Tom Walker
Junior Editor
Obscenities used
Chromakopia is a bit of a conundrum. The album focuses on Tyler, The Creator’s romantic situationships and his worries about aging without settling down. These intimate thoughts are contrasted with a constant fear of being judged as a public figure. But, by focusing on his private life, the album reveals the exact things that Tyler, The Creator is scared of being judged for.
The album’s first song, “St. Chroma,” starts with narration of the artist’s mother. In a moment reminiscent of the first verse in Genesis she says, “You are the light, it’s not on you it’s in you. Don’t you ever in your motherfucking life dim your light for nobody.” The song positions Tyler, The Creator’s late mother as a saint, abbreviated to St. in the song’s title, who urges him to continue the artistic career that’s brought him so much success. The album’s next song, “Rah Tah Tah,” goes as far as to call him the second best artist of his time after Kendrick Lamar. But, Tyler, The Creator’s relationship with music isn’t exactly healthy. On the album, he often positions his musical career as filling a void that a wife or husband (because you can never really tell with him) leaves in his life. He justifies this choice on songs like “Noid” where he worries about trusting women because “if you good they could trap you.” While this concern seems to be a real one, it’s expressed on a track about his paranoia. “Darling, I” gives an in depth analysis of Tyler, The Creator’s reasons for not settling down. In the song, he compares the women in his life to cars: with Bimmers (BMWs) drifting well, Ferraris handling better, and Rolls-Royces feeling safest. Each of the women have appeal, but can’t be chosen over all of the other women in his life. So, instead of picking one woman, he chooses to be with them all. What makes this lifestyle problematic for Tyler, The Creator is that it has an expiration date. In the song, he acknowledges that he can’t live his philanderous lifestyle when he is older. So, despite having constant companionship, knowing that none of his relationships can last forever drives him to be with his music instead of a partner.
The next track, “Hey Jane,” reintroduces the narration of the artist’s mother with her advising her son to “always, always, always, wear a condom.” “Hey Jane” follows a hypothetical where Tyler, The Creator’s affairs aren’t as cut and dry. It follows the ever-present possibility of pregnancy and the partners’ reaction to being pregnant. At the beginning of the pregnancy, both partners are excited to tell their parents and their friends, but as the reality of pregnancy dawns on them they become reluctant and scared. The track’s name refers to the way Tyler, The Creator would greet her (i.e., by saying “Hey Jane”) and the name of the sexual telehealth and abortion clinic service Hey Jane. Even disregarding the inevitability of his short-term sexual relationships ending, “Hey Jane” cements the fact that the relationships are never as simple as Tyler, The Creator would like them to be. The track ends with the couple deciding whether or not to abort the pregnancy. Because the artist doesn’t have a child, it can be assumed that the child was aborted.
By this point in the album, listeners may be starting to judge Tyler, The Creator in the way he worried about in “Noid.” “Judge Judy” answers these judgments by flipping them on their head. The song follows the most explicit affair on the album. Tyler, The Creator quickly courts Judy and learns all of her sexual desires. He’s explicit about her sexual history and various sexual fetishes, but tells the audience not to “judge Judy.” In many ways, Judy’s history and desires match Tyler, The Creator’s real history and desires. The song’s desire to resuscitate Judy’s image is likely the artist’s desire to not be seen as a player or a fuck boy. At the end of the song, it’s revealed that Judy uses sex to gain intimacy with men because she is a terminal cancer patient. In a post-mortem letter, Judy thanks Tyler, The Creator for not judging her and tells him to “live [his] life, [his] truest self, with no regrets” like she did. The song is eerily similar to Prince’s “Darling Nikki,” but humanizes its seductress in a way that “Darling Nikki” didn’t. But, by choosing to explain her sexual habits, Tyler, The Creator falls into the stereotype that promiscuity in women comes from being damaged.
The last song following this theme is “Like Him.” The track begins with St. Chroma (Tyler, The Creator’s mother) telling Tyler, The Creator that he looks like his father, but he was never able to meet his father. This leads him to say, “Mama, I’m chasing a ghost. I don’t know who he is.” It’s immediately clear that Tyler, The Creator could easily occupy the position of his father. His womanizing could easily lead to the same kind of fatherless childhood that he endured. The song ends with St. Chroma telling the artist that she prevented his father from being close to him and asking for forgiveness. The song launches the album’s themes into the realm of intergenerational trauma. There’s no way to heal the scars left by fatherlessness, but Tyler, The Creator can prevent forming new wounds in future generations.
What makes the album so striking is that Tyler, The Creator doesn’t give a concise solution to generational trauma. Chromakopia feels like a man going through trauma and dissecting it in real time. The trust issues that formed in Tyler, The Creator’s childhood prevent him from trusting women in the way that he would need to for a healthy long-term relationship. Consequently, he runs the risk of recreating the same issues by following his own sexual desires. The album’s pleas to not “judge Judy” are complicated by the fact that “Like Him” gives great reasons to judge her: and, by extension, Tyler, The Creator. On the other hand, the album’s explicit sexual adventures capture the pleasure that drives the artist to make the choices he knows are problematic. There’s a difficult choice to be made and Chromakopia isn’t about which choice is right; it’s about the complexity of the choice itself.
If you haven’t listened to Chromakopia, you should. The album is more than its bangers, of which it has many. Each song stands out, but together they create a whole that’s far greater than its parts. Whether you’re a fan of rap, trap, pop, or R&B, there is something in Chromakopia for you. If Chromkopia doesn’t have a strong campaign for a Grammy next year, just know it’s been snubbed.