Album Review: Tyler, the Creator Unmasks His Vulnerabilities in ‘CHROMAKOPIA’

Despite its clashing sound, Tyler, the Creator's eighth studio album serves as a sincere reflection on the advice of his biggest inspiration: his mother.

Written by Valeria Mota

Photo courtesy of Tyler, the Creator

Tyler, the Creator has never shied away from reinvention, crafting diverse sonic atmospheres with unique combinations of samples, instrumentals, and vocals on each project. While his creative strategies differ, Tyler’s release schedule has remained steady since 2011’s Goblin with biannual album releases. Fans naturally expected this pattern to continue, but instead, the California native reinvented his methods once again by announcing his eighth studio album, CHROMAKOPIA, and surprised listeners with an unexpected Monday morning release to avoid the usual weekend’s “passive listening.”

The day before the album released, Tyler hosted a last-minute listening party at Los Angeles’ Intuit Dome, where he admitted that CHROMAKOPIA’s inspiration came from conversations with his mother, Bonita Smith. “The album kinda just turned into me taking a bunch of shit my mom told me as a kid,” he confessed. “Now that I’m 33, all that stuff is like, ‘Oh, that’s what the fuck she was talking about.’” Through the lens of his mother’s advice, Tyler’s CHROMAKOPIA delves into central themes of authenticity and emotional vulnerability.

CHROMAKOPIA opens with “St. Chroma,” which begins with a voice memo from Smith, who urges Tyler, “Don't you ever… dim your light for nobody.” A hypnotic marching beat follows as Tyler delivers hushed rap verses on his upbringing. The confident chant that Tyler’s “gon' make it out,” paired with Daniel Caesar’s vocals, build suspense towards a climactic beat drop, complete with a cacophony of synthesizers and sirens. The rapper continues to ponder on his authenticity and questions if he should “keep the light on or… gracefully bow out,” only for Smith to reaffirm him to never dim “[his] light for none of these motherfuckers.”

The album’s next track, “Rah Tah Tah,” jarringly contrasts with the inspirational “St. Chroma.” With aggressive rapping and brash production, the second track sees Tyler masterfully execute braggadocio rap,  which contrasts his previous emotional vulnerability on “St. Chroma;” “Rah Tah Tah”’s brazen attitude may very well be a mask for Tyler’s self-doubts, similar to the full-face mask the rapper wears on the album’s cover.

Image courtesy of Columbia

The project’s third track and first commercial single, “Noid,” has a sinister sound that highlights Tyler’s feelings of paranoia and distrust, while a voice memo from Smith encourages her son to “keep [his] business to [himself].” The former Odd Future member continues rapping about intrusions into his personal life over harmonious backing vocals and a building percussion that quickens the song’s tempo. The sonic texture of “Noid” explains Tyler’s candid concerns on privacy, trust, and integrity in his latest project.

The album shifts to upbeat percussion and high-pitched synths on the following track, “Darling, I,” allowing Tyler to authentically reflect on romance and his internal conflicts with commitment. While the track is well-constructed, it does lack the ambitious production of the previous tracks on the record. Despite the sonic constraints, the melodious instrumentals let the singer openly rap about his contradictory romantic tendencies: “I love this girl, though, I hit the gold mine / I'm thinkin' new crib, I'm thinkin' two kids / Until I get infatuated with a new bitch.” The track ends with a reminder from Smith to “be honest,” a sentiment Tyler embodies by rapping about his perspective on love over a continuous, bubbly beat.

What follows the charming “Darling, I” is one of the most revealing tracks on the album, “Hey Jane,” a reference to the abortion healthcare company of the same name. With subdued production, “Hey Jane” tells the story of Tyler and his partner, Jane, who is pregnant with Tyler’s unplanned child. The seamless thematic transition from “Darling, I” to “Hey Jane” shows that the artist’s laid-back approach to commitment results in serious consequences. Through an epistolary format, Tyler expresses his mixed support of Jane’s mental and physical changes while grappling with the shock of potentially becoming a father. Tyler then raps from the perspective of Jane, who assures the artist that she “can do this alone” and admits she would rather have “peace of mind” than co-parent. 

