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“Do I keep the light on or do I gracefully bow?” — thus ends the first track of Tyler Okonma’s, better known by his stage name Tyler, the Creator, seventh studio album “Chromakopia.” Revolving around his career, love and identity, “Chromakopia” is among Tyler, the Creator’s most reflective musical efforts.
Heartfelt, daring, vulgar and raunchy, the album’s abundance of creative decisions shape an impressive work of art. But with so many artistic decisions, a few of them don’t quite pack the intended punch.
Unlike the stylistic jump from 2017’s “Flower Boy” to 2019’s “Igor,” “Chromakopia” is relatively similar in production to 2021’s “Call Me If You Get Lost.” In my mind, since Tyler, the Creator was willing to go deeper, he did not need to play around with alter egos or longer narratives.
Instead, Tyler, the Creator kept his approach as simple as an artist dynamic like him could.
“Chromakopia” is a quintessential modern Tyler, the Creator experience — a great album in a long line of great albums.
“The biggest out the city after Kenny”
Tyler, the Creator’s braggadocious and vulgar side bursts out occasionally throughout the album.
“Rah Tah Tah” sports one of the faster and more entertaining beats of the album. Flaunting his success cheekily and raunchily, this track provides an amped-up beat to bounce to.
At the end of the track, Tyler, the Creator proclaims himself “the biggest out the city Kenny,” referring to Kendrick Lamar. Though Tyler, the Creator and Lamar differ greatly in subject matter, both flaunt a certain prowess lacked by others in the modern hip-hop game.
Such is the focus of my favorite rap performances of the album in “Thought I Was Dead.” The album’s second single incorporates features from both ScHoolboy Q and Santigold, with the former calling out the inauthentic, weird behavior of other rappers with fun, fast-paced flows.
Tyler, the Creator’s second verse on the song points inward, though, referring to how he’s “changed like the fit got dirty.” However, despite that change, he still promises to continue to play only by his own rules. The message is clear: He is not going to conform, and he is calling the bluff of those who would make him try.
These sorts of claims of authenticity only work, I feel, because of the depths the rest of the album is willing to go.
The dark side of his experience of fame is captured in the album’s first single, “Noid.” Within the album’s third track, Tyler, the Creator recounts feelings of intense paranoia resulting from being in the public eye. Uncomfortable with how much people want to know about his life, he instead tells them brazenly to read a book about him.
“At least I felt something if I ain’t find the one”
“Darling, I” sees Tyler, the Creator analyze his preferences for partners. He presents as torn between wanting a consistent family in the future and his capacity for loving and being infatuated with different people.
Family plays a key role in “Chromakopia.” The main strand throughout the songs are pieces of advice and comments presumably given by Tyler, the Creator’s mother. These range from earnest to heartbreaking. In “Tomorrow,” his mother asks for grandchildren — a desire analyzed daringly in the song “Hey Jane.”
“Hey Jane” sees Tyler, the Creator rap from two points of view: T and Jane. Unexpectedly, Jane is pregnant, and both are struggling with how they move forward. Though they haven’t made a decision of whether to keep the child or not, at the end, their respect for each other is clearer than anything.
“Judge Judy” seems to steer away from Tyler, the Creator’s more vulnerable side for a moment, instead describing a casual hook-up. But the last verse, written in the perspective of Judy after her death, remarks on how her knowledge of her upcoming death made her rethink her life and thanks Tyler for not judging her.
Overall, Tyler, the Creator seems bent on discovering what is the best life for him to live — and his conclusion seems to be an honest one.
That, among many other reasons, is what makes “Take Your Mask Off” the core of “Chromakopia.” Firstly speaking toward others, including a preacher and a housewife, for not living their true selves, Tyler, the Creator then tells himself to be authentic — to be real about the effects of his aging, ego, business ventures and general character flaws.
In the music videos and album cover, Tyler, the Creator sports what looks to be something of a military uniform and a tight-fitting mask. But a mask seems to be only a vessel in which he can express himself more authentically — both to others, and most importantly, to himself.
“Take your mask off and tell ‘em the truth”
The truth of “Chromakopia” is best summarized in the heartbreaking “Like Him.” Within it, Tyler, the Creator addresses his mother, though focuses on the psychological impact of both resembling and lacking his father.
“Chromakopia” is at its best when it goes deep — not because the songs are more exciting, but because he appropriately conveys the multilayered experience of authenticity.
Perhaps you may not like the sound. Perhaps the vulgarity and subject matter and Tyler, the Creator’s overall boisterous attitude is off-putting. But art is at its best when the artist puts themself on the line — and Tyler, the Creator certainly deserves numerous accolades for going so brazen, even if he did not reinvent the wheel with style.
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Contact Eliot Cox via email: eliot.cox@pepperdine.edu
