group — other than Martin — seemed to care. Her musical experiments with Martin had begun to congeal into the core of their first album, “Purple Naked Ladies,” an amorphous but promising collection of experimental jam sessions and fuzzed- out, vibey tracks.