Over the course of his past four albums, rapper Tyler, the Creator has traded his edgy teenage Odd Future persona – and homophobic rhymes – for a more nuanced and expansive skillset, with frequent nods to a more fluid sexuality. Cue hits – and Grammys. At once hard-hitting and emotionally disarming, Chromakopia doubles down on three major themes: maturing (or not), the act of mask-wearing, and Tyler’s angsty relationship with fame. The opening triptych packs a punch, making the bold claim, on Rah Tah Tah, that Tyler is “the biggest out the city after Kenny” (Kendrick Lamar). The superlative Noid nods towards a Black Sabbath riff while detailing Tyler’s fear of fan behaviour.
Turning inwards, a deceptively lovey-dovey Darling, I makes plain that Tyler is not built for commitment, but manages to spin immaturity with convincing vulnerability. Would not having children be a blessing – or a missed opportunity to grow (Tomorrow)? On Hey Jane, Tyler talks through a pregnancy with emotionally intelligent ambivalence, recalling OutKast’s Ms Jackson. Like Him airs conflicted feelings about his estranged father to a piano-led cut featuring one of many cameos by Tyler’s mother, Bonita Smith, who also appeared on his 2021 LP, Call Me If You Get Lost. It all makes for an album that balances candour with artfulness and some unequivocally banging tunes.