After considering the possibility of becoming a father on “Hey Jane,” the award-winning artist grapples with his identity on the following song, “I Killed You.” Tyler directly addresses his hair as he threatens to “kill it” in order to fit into a society that rejects Black features, though the rapper acknowledges that by tampering with his hair, he is essentially killing off his family line of “aunties, grandmas, sisters, mamas.” Entrancing drums and eerie synths on this track contrast sharply with the somber tone of “Hey Jane,” but the eventual beat switch, accompanied by a soft flute and Childish Gambino’s backing vocals, adds texture to the track and leads Tyler to embrace his heritage as his “crown.”

While each song on CHROMAKOPIA features exceptional production, the album’s constant switches between quick percussion to mellow harmonies make the tracklist order feel jarring. This tonal shift is the most painfully obvious between the tracks “Judge Judy” and “Sticky.” After the soft and lush “Judge Judy” comes a harsh transition into one of the more upbeat tracks on the record, “Sticky.” Tyler uses high-pitched vocals on the track’s opening verse to affirm he is “that n— and that bitch.” With thumping percussion, the small guest features from GloRilla, Sexyy Redd, and Lil Wayne and audacious closing trumpets contend the song’s boldness.

After the intensity of “Sticky,” CHROMAKOPIA once again explores authenticity on the warm “Take Your Mask Off.” Featuring Daniel Caesar, the rapper contemplates different circumstances where people hide their true selves, like a young gang member, a closeted preacher, and a mother longing for another life. As he hopes these people “take [their] mask off,” the rapper unveils his insecurities even further as he analyzes his thoughts on settling down in “Tomorrow,” his first standalone 10th track. With a toned-down guitar and tender falsetto, the successful rapper contemplates aging as he compares himself to his married peers: “They sharin' pictures of these moments… / And all I got is photos of my 'Rari and some silly suits.”

Once again, though, these two slower tracks differ dramatically with the following song, “Thought I Was Dead.” Assisted by militaristic chants, bold trombones, and a ScHoolboy Q feature, Tyler expertly calls out culture vultures and obsessive fans in the hip-hop sphere: “Pull up old tweets, pull up old t-shirts… I'll moonwalk over that bitch.” Yet, as the track closes, the multi-hyphenate does question “Why [he is] filled with this hate,” showing that he can be uninterruptedly vulnerable, even in his haughtiest tracks.

Afterward, Tyler continues this introspection with “Like Him,” one of his most emotionally vulnerable songs to date. The track opens with a grave piano instrumental, with the artist  chasing an image of his father as the song crescendos: “How could [he] ever miss somethin' (Go) / That [he] never had?” The track closes with Smith confessing that it is her fault for his father’s absence, echoing Jane’s desires to parent alone in “Hey Jane” and revealing Tyler’s deep emotional uncertainties. While the artist has alluded to his father in previous songs  like “Yonkers” off Goblin, “Like Him” serves as his rawest exploration of the topic.

Despite this heavy track, the last two songs on the album, “Balloon” and “I Hope You Find Your Way Home,” end CHROMAKOPIA on a more positive note. “Balloon” sees Tyler reasserting his confidence with help from a Doechii feature and thumping bass. While the swamp princess’s verse does have some brazen lyrics — specifically “I air this bitch out like a queef” — her audacious lyrical presence elevates Tyler’s confident energy on the track. The album’s introspective closing track, “I Hope You Find Your Way Home,” reminds listeners to “keep shinin’,” like Smith encouraged her son to do on “St. Chroma.” Tyler ends the album by expressing hope that he will “find [his] way home” to his true self.

CHROMAKOPIA exhibits Tyler’s well-honed abilities as a producer and songwriter. Each track on the album is unique in thematic approach and sound, even if some songs are more memorable than others. Ambitious production in tracks like “St. Chroma” and “Thought I Was Dead” overshadow the more laid-back musical techniques of “Darling, I” and “Judge Judy,” making for an abrasive listening experience. Yet, the album’s gentler moments emphasize some of the California rapper’s best lyricism to date, and tracks like “Hey Jane,” “Tomorrow,” and “Like Him” display vulnerabilities that Tyler has never fully explored on other projects.

Again, Tyler is not afraid of constantly reinventing his craft, and CHROMAKOPIA proves no different. From the album’s rollout to its themes, the project blends ambitious production and raw lyrics buoyed by his own mother’s advice. Now, Tyler is more comfortable in taking off his tough mask and letting his light shine on this musical and emotional journey.

Rating: 8/10
Glowing Tracks: “St. Chroma,” “Noid,” “Hey Jane,” “Thought I Was Dead,” “Like Him”