“Because the Internet reveals that behind the laughs and punch lines — yes, they’re there — is a man just as lonely, confused and depressed as the rest of us.” — Brianna Patterson

It wasn’t always easy to take Childish Gambino seriously. It was difficult to expect anything more than musical comedy, the kind of rap in which every verse must end with a punch line, from the alter ego of actor and comedian Donald Glover — known for his role as the dimwitted Troy Barnes on NBC’s Community and for his sketch and stand-up comedy— especially with a moniker lifted from an online Wu-Tang Clan name generator.

But somewhere around the release of his debut album Camp, it became clear that Gambino is a legitimate rapper and a multifaceted, emotionally raw human being. His newest release, Because the Internet, reveals that behind the laughs and punch lines — yes, they’re there — is a man just as lonely, confused and depressed as the rest of us.

Tracks such as “Worldstar” and “Sweatpants” are filled with the kind of arrogance and classic rap bravado one expects (“Hip deep in the Pepto/ I got five on her like Ben Folds/ I got more tail than that Petco/ You faker than some Sweet’N Low”) over hard-hitting trap beats.

Gambino also delivers his comedic, so-called “hashtag” raps, which invariably end in a so-corny-it’s-clever punch line and reference everything from A$AP Rocky to Star Wars to Disney movies — “Girl why is you lyin’, girl why you Mufasa.”

But it’s when he provides a peek into his emotional life and relationships that this album is at its best. Songs such as “III. Telegraph Ave. (‘Oakland’ by Lloyd)” and “I. pink toes” — featuring rumored girlfriend Jhene Aiko — are among the best-produced on the album, layering stories of love and doubt over lighter beats and harmonious, catchy hooks sung by Gambino and his guests.

Fun, poppy lead single “V. 3005” delves into Gambino’s concerns about how fame has affected his friendships — sentiments that are only amplified as the album unfolds, evolving into a conflicted and melancholy rant. A lost and existential Gambino is left questioning his life’s purpose and his relationships on looming experimental tracks.

Closing song “III. life: the biggest troll [andrew auernheimer]” is exceptionally gloomy, laying out Gambino’s fears and frustrations explicitly and ending with him repeating — almost pleading — “Please help me.”

But his vulnerability sometimes comes off drab, like the ramblings of a moody, pubescent teenage girl. The drawn-out, dreamlike “Flight of the Navigator” features Gambino lazily singing over a repetitive guitar cadence and trippy vocal samples. At almost six minutes, it runs the risk of sending listeners into a coma.

“Zealots of Stockholm [Free Information]” takes the same tone, opening with a similarly morose verse and instrumental section before taking an unprecedented twist after the verse is cut by an abrasive electronic scratch that lasts for nearly 15 seconds and streams into a grimy, bass-heavy beat — a mediocre transition that sounds like it was plucked straight out of Kanye West’s experimental Yeezus.

The album’s overarching themes are inconsistent and half-assed; the tracks are grouped into sections lacking any sort of cohesion. The Internet motif loosely extends to song titles such as “Worldstar,” “earth: the oldest computer (the last night)” and lines referencing old viral video phenomena and social media outlets.

Because the Internet casts Childish Gambino in a more serious light. His most intimate thoughts don’t always make for the best songs and it’s hard to decide whether to “turn up” with him or just give the poor guy a hug. But Gambino has shown a lot of lyrical growth and depth since his previous production. While this existential crisis may be just a phase, his rap career is here to stay.