Tyler, the Creator isn’t exactly a “spell it out” kind of guy, but he made an exception for his new song “Big Poe.” On Monday morning, after years of indulging in blonde bob wigs and cockroach-eating cryptics, the 34-year-old used the track’s opening words to issue an unambiguous command to fans and critics who are surely waiting to dissect his latest mosaic: “No sitting still… dance, bro.” It’s a mandate that’s easy to follow with “Don’t Tap the Glass,” a meticulous yet deliberately low-stakes new album that skips through the Black dance music diaspora with jittery electricity and his customarily quirky ingenuity. Light on introspection, but heavy on ‘80s inspo, it’s a neon basement party Tyler managed to stuff into a cross-generational funhouse.
Blending spurts of house, techno and Black family reunion funk, “Don’t Tap The Glass” is a summer album that thrives on uninhibited fun. And, at 29 minutes, it largely plays out like a micro-rave. That focus stands in contrast to last year’s “Chromakopia,” a more lyrically ambitious album that discussed topics like abortion and fractured familial bonds he was barely able to mend. For this one, Tyler leans into braggadocio instead of brooding. The bluster is all there, and so is his experimentation. On “Big Poe,” he meshes psychedelic Indian music (Shye Ben Tzur, Jonny Greenwood and the Rajasthan Express) with ’60s electronic (Gershon Kingsley) and a Busta Rhymes chorus (“Pass the Courvoisier”) for something abrasive and weird. “Burn this shit down, turn this shit up / I don’t consent, I don’t give fucks / You on my dick / Wipe your lips off while I zip up,” he spits, emitting all the casual dismissiveness of a rap star who’s just refused to sign your Golf Wang shirt. Now’s not the time for pictures; it’s time to “Hit Dem Folks.” Or do some theatrical ’80s rap pantomimes, which Tyler dives into in his video for “Stop Playing With Me.”
Like the visual itself, “Stop Playing With Me” seems to take some cues from LL Cool J’s “I’m Bad”; the industrial percussion sounds like annoying Queens construction work on a Tuesday morning. The techno synths layer it in nervousness and genuine exasperation. Tyler’s bars here are — throughout the album, but particularly for this number — as cutting as they are economical, matching pace with rhythms you can contort your body to. Tyler’s sentiments are forceful and direct enough to swirl it all into something anthemic: “Fuck you and your dreams, stop playin’ with me.”
If “Big Poe” and “Stop Playing With Me” are kinetic and confrontational, tracks like “Sucka Free” are breezily funky. Flaunting a slightly exaggerated Cali accent, Tyler cruises gleaming, boogie synths like he’s floating in a low-rider. Blended with a chill melodic hook, it feels like it could’ve soundtracked the whole barbecue scene from “Poetic Justice.” You can practically see Tyler pretending to be someone’s cousin as he digs into a plate of ribs and potato salad.
Another feat of inventive eccentricity, “I’ll Take Care of You,” alchemizes “Cherry Bomb” drums and a “Knuck If U Buck” refrain into a jagged lover’s anthem. Tyler’s twitchy vocal performances make it all electric even when the lyrics themselves can occasionally feel a tad indistinct. (Hooks like “Sucka Free” are serviceable, but saying you’re literally chasing paper is a little colorless for 2025.) His attitude always sells it all, anyway, and the acrobatics remain intermittently impressive. He threads all the sounds and vibes with an auteur’s aesthetic creativity and Frankensteinian instincts for genre fusion.
If no track on “Don’t Tap the Glass” reaches the creative summits of the “Igor” track “Earfquake” or last year’s “Sticky” or the pop irresistibility of “See You Again,” it doesn’t much matter. Tyler himself has already complained about people trying to compare this album to “Chromakopia.” In some ways, he’s really someone you can only compare to himself. Or, you can just dance.
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From Variety US