Tyler, the Creator — Chromakopia: Album Review

Despite Tyler's unbreakable self-belief, sometimes even he needs his mother to tell him "you are the light. It's not on you, it's in you."

Score: 9/10

On the eighth album of his career, Tyler, the Creator may well put the mask on, but in doing so he reveals more about himself than ever before. Chromakopia serves as a bookmark for Tyler to celebrate his journey, but also tackle the insecurities of adulthood that weigh heavy on many of us.

My strength of feeling for Tyler, the Creator as an artist is no secret. I have been captivated by him from a young age, listening to all of his albums and basically watching the boy grow into the man we know today. He’s made it incredibly easy for us to follow that journey, because of how much his music has evolved.

Long gone are the days of horrorcore therapy sessions of an edgy teenager — like on Bastard or Goblin — but what we hear in the present was never an accident. You could hear this progression from Wolf onwards really, as Tyler became more melodic and experimental with his production techniques and vocal deliveries.

He is now a 33-year-old man with two Grammys and multiple platinum hits to his name. The fringe weirdo is now the fully fledged, universally recognised star — but with that comes added pressure that you wouldn’t notice if you just looked at Tyler’s album rollouts.

From Flower Boy to IGOR to Call Me If You Get Lost, the Californian is on a consecutive project run that would be the envy of 99% of the music industry, so when he returned to announce that his eighth album, Chromakopia, would be arriving on October 28, expectations were high.

In a way, that is what plenty of this album is about. The lead single, Noid, focuses on adjustments to fame in the digital age, as Tyler battles the flood of fans swarming him with mobile phones asking for pictures, reflecting on how differently society would look at this animalistic practice of treating celebrities like circus acts if it was a gun in their hand, and not a phone.

“Privacy? Yeah right, I got a better shot in the NBA
Ain't no respect for nothing, voice recording all discussions
Her, him, they, them, or anybody, I don't trust them at, at all.” — Noid

While some tracks feel like evolutions of other albums, for instance a track like Darling, I sounds like it could easily fit into the IGOR trackless in an alternate universe, the standout element of this album is Tyler’s leaps into the unknown.

The opener, St. Chroma, while reminiscent of IGOR’S THEME from 2019, is yet another inventive way to roll out the red carpet for the rest of the tracklist. The thumping military marches that form the instrumental in the first 90 seconds are met with whispered bars of pride and braggadocio, and once Tyler utters my favourite line on the whole album (quoted below), Daniel Caesar harmonises towards a crashing beat transition which juxtaposes the hushed tones of before.

“I ain't never had a doubt inside me
And if I ever told you that I did, I'm fuckin' lying” — St. Chroma

The crash of the drums halfway through St. Chroma lets you know you are in for an unpredictable listen. But as ever with such a student of the game as Tyler — someone who famously writes, produces and arranges every song by himself, and once told an interviewer he spends two hours each morning listening to music he’s never heard before — you felt it would be authentic to the core.

Tyler has a lot to say on here, and it sounds like a lot of soul searching has occurred as he moulded into becoming a man in his 30s. There’s the devastating goodbye letter of a late lover on Judge Judy, the sensitively executed back and forth between himself and a woman he got pregnant on Hey Jane (also the name of an abortion clinic), the mysterious exposing of people who live secret lives behind the scenes on Take Your Mask Off.

I don’t think he’s ever created a song as powerful as Like Him before, as he juggles the difficulty of growing up without a father, while also recognising he was still able to accomplish what he wanted. Twinned with unbelievably raw narration contributions by his mother, it paints a vivid picture of how Tyler’s family environment shaped not just him, but her too. Oh, and Baby Keem’s “huh” involvement at the three minute mark is honestly one of the highlights of the album.

“Mama, I'm chasing a ghost
I don't know who he is
Mama, I'm chasing a ghost
I don't know where he is
Mama, I'm chasing a ghost
Do I look like him?” — Like Him

That narration is a consistent theme of the album, as Tyler invites his mother on this journey with him, to show all that has been done, and the potential scars that might have been left behind. She is comforting and supportive in her words, reminding Tyler that, despite his anxieties around being watched, the light is “in you, not on you.”

For each heartfelt moment of tranquility there is also a release of energy; be it the ridiculously catchy Sticky — which saw GloRilla, Sexyy Red and Lil Wayne join Tyler on one of the most fun and absurd beats of 2024 — or Balloon with the breakout star Doechii.

Tracks like those two, as well as a few others on here, show how liberated and free Tyler is with not just his sexuality, which he has candidly revealed more on in recent albums, but also his approach to romance. On Darling, I, he says monogamy is “not for me” and acknowledges that “nobody can fulfil me like this music shit does” before settling for being “lonely with these Grammys” as he grows older.

I saw one person say this felt like Tyler’s equivalent of Mr Morale & The Big Steppers, the introspective and often challenging album from 2022 by fellow Californian artist Kendrick Lamar, and it’s hard to disagree with that in theory.

“The biggest out the city after Kenny, that's a fact now” — Rah Tah Tah

This album feels like a statement of growth on an artistry level and a personal one. Tyler is taking on big cultural subjects of sexuality, isolation, identity and the like, and he clearly made this album to have his listeners feel something, rather than move something to the beat.

That’s not to say he doesn’t manage the balance. One listen to Rah Tah Tah or Thought I Was Dead — two genuine hall of fame Tyler turn up songs — will showcase that for you, but it very much feels like an album designed to be listened to in full without interruptions.

In less words, he’s airing shit out that he needs off his chest.

Chromakopia is a map of the adult experience. It is self-confident but also reflective, it hops from moments of clarity to deep insecurities, and it leaps from vibing out without a care in the world to taking a step back and questioning everything you were ever told.

Tyler has always been one to wear his musical heart on his sleeve, and the irony of Chromakopia is that he had to put the mask on to reveal more about himself.