The first rap song I fell in love with was “Rigamortus” by Kendrick Lamar. It’s a great listen and a good introduction to the genre. The second rap song I fell in love with was “Tamale” by Tyler, the Creator, which YouTube auto played after “Rigamortus.” “Tamale” fires unfunny shock-jock lyrics over a 5-year-old wailing “tamaleeeeeee” repeatedly. If that’s your thing, take a listen. Just keep in mind I was a newly hormonal and terminally online 13-year-old boy and would enjoy something like that. 

Fortunately, Tyler and I grew up and developed self-respect. While I began wearing deodorant later than I should have been, Tyler went on an unfathomable run of two Grammy awards, sold out arenas and ran successful fashion lines, all while defying a genre with multifaceted creativity. I’d say we’re on similar paths, but that’s beside the point. “Chromakopia” is Tyler’s eighth studio album released after a surprise 2-week rollout, bucking his trend of bi-yearly summer releases. 

Regarding bucking trends, “Chromakopia” is Tyler, the Creator’s most honest release. Typically creating vast universes full of alter egos, “Chromakopia” feels like whatever spews from Tyler’s brain. I’ll take whatever’s spewing from that beautiful brain of his, because it sounds unbelievable. Every second of “Chromakopia,” from Tyler’s distinct production style to the fantastic feature lineup, is manicured to perfection. The opener, “St. Chroma,” punches listeners in the mouth with a military drum line, juxtaposed, whispered and aggressive delivery against a gorgeous Daniel Caesar bridge. “Rah Tah Tah” is an unhinged banger, with Tyler braggadocious-ly breaking his voice on the chorus. “The biggest out the city after Kenny, that’s a fact now,” Tyler mutters. The city is Los Angeles. It’s not crazy to say he’s right.

Following rocking openers, Tyler gets strangely, yet refreshingly, introspective. Noid raps about Tyler’s rise to stardom and the increasing paranoia he’s felt since 19. Album highlight “Darling, I,” with feature merchant Teezo Touchdown, gorgeously describe Tyler’s struggles with monogamy and how he’ll “be lonely with these Grammy’s when it’s all said and done.” “Take Your Mask Off” criticizes others and Tyler’s own inauthenticity and “Like Him” is a heart wrenching ballad about fatherlessness. 

Now that’s out of the way, I want to talk about my favorite song “Sticky.” I could write a whole article about “Sticky.” Featuring Glorilla, Sexxy Red and Lil Wayne, the Young Buck sampling posse cut is a window shaker. Wailing horns, insane risers and hilarious verses make me want to punch a hole through a wall. In fact, “Chromokopia” either makes me either punch holes through walls (“Rah Tah Tah,” “Sticky”), cry hysterically (“Tomorrow,” “Like Him”), self-reflect (“Darling, I,” “Judge Judy”) or go outside with my friends (“Balloon,” “Thought I was Dead”) in a neatly packaged album. Hot-ish take, but Tyler, the Creator’s appreciation for artistry and attention to detail throughout his discography has ascended to a prime Kanye West status. Fantastic album all the way through, clears “Tamale.”