Tyler, The Creator’s ‘CHROMOKOPIA’ is one of his strongest works to date

Throughout his career, there has always been the question of whether or not Tyler, The Creator is being serious. His early music is so smothered in irony and personas that the real Tyler, whoever that may be, felt impossible to reach.  Even attempts at earnestness, such as the song ‘Answer’, which serves as a direct address to his absent father, feel like exaggerated displays of emotion to minimise the likelihood of anyone scratching slightly below the surface. Whilst these masks of irony slowly fell away throughout his albums Flower Boy, Igor, and Call Me If You Get Lost, it is only with CHROMOKOPIA that this collapse of irony is solidified. A genuine, deeply personal version of Tyler is laid bare.

Whilst most easily comparable to Igor regarding the similar production, Igor felt closely focused on the spiral of a doomed relationship, whilst CHROMOKOPIA is far more frenetic in its ideas, rapidly jumping from one concept to another with no real through line.

Not every song has that gradual unravelling though, some feel as though they are a scream into the void, an attempt to be heard by someone

‘Judge Judy,’ a track that begins as a laid-back exploration of a casual relationship Tyler is having with a girl, appropriately called Judy, quickly morphs into an exploration of his own sexuality. Additionally, he questions whether or not he feels able to be vulnerable in these situations leading, ultimately, to the breakdown of the relationship. After this story ends the song lingers for slightly too long, with each piece, from the Childish Gambino backing vocals to the percussion, slowly falling away in resignation, aware that this is a relationship that is unable to be saved and wallowing in that sensation.

Not every song has that gradual unravelling though, some feel as though they are a scream into the void, an attempt to be heard by someone. A clear example of this is the lead single ‘Noid’ which works as an exploration of what it means to be a figure in the public eye, trying desperately to understand the world around you and yourself as almost everyone is only able to relate to you as a public figure and not as a person. It’s a feeling that sparks immense dread, a constant feeling that “someone’s keeping watch, I feel them on my shoulder” when interacting with anyone aware of Tyler, the Creator — a dread that is made overtly clear through the music video which shows Ayo Edebiri as a crazed fan alternating from asking for a picture to shoving a gun in Tyler’s face.

Yet not every song wallows in dour sentiments as Tyler is able to give each sensation space to breathe and develop. ‘Darling, I’ feels like a lost Flower Boy B-side with its breezy upbeat synths, layers of chirping lyrics and light percussion, but it doesn’t feel out of place.

There’s an ease of movement between different genres throughout the album as different pieces are sampled and drawn upon

There’s an ease of movement between genres throughout the album as different pieces are sampled and drawn upon. Even if the changes in production feel abrupt, they are not unnatural, simply transitions which are aided by the presence of Tyler’s mother, who almost serves as a featured artist throughout the album, bookending several songs.  Although her appearances don’t always seem necessary, they serve as an interesting inflection point for Tyler as he begins to discuss his father and fatherhood as a concrete notion rather than a distant source of anger. Though these themes appear on ‘Hey Jane’, a track which discusses the fallout of an unexpected pregnancy over a minimalist production, it is on ‘Like Him’ that these ideas really come to the forefront. Beginning with remarks that “I make expressions like him”, he becomes increasingly fixated on trying to find similarities between the two of them. But how can you compare yourself to a father that you have never met? Tyler’s father is “a ghost” that he wants to understand but, because of his mother leaving him before Tyler was born, he will never be able to genuinely connect with. The song has no real conclusion, it simply hangs in the silence after Tyler’s mothers short message, unresolved.

Though many fans may have gone into CHROMOKOPIA with very specific expectations, notably an appearance from Tyler, The Creator’s close friend and collaborator Frank Ocean, who hasn’t released any solo music since 2017 or been a featured artist since 2018, the album seems entirely uninterested in appealing to any fan whims and succeeds as a result. As a project it is a sprawling, deeply personal depiction of Tyler’s inner thoughts that flitters between different genres with ease, able to balance abrasiveness and bravado on tracks like ‘Rah Tah Tah’ and ‘Thought I was Dead’ with earnest contemplation on songs like ‘Tomorrow’. Though the album cover and accompanying promotional material may give the impression of a murky, downbeat project, CHROMOKOPIA serves as an encompassing exploration of Tyler the person with some incredible production that is able to enhance one of Tyler, the Creator’s strongest albums to date.

Recommended listening: ‘Hey Jane’, ‘Sticky’

★★★★