Chromakopia Review

Bonita Smith, Tyler's mother, narrates this record, and the choice sets the terms: he cannot get away with a bit while she is talking. St. Chroma opens on a marching stomp and a whisper. Noid takes a Zambian rock record from the seventies and turns celebrity paranoia into something genuinely unpleasant to sit inside. Hey Jane runs both sides of an unplanned pregnancy in one song and refuses to land anywhere comfortable.

Like Him, built on his mother's voice again, is the most affecting thing here and the hardest to play twice. Sticky and Rah Tah Tah are the release valves and they work. Take Your Mask Off states the thesis a little too plainly for a record this careful everywhere else. Where it strains is mood and length. Nearly an hour of self interrogation with the choir up and the drums loud is exhausting, several of the warmest reviews said so while still praising it, and the middle stretch circles its own arguments.

The production is dense and expensive and occasionally too busy for the confessions inside it. Set against Igor's economy this is sprawl. Set against anything before Flower Boy it is a serious record by a man who no longer needs the costume and puts one on regardless.