ZOOMERCORE
Tyler, The Creator - Call Me If You Get Lost
When Tyler, The Creator first started making music, he shocked rap fans by establishing himself as an horrorcore ringleader of the no-holds-barred, spit in your face rap collective Odd Future. His beats were made on pirated copies of FL studio, and his lyrics consisted of violent fantasies, disturbing desires and a distaste for authority. As Tyler matured, he expanded his music pallet and became a seriously competent beat maker. On Wolf and Cherry Bomb, Tyler’s progress in the studio is apparent. The lush, Neptunes-inspired synth ballads are paired with raw, frantic bangers which led to Tyler’s status as a hip hop wunderkind. After rising to fame and establishing himself as a mainstay in the rap game, he had serious comments and questions about fame. Tyler’s opus, Flower Boy, finds himself dealing with real issues: the morality of stardom, heartbreak, and his own sexuality. His next album, Igor, was a step back from Flower Boy lyrically, and, oh boy, if Igor was lyrically shallow, I don’t even know what to say about Call Me If You Get Lost.
On CMIYGL, Tyler isn’t expressing grief about fame anymore; He isn’t painting a cohesive story of love and heartbreak, he isn’t telling us horror fiction about stalker home invasions, he isn’t inciting anarchism, he isn’t making offensive nonsensical bangers with his skateboarding friends, he isn’t even innovating on a production front. So what IS he doing exactly?
If you want to hear Tyler rap about his passport, eating Ciabatta bread, scuba diving and his skincare routine, this is the album for you. After Tyler’s first verse in the studio about driving a McLauren in Tulum, did no one mention that maybe we wouldn’t want to listen to 50 minutes of that? Tyler delivers some truly terrible verses over the course of CMIYGL, including an obnoxious quip on institutional racism "whips on whips, my ancestors got they backs out." In the past year we’ve heard Lil Baby have more profound things to say on race in America.
The album opens with a narrative motif comparing his life to an 1800s poet Baudelaire (side note: It was already a lot of work to listen to 50 minutes of Tyler, now I’m having to read a Wikipedia of some French poet too). His Baudelaire character falls extremely flat in comparison to a lot of his earlier “personas.” If he wants to make music about his insane wealth, material luxury and traveling the world, then it seems like a slap in the face to then spit half a verse on racism or whine about how fans 10 years ago tried to cancel him.
Tyler’s signature production is here in full force, and his synth work provides an easy-listening, smooth silver lining to the lyrics. Tyler has a knack for finding catchy chord changes and sticky, sweet melodies. His jazzy synths and flipped samples provide a warm, lush environment that remains cohesive throughout the 53 minutes. However, it's not exactly a step forward from any of his previous work. It seems that in 2018, Tyler was given a Rhodes keyboard and learned what 7th chords are and said “okay I’m just gonna stay here forever.” The real highlight to the album is the features. The album has great verses from Lil Uzi Vert, Lil Wayne and Pharrel. By the time any of them come into the song, their verses sound like a breath of fresh air. When Lil Uzi comes into JUGGERNAUT, for a second you remember what solid rapping sounds like.
Overall, Call Me if You Get Lost seems like a step back for an artist who has delivered some of the best music of the 2010s. He does not innovate on the production front, and lyrically Tyler seems as lost as the islands he vacations on. The TikTok zoomers will surely love this album, and I can’t really blame them. It seems that these days Tyler gets by more on aesthetic and personal brand than actual musical chops, and for kids that wear Depop bedazzled jorts and constantly post pictures of their jawline, who really gives a shit. The thing is, usually I agree with the TikTokers, this is ZOOMERcore afterall. However, on the Tyler front, I’ll stick with the oldies and go out like a boomer listening to Goblin and Flower Boy. This album gets a minor yikes/10
On CMIYGL, Tyler isn’t expressing grief about fame anymore; He isn’t painting a cohesive story of love and heartbreak, he isn’t telling us horror fiction about stalker home invasions, he isn’t inciting anarchism, he isn’t making offensive nonsensical bangers with his skateboarding friends, he isn’t even innovating on a production front. So what IS he doing exactly?
If you want to hear Tyler rap about his passport, eating Ciabatta bread, scuba diving and his skincare routine, this is the album for you. After Tyler’s first verse in the studio about driving a McLauren in Tulum, did no one mention that maybe we wouldn’t want to listen to 50 minutes of that? Tyler delivers some truly terrible verses over the course of CMIYGL, including an obnoxious quip on institutional racism "whips on whips, my ancestors got they backs out." In the past year we’ve heard Lil Baby have more profound things to say on race in America.
The album opens with a narrative motif comparing his life to an 1800s poet Baudelaire (side note: It was already a lot of work to listen to 50 minutes of Tyler, now I’m having to read a Wikipedia of some French poet too). His Baudelaire character falls extremely flat in comparison to a lot of his earlier “personas.” If he wants to make music about his insane wealth, material luxury and traveling the world, then it seems like a slap in the face to then spit half a verse on racism or whine about how fans 10 years ago tried to cancel him.
Tyler’s signature production is here in full force, and his synth work provides an easy-listening, smooth silver lining to the lyrics. Tyler has a knack for finding catchy chord changes and sticky, sweet melodies. His jazzy synths and flipped samples provide a warm, lush environment that remains cohesive throughout the 53 minutes. However, it's not exactly a step forward from any of his previous work. It seems that in 2018, Tyler was given a Rhodes keyboard and learned what 7th chords are and said “okay I’m just gonna stay here forever.” The real highlight to the album is the features. The album has great verses from Lil Uzi Vert, Lil Wayne and Pharrel. By the time any of them come into the song, their verses sound like a breath of fresh air. When Lil Uzi comes into JUGGERNAUT, for a second you remember what solid rapping sounds like.
Overall, Call Me if You Get Lost seems like a step back for an artist who has delivered some of the best music of the 2010s. He does not innovate on the production front, and lyrically Tyler seems as lost as the islands he vacations on. The TikTok zoomers will surely love this album, and I can’t really blame them. It seems that these days Tyler gets by more on aesthetic and personal brand than actual musical chops, and for kids that wear Depop bedazzled jorts and constantly post pictures of their jawline, who really gives a shit. The thing is, usually I agree with the TikTokers, this is ZOOMERcore afterall. However, on the Tyler front, I’ll stick with the oldies and go out like a boomer listening to Goblin and Flower Boy. This album gets a minor yikes/10