Tyler, The Creator – ‘Chromakopia’ review: a landscape of chaos that reflects his own psychological conflict

30 October, 2024

Tyler, The Creator

The trail of crumbs dropped before the release of Tyler, The Creator‘s new album ‘Chromakopia’ indicated a clear direction, centred around a new alter-ego. The record’s title and the videos for ‘St. Chroma’ and ‘Noid’ — which saw the LA rapper inject colour into bleary, sepia-toned worlds — suggested he’d drawn inspiration from the book The Phantom Tollbooth, in which protagonist Chroma The Great colours a black-and-white world by conducting a magical orchestra.

In reality, ‘Chromakopia’ never fully realises this concept. It’s probably a calculated misdirection in an album that feels deliberately messy. The 33-year-old rapper/producer – real name Tyler Okonma – constantly twists down different sonic avenues and matches these changes with lurches in subject matter. After an opening two-track onslaught of synth noise and industrial percussion, he drops the Black Sabbath-esque rap-rock concoction ‘Noid’ before placing sweet, mellow hip-hop centre stage.

‘Hey Jane’ presents an intelligent two-sided conversation about an unexpected pregnancy, and you wonder if follow-up track ‘I Killed You’, might be a provocative ‘Goblin’-esque response to this dilemma, but it’s another misdirection. Okonma’s empathetic gaze demonstrates a continuing maturation, although he soon insists that “raising a child is not on my wish list“, capturing broader album-wide anxieties about ageing, settling down, and becoming a father.

Okonma’s honesty is refreshing, and his lyrical dexterity gives these reflections humour and humanity; on the smooth R&B-flecked groove ‘Darling, I’ he raps: “When that grey hair finally come / At least I felt something if I ain’t found the one… I’ll be lonely with these Grammys when it’s all said and done“. On ‘Noid’, he incisively documents this mental turmoil (exacerbated by intense fan scrutiny), spitting “Triple checking if I lost the door / I know every creak that’s in the floor / Motherfucker I’m paranoid“.

But the album’s overarching message, that you shouldn’t trust people and that monogamy is a hoax, feels lazy. These musings are punctuated by voice recordings of Okonma’s mother dropping an avalanche of advice: “Don’t trust these people out here”, “Always wear a condom”, and “Don’t ever tell no bitch you love her” (which explains some of her son’s hang-ups).

It feels like through these barrages of information and the leaps between tumultuous synths and soulful keys, booming claps and choral motifs, Tyler, The Creator, is building a landscape of chaos that reflects his own psychological conflict. And in that sense, ‘Chromakopia’ succeeds on its own terms. Within the chaos, there’s beauty — the sensitivity of ‘Hey Jane’, the infectious hip-hop bite of ‘Thought I Was Dead’, the rising cacophonies of brass and percussion on ‘I Killed You’. But perhaps a less frantic approach would’ve benefited the listen overall.