The anticipation I felt this past Sunday evening was nothing short of a kid’s excitement on Christmas Eve. I had my 6 a.m. alarm set, I was adorned in my favorite Tyler, The Creator merch and thoughts of potential features made it difficult to fall asleep. CHROMAKOPIA has consumed me since the sudden release of “St. Chroma.” I immediately fell in love with the song and concept — the military style visuals were haunting and I obsessed over determining if Frank Ocean was really on the song (I’m convinced he is). That being said, it’s Tyler’s creativity that always dominates his projects,so my excitement was sufficiently peaked. And however brutal that alarm was, it was worth it.
The album’s electrifying opener, “St. Chroma,” is one of my favorite songs on the album. The chaotic whisper-vocals and marching is contrasted with Daniel Caesar’s harmonic vocals. The audience is also introduced to the character Saint Chroma, who appears to be Tyler, The Creator’s newest alter ego. Saint Chroma is taken from “Chroma the Great” of The Phantom Tollbooth, who colors the sunrise and sunset. It is clear after listening to the album that this character is a renewal of his artistic freedom, which he uses to shed his stoic mask.
“Rah Tah Tah” is next, and its abrasive production and intense flow keep the energy high. Without the rest of the album as context, the lyrics seem superficial and cocky, but that’s exactly the point. This track is his bravado — the front he puts up to hide the emotions beneath the mask. The next song, “Noid,” tears down the facade. “Noid” was another single released before the album. I’m a sucker for synth, so for sonic reasons alone it’s become a top track of mine. Lyrically, it’s vulnerable, frantic and honest, revealing Saint Chroma’s debilitating paranoia while setting the stage for the coming emotional journey.
The record continues with “Darling, I.” While it doesn’t yet slow the album down, Tyler’s candor prevails on this track. Featuring Teezo Touchdown’s smooth vocals, the song reveals his struggles with monogamy, commitment and the awareness that, to live a stable life, he’ll have to resolve these issues. He’s refreshingly candid, offering lyrics like “Hidin’ things, feelin’ shame inside of me / ‘Cause honestly, T is not perfect” that begin to disassemble the mask he’s so carefully constructed for himself — a task continued in the song that follows. “Hey Jane” details an unexpected pregnancy told from the perspective of both the mother and the father. Although this song’s heavy subject and literal lyrics might not be ideal for casual listening, Tyler, The Creator’s ability to turn struggle into art is undeniable.
“I Killed You” picks up the album. With an enticing drumbeat and Childish Gambino’s backing vocals, the song is a fun listen. Tyler continues to tap into his self-awareness by acknowledging the parts of himself that he’s “killed” or eliminated, confronting issues like toxic relationships or personal growth. These themes are further explored in “Judge Judy,” where Saint Chroma, or Tyler, The Creator, is learning to embrace his partner, Judy, and her lifestyle. The chorus and title are a play on the reality TV show Judge Judy, as Tyler repeats slightly altered versions of the refrain “So I won’t judge Judy / No, I won’t judge Judy.”
At this point in the listening process, Tyler has lulled his fans into a false sense of familiarity with four slow-ish songs in a row without overt features. Track eight is titled “Sticky,” and it is without a doubt the exact opposite of everything that came before; it uses a loud, marching-band beat to support the hard-hitting verses of GloRilla, Sexyy Red, Lil Wayne and Tyler himself. It’s an exciting listen and exactly what listeners need as they surpass the album’s halfway mark.
“Take Your Mask Off” resumes the melodic, introspective wave the album rides. The lyrics detail the stories of a few different individuals — such as a dissatisfied housewife or an internally homophobic gay man — and encourage them to shed their masks like he has. Its successor, “Tomorrow,” outlines the pressure to conform to culturally imposed timelines of parenthood. When it comes to these contemplative works, I can’t help but think of Kendrick Lamar. I’d like to think Tyler’s been studying the best (and in that case, where’s the collaboration?).
Speaking of the G.O.A.T., Tyler uses his next song “Thought I Was Dead” to address a growing problem within hip-hop: culture-vultures, or rappers who exploit hip-hop culture. I want to make it clear that Kendrick Lamar is not a perpetrator of this crime, but he did have a very public battle with Drake, who has repeatedly been on the receiving end of these accusations.
“Like Him,” the album’s next track, isn’t my favorite melodically. It’s slow in a part of the album I feel needs something energetic, but nevertheless the narrative of Tyler, The Creator reconciling with the reality of growing up fatherless is moving. Doechii is featured on the succeeding “Balloon,” an interesting mix of synthesizer, choral harmonies and fun rap verses that I think ultimately works. The simplistic lyrics do feel strangely placed at this point in the record, but it’s an enjoyable listen.
The album closes with “I Hope You Find Your Way Home,” a strategic blend of the album’s two major sounds: slow melodies and intense rap verses. It’s an apt finale, and a callback to everything good about CHROMAKOPIA. The album is fun, thematic and expertly produced, but most importantly, it has an astonishing novelty — Tyler’s signature flair. His experimentality is a wonder to behold on this album and his discography.
Mia Roman-Wilson is a freshman in the College of Arts and Sciences. She can be reached at [email protected].