Genre: Psychedelic Hip Hop // Millennial Villain-Era Rap
After his vagabond sabbatical on the pastel CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST narrated by the deafening DJ Drama, the LA-native non-conformist scours for a home in the illustrious sepia land of CHROMAKOPIA — all-the-while trying to investigate where he comes from along the way with guidance from his mother Bonita Smith.
Mr. Morale & The Big Steppers earmarked the start of this wave of blog rappers transitioning into the “unc” stages of their careers. From Childish Gambino’s farewell album Bando Stone and the New World to the showdown for the soul of hip hop between the Blog Rap Big Three, the trend has clearly escalated this year. Now with the foray into the freakish world of CHROMAKOPIA, Tyler, the Creator once again does things his own way.
At first, the stark initial differences led me to feel very critical of the Mr. Morale comparisons. Morale sees Kendrick doing spiritual preparation to save his family from a generational curse and become a better father – CHROMAKOPIA sees Tyler take on this paradoxically atheistic St. Chroma character to explain why he likely will never be a father, and maintains this unyielding immaturity where he refuses to acknowledge some mistakes in his youth. However, after spending more time with the album, I see the main crux of this comparison comes from the two projects’ unrelenting honesty and ethos of unmasking.
Tyler recreates CHERRY BOMB without the brain-rot of tracks like Cara Delevingne-ode “BLOW MY LOAD,” “KEEP DA OA’S,” or the title track. Both albums feature this almost embarrassing level of honesty, but whereas CHERRY BOMB existed in this green puberty stage in Tyler’s career, here he rounds out his sound. The variegated funk and R&B elements from old standouts like “FIND YOUR WINGS” and “OKAGA, CA” evolve into luminescent arpeggiated sound structures on the anti-monogamy diss track “Darling, I” and the Steve Lacy-strummed “Judge Judy.”
Introductory track “St. Chroma” gives a glimpse into the loading process for the album’s shipment. We hear the unquantized march of the mix’s features before the unforeseen drop’s kaleidoscopic explosion in the second half of the track. Daniel Caesar’s crooning takes the opener to the next level, and his contributions throughout elevate the project — especially on other standout “Take Your Mask Off” — a Stevie Wonder-level song with miraculous lessons weaved in between tingly choruses. Flowing into “Rah Tah Tah”, Tyler only continues to make this music thing look easy with bumptious bars sandwiched between an oddly vulnerable chorus in a song that feels like doing donuts in a privacy-tinted muscle car.
Swapping the brash, scribbled riffs for an eclectic Zambian rock sample, “Noid” recalls the rock influences on Cherry Bomb’s “DEATHCAMP”. In theory, a wonder like “Noid” should be my favorite with its two-part structure, god-tier sampling, and Black Sabbath rhythms, but I personally think Tyler could’ve offered a better rapping performance on this track. The track is still objectively good, but I was surprised to prefer the slower MPB-spiced “Judge Judy”. Regardless, Tyler provides a diversity in offering to satiate fans of highbrow technique on “Noid” and those looking for savory melodies on “Darling, I”.
Almost as reparations for the intrusive thought-style pornographic bars about necrophilia and stalking in the first chunk of his career, he enthusiastically includes feminist tracks on here about sex positivity and body autonomy with “Judge Judy” and “Hey Jane.” I appreciate the latter track especially for serving as the album’s thematic hinge, explaining a chunk of the album in a way that wasn’t as long-winded and blunt as 2021’s “Wilshire”. Follow-up track “I Killed You” could very well continue this idea of abortion and killing the chances of a family alongside its very mature conversation regarding professionalism, navigating eurocentric beauty standards, and natural Black hair. By far the most underrated track on the album, the last-minute addition “Balloon” features the multi-faceted and talented Queen of the Swamp Doechii. The buoyant, sex-positive number contrasts with the weird narrative that she’s a “breath of fresh air” relative to so-called ‘sex worker rap’.
