Tyler, the Creator
3Arena, Dublin
★★★★☆
Long before Kneecap were drawing the wrath of the British establishment, Tyler, the Creator had a claim to the title of most controversial name in rap.
Lyrics strewn with apparently homophobic and misogynistic remarks earned him a ban from the UK government in 2015 on the grounds that he posed a threat to public order. Turned away at the border, he claimed he was being treated like a terrorist.
But as is often the case with talented demagogues caught up in a moral panic, there was more to Tyler than shock value – though songs such as Radicals were undoubtedly shocking (“Kