“That version of T that you knew was a memory,” Tyler, The Creator raps midway through his eighth studio album, “CHROMAKOPIA.” He follows that verse up with, “Tell that new version of me that I’m comin’, yeah,” on the same song, “Tomorrow.”
As a music critic, anytime an artist delves into the many versions of themselves or their past personas, you stand at attention. This scenario was tricky though… I know next to nothing about Tyler, The Creator and the multitude of versions of him that span back all the way to when I was seeing him make 6-second videos on Vine in elementary school.
Despite knowing very little about this incredibly seasoned rapper and entertainer, I knew reviewing his recent album “CHROMAKOPIA” was more than necessary. I was able to uncover more about these “versions of T” that Tyler raps about thanks to the help of some friends that gave me all his essential songs dating back to his 2011 album, “Goblin.”
You get something new on each record Tyler produces, with lyrics ranging from unapologetic, arrogant verses about his lifestyle to the significant amount of distaste he has for his no-show father. The 14-song project that plays for just under an hour is no exception.
With his mother and other female voices narrating throughout with solid features from GloRilla, ScHoolboy Q and Lil Wayne, “CHROMAKOPIA” is a loopy, twisty roller coaster taking us through all the stuff Tyler has in issue with and all that is crumbling around him.
“Noid” reveals Tyler’s paranoia regarding the public and his lack of privacy. “Hey Jane” tells the story of a pregnancy scare and depicts a Tyler that so badly wants to be optimistic but has absolutely no business raising a child. “Take Your Mask Off” disses everyone from the kids who grew up with an easy life but want to be ghetto, to Tyler for not being his authentic self.
For someone who is still learning about Tyler and his journey, it can feel like you’re playing catch up the entire album, but with enough listens you start to understand what really keeps the rapper up at night.
Even at 33-years-old Tyler proves he can still have fun, and he flawlessly uses his features to show this side of him that hasn’t matured yet. “Sticky” sounds like he asked a bunch of middle schoolers who skipped class to bang on a lunch table so GloRilla and Sexyy Red had something simple to rap over. It transitions into a super fun marching band sound for Lil Wayne and Tyler to finish the song off, and just a few tracks later on “Thought I Was Dead” ScHoolboy Q raps like his livelihood rests on this song.
This tandem of head boppers isn’t enough to distract us from the fact that there’s some crisis Tyler is going through. His decade long bitterness toward his father is still alive and well, but lyrics like “Boy, you selfish as f***, that’s really why you scared of bein’ a parent,” reveal there’s this impending fear that Tyler is becoming the one thing he swore to destroy.
On “Like Him” Tyler wrestles with the fact that his mother compares his mannerisms and appearance to his absent father. “How could I ever miss something / That I never had?” Tyler sings as he tries to convince himself to suppress the curiosity that comes with not knowing your father.
As a first time listener of Tyler I almost feel like I’m intruding. The lyrics are raw and personal, sort of feeling like a slap in the face after bopping my head to ScHoolboy Q literally a song earlier. His music and the feelings it evokes are an acquired taste, but one I finally warmed up to after embracing all the quirks and surprises he experiments with in his art.
“CHROMAKOPIA” is a subtle cry for help, overpowered by a very loud acknowledgement that Tyler knows he is 33 but, “All [he’s] got is photos of [his] ‘Rari and some silly suits.” It seems like for the first time in his career Tyler is questioning if despite all the glitter and glam his life has brought him, he is the one that is actually behind in life?
No kids, no wife and he’s awfully similar to a man he’s spent a decade giving the middle finger to. Listening to “CHROMAKOPIA” as a non-Tyler, The Creator fan is like solving a Rubik’s cube blindfolded. But I think I solved at least one of the sides.
His mother starts the album with “You are the light / It’s not on you, it’s in you,” and she finishes the project with “I’m proud of you, bro / Like, you just never cease to amaze me, like, you just— There’s no words right now how I feel / Do your thing, just keep, keep shining.”
It’s almost like he now feels like he shared too much, and the interludes serve as a nudge from Tyler to just ignore all that sappy stuff and remember he’s the one with two Grammy Awards. No kids, no wife and no dad but forget everything he rapped about — he’ll be fine.
Steve Anderson 
Grace Chaves