Review: CHROMAKOPIA reaffirms Tyler, The Creator is a lyrical genius

Tyler Gregory Okonma, the alternative hip-hop artist known as Tyler, The Creator, released his eighth studio album “CHROMAKOPIA” on Oct. 28. This album is an advancement of the “Tyler sound” fans like myself love, but his heart-wrenching composition and vulnerable lyrics prove the artist's maturity and his strong sense of self. 

The album was released following a rapid song rollout and short-notice album release announcement on Oct. 16, a teaser video which took the internet by storm as fans theorized what the album would contain, many speculating R&B artist Frank Ocean would be featured (he was not). 

The album is a lyrical journey that travels through Okonma's childhood, relationship troubles and success as an artist. He is known to genre bend, so it only makes sense that the tracklist is expertly infused with hip-hop, soul and R&B.

Typical to the nature of many Tyler, The Creator songs, “I Killed You” takes a dark twist with metaphorical anecdotes of Okonma's insecurities as a Black man. At first, the transition from “Hey Jane” to “I Killed You” shocked me, but it adds to the shock factor produced by his past releases.

“Berries and oils, your naturе was so / simple / But I guess the coils and kinks bеcame an / issue / Therefore, bitch, I killed you,” he raps.

“I Killed You” is a metaphorical representation of how Okonma has masked — or rather “killed” — his true identity through chemical and expensive products that alter his natural hair texture. This song resonates with me and other Black individuals who, at one point or another, have had a similar mentality; to do whatever was advertised in the community to look presentable in the eyes of a racist society.

However, at the same time, in “Thought I was Dead,” Okonma calls out the prevalent cultural appropriation of Black creatives like himself, highlighting a paradox within the relationship between the media and Blackness.

But what stood out to me was “Noid”, the third track on the album, which the artist released as a single on Oct. 21. In “Noid,” the rapper explores his fear as a public figure.

“Things feel out of order / Look and look around / I'm not sure of / Pair of paranoia, no / Feel it in my aura / Living between cameras and recorders, ah, yeah / I want peace but can't afford ya,” he raps in the song.

He lists the habits he developed to cope alongside a recognizable rock-style tempo. At the end of the song, Okonma sings about the danger he — or rather, his alter ego — feels at times, as a result. 

I always appreciated Tyler's experimentation, and “Noid” brilliantly blends elements of psychedelic soul-rock, rap and Zambian rock with a chorus sampling “Nizakupanga Ngozi” by the Zambian rock band Ngozi Family. This song's style felt new compared to the rest of his catalog, and adding the chorus certifies that the rapper has ears for tempo and an appreciation of genres outside of hip-hop.

Compared to Okonma's explicit verses on his love interests in previous albums like “Goblin” and “Cherry Bomb”, this album has a sensitive outlook on love; mostly with “Darling, I” and “Hey Jane”. To me, “Hey Jane” was significantly feminist because Tyler acknowledges how pregnancy affects the woman more than the man. 

“But, hey, Jane / who am I to come bitch and complain? / You gotta deal with all the mental and the physical change / All the heaviest emotions / and the physical pain / Just to give the kid the man's last name?” Okonma raps.

This new outlook on love is also reflected in “Like Him,” a somber R&B song that reminded me of his 2018 album “Flower Boy.” 

“How could I ever miss somethin' / that I’d never had? / I would never judge ya / 'Cause everything worked out without him / (Like what?),” Okonma raps. 

In this song, Okonma is talking directly to his mother: addressing a complicated childhood situation, where Okonma is responding to finding out she intentionally kept his dad away from him. Okonma's compassion towards his mother in this song made it one of the most emotional songs on the album and speaks to a forgiving outlook on complicated familial relationships. 

A central motif of “the light” emerges in “St. Chroma” and again in the last track, “I Hope You Find Your Way Home.” The light is really for fans to interpret, but I believe it symbolizes realization, or self realization. The ultimate lesson in the final track is that “the light comes from within.” Simply put, the light is not the story-like ending where it shines at the end of the road; he has to bring it out of himself.

Overall, the album is a development of his discography, and it got my attention for the standout lines and genre-bending he is known for. The music is still classic Tyler — just a bit more mature, and arguably more vulnerable. 

After listening, I truly believe Tyler, The Creator is a lyrical genius because CHROMAKOPIA proves once again that he is a master storyteller.

@dthlifestyle | lifestyle@dailytarheel.com