★★★★★
Visually, the opening minute of Chromakopia is drab and colorless. As the camera pans out, a barren landscape emerges—lifeless, save for the central character and his followers. A mask conceals his identity, keeping his emotions tucked away.
Of course—as listeners have come to expect over a decade into his career—Tyler, the Creator’s eighth studio album plays out the exact opposite of this scene.
With Chromakopia, Tyler synthesizes thematic and melodic elements from his past work into a kaleidoscope of brags, vulnerabilities, and paranoias. His latest release is quintessential Tyler, marrying the provocative and the profound—often in the same verse—in a way only he can.
The opening track, “St. Chroma,” begins subdued with a whispered verse, before coming to life in its second half. Supported by Daniel Caesar’s vocals, the song finds Tyler questioning the direction of his career.
“Mirror got me thinking about my bookend / I just need this time to myself to figure me out / Do I keep the light on or do I gracefully bow out?” Tyler asks.
The answer to that question becomes obvious over the album’s remaining 13 tracks.
Tyler turns up the heat on the album’s next song, throwing out easy boasts over a frenetic beat on “Rah Tah Tah.” This is Call Me If You Get Lost Tyler, back with a vengeance.
“The biggest out the city after Kenny that’s a fact now,” Tyler raps, showing love to fellow West Coast hip-hop titan Kendrick Lamar.
But Chromakopia is hardly ever content with staying confined to a single lane. On “Darling, I,” Tyler swerves and pulls from his Flower Boy bag, layering a sugary sweet chorus over a cold and cynical verse.
“Nobody could fulfill me like this music shit does / So I’ll be lonely with these Grammys when it’s all said and done,” Tyler laments.
Tyler strips back the production on “Hey Jane” and lets his pen do the work, painting a double-sided portrait of an unplanned pregnancy.
“We still learnin’ each other, I don’t know all of you / And you don’t know all of me / How am I to live with?” Tyler ponders. “That is not a good foundation to have kids with / Or maybe it is, maybe it’s not, just not yet / Maybe this is a blessing in disguise and not a regret.”
After “Sticky”—the album’s most explosive track that weaves together verses from GloRilla, Sexyy Red, and Lil Wayne—Tyler’s paranoia returns on “Tomorrow.” He’s 33 years old, eight albums, and two Grammys into his career, yet can’t help but wonder whether it’s time for more.
“My brodie had another baby, that’s like number two / My homegirl, her knot tied, she like 32 / They sharin’ pictures of these moments, shit is really cute / And all I got is photos of my ’Rari and some silly suits,” Tyler reflects.
Fresh off dropping one of 2024’s strongest rap albums in BLUE LIPS, ScHoolboy Q crashes the scene on “Thought I Was Dead” to deliver a commanding verse. Doechii joins in two tracks later to add another standout feature on “Balloon.”
But it’s the track in between these two where Tyler reaches the album’s emotional centerpiece by picking at an old wound: his absent father. It’s not something he’s shied away from addressing, broaching the subject matter as far back as 2013.
“’Cause when I call / I hope you pick up your phone / I’d like to talk to you,” Tyler yearns on Wolf’s “Answer.”
On “Like Him,” Tyler is still fighting with the same complicated thoughts. He’s accomplished as much as he could imagine without him, but somehow the image of that missing figure lingers.
“How could I ever miss something that I’d never had?” Tyler asks.
Even with all the accolades, all the fame, and all the riches, Tyler still wonders today: “Do I look like him?”
One verse makes up Chromakopia’s final song “I Hope You Find Your Way Home,” but it’s all Tyler needs to ruminate further on whether he’s ready to be a father.
The verse, like the album as a whole, is contradictory—just the kind of beautifully chaotic style that Tyler’s now perfected.
“The light comes from within / The light comes from within,” the song and album’s outro repeats.
Chromakopia is no high-concept album like Igor, nor is it a thoughtful victory lap like Call Me If You Get Lost. Instead, it’s as honest of an album as Tyler has ever released, a landmark achievement for a rapper who’s no stranger to vulnerability.
Chromakopia is proof that Tyler’s light will stay shining wherever he goes.
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