With his new album, Tyler, the Creator has failed.
Last August, when Tyler appeared on the cover of GQ Style, he told the magazine that the biggest frustration of his career has been his inability to get radio play. “I've been trying to get on the radio. I haven't been super successful with that, but that time will come,” he said.
Maybe that time will come and maybe it won’t, but it almost definitely will not come now. IGOR, the 28-year-old multi-dimensional artist’s (at this point, “rapper” feels insufficient) sixth album, is 12 songs long, and none of the dozen lend naturally to the commercial airwaves. The album’s not neat enough for that; it’s too full of conflict—packed with fragmented melodies and fractured feelings, beauty undercut by syncopation and devilish voices.
And yet, while IGOR may fail by Tyler’s own metrics, by any others it’s a resounding success. The very qualities that make it unsuitable for radio make it extremely potent in other contexts. On first blush, it’s the best work of Tyler’s career and a leading contender for Album of the Year.
For what it’s worth, I think Tyler, the Creator knows all of this. On the occasion of the album’s release, he posted a note to social media, instructing fans on what to expect (“...THIS IS NOT CHERRY BOMB. THIS IS NOT FLOWER BOY…. DON’T GO INTO THIS EXPECTING A RAP ALBUM. DON’T GO INTO THIS EXPECTING ANY ALBUM.”) and how to listen (“I BELIEVE THE FIRST LISTEN WORKS BEST ALL THE WAY THROUGH, NO SKIPS. FRONT TO BACK. NO DISTRACTIONS EITHER.”). In some contexts, an artist dictating the terms of engagement in that way might’ve come off as overbearing or pretentious. But with IGOR, it’s easy to see why Tyler felt the need. It’s a cohesive album, not just a collection of songs—something that bears stipulating in this age of streaming and constant distraction. And the post also could be read as an admission: that Tyler understood he hadn’t yet cracked the code to radio play, so don’t go in expecting catchy hooks and Max Martin production.
Rather, the note suggested he understood he had done something... else. One word in particular stuck out: “MOMENTS.” Tyler asked fans to think about what their favorite moments were on the album, and articulate them if they ever cross paths with him. Moments, indeed, are a more appropriate frame through which to consider IGOR than songs. Almost all of IGOR’s tracks either accumulate unexpected layers or sever from themselves at some point, and many do both. They have a way of twisting into different sonic or emotional universes, picking up new voices (Kali Uchis, Jerrod Carmichael, Frank Ocean), and getting pleasantly lost in themselves. If you listen with your eyes closed, you probably won’t be able to tell where any given song begins and ends.
Memorable moments, on the other hand, abound. IGOR is full of inspired contributions (Dev Hynes and Charlie Wilson singing together on the lovesick “EARFQUAKE,” Carmichael’s short asides, Mild High Club’s backing vocals on “GONE, GONE / THANK YOU”), bits of pure Tylerian humor (“'Bout to go buck wild, nigga Steve Irwin (I see the light) / Sick of that Claritin, I'm on my third one”), and compelling bits of production (the propulsive, paranoid beginning to “WHAT’S GOOD,” the Al Green-sampling euphoric closer “ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?”).
My favorite song on the album is the one that, to my ears, has the most great moments: “NEW MAGIC WAND.” It begins with Carmichael deadpanning “Sometimes you have to open a door to close a window” as if it were a common bromide. The beat, early on, has so much bass it could shake an elephant. Ten seconds in comes a comically devious laugh. It includes the perfect yearbook quote, “My eyes are green, I eat my veggies.” A$AP Rocky’s recruited to voice the simple refrain “Like magic, like magic, like magic, gone,” but his voice is distorted such that you have to wonder, Is his presence just a flex by Tyler? And midway through, bells ring, and the track threatens to derail—but then surprises by staying on course.
“NEW MAGIC WAND” is emblematic of the beautifully unconventional way Tyler’s brain works. He may hate his voice and blame it for his lack of radio success, but in reality it’s his brilliantly bizarro mind that prevents him from being viable in that stodgy medium. What makes him great is also what makes him incapable of achieving the thing he most wants to achieve. It’s tragic, in a way; on the other hand, the love story IGOR tells suggests Tyler has bigger concerns.