Tyler heralds his campaign for Freak of the Year with the easter egg-ridden posse cut “Sticky,” a track packed with references to the controversial CHERRY BOMB. On first listen, this song’s discordant whistling rings as a one-off joke that you think will lose its novelty quickly — some might argue a brownnose peace offering between the artsy black nerds and the ratchet folk. However, at the time of writing this, I’m on my twentieth listen, and the song still hasn’t lost its luster. Its drums call on Pharrel Williams’ stylings more than ever before, having identical impromptu schoolhouse percussive energy to Clipse’s “Grindin” but with more voluminous dimension. From the ATL cheerleaders in the background to the royal HBCU-esque brass, “Sticky” sounds like making a ruckus on the bumpy bus ride back from a core-memoried field trip with crossovers from friend groups you would never picture in the same scene. The whole time, you know the teacher is about to yell at you, but that’s part of the fun.
The weeping guitar rap-ballad “Tomorrow” and rococo “Like Him” highlight how far Tyler’s raw vocals have come. Part of IGOR’s charm was its use of vocal distortion in the vein Ye’s 808s and Heartbreaks, but CHROMAKOPIA distinguishes itself by Okonma’s evident vocal training. Across the album, I sometimes found it difficult to parse Tyler from the features because of his voice’s newfound versatility. It makes for real pump-fakes moments and scenes where the rug really gets pulled from underneath you; ie, when ScHoolboy Q kicks in on “Thought I Was Dead.”
“Thought I Was Dead”’s cartoonish beat sounds swiped from ScHoolboy Q’s early 2024 release BLUE LIPS, so its feature tessellates seamlessly. Lead single “Noid” jumpstarted the rollout with military/political imagery and made it seem like the album would delve more into his father’s Nigerian ancestry, but this hater anthem with Santigold is the closest the album comes to rekindling that. The boisterous track’s deflection of detractors and attempts at ‘cancellation’ feels like St. Chroma’s equivalent to Che Guevara comically dodging endless assassination attempts. This track would fit well on any workout playlist, right alongside “Rah Tah Tah”.
If the run from Flower Boy to Call Me If You Get Lost was the stretch from the Beatles’ Revolver to Abbey Road, this is Tyler Okonma’s equivalent to Let It Be. That chapter of his career will always be his peak, but that shouldn’t subtract from the apparent quality of this later work. Let It Be’s bittersweet tension also surfaces here between Tyler and his mother. Despite the genre I made up for this album, there are rarely any villains in real life. As one grows up, they get introduced to family secrets and added details that recontextualize their entire upbringing (and his 2013 song “Answer”). While teleologically, we may vilify people for how they mislead or impact us, we are growing up concurrently with those around us — especially our parents. Tyler’s mother’s choice to purposefully keep his father out his life shaped him into who he is — from his unorthodox artistry to his commitment/trust issues — for better and for worse. It’s not our place to judge. It might not even be Tyler’s. It’s up to him to find out where he goes from here.
With CHROMAKOPIA, Tyler makes his music his 9-5. He’s already proven himself a rapper/artist of the highest caliber — now he can just make a solid album sharing where he’s at in life that asks us not to ask too many follow up questions. From the choice to drop on a Monday (and not in proximity to a Fast & Furious film) to the deliberate act of not putting the two-parter at track ten, he also characterizes himself as a contrarian willing to break any tradition. At the end of the day, he’s still a manchild quicker to commit to a car than to a partner — but also an adult, finally able to exercise the prudence to heed the lessons of his mom.
Tyler, the Creator’s unrelenting honesty makes him stand out in an age of refined plastic stars and virtue signalers. Once again, in this once in a lifetime year for mainstream music, artists are overwhelming audiences with authenticity, and some fans aren’t ready for it. However, Gap Tooth T will still be here when they come back around.
Personal Favorite: Judge Judy
Best Tracks: St. Chroma (feat Daniel Caesar), Take Off Your Mask (feat. Daniel Caesar & LaToiya Williams), Like Him (feat. Lola Young), Sticky (feat. Glorilla, Sexyy Red, & Lil Wayne)
Guaranteed Hit for the Locals: Darling, I (feat. Teezo Touchdown)
Most Underrated: Balloons (feat. Doechii), Tomorrow, Hey Jane
Rating: 87/100
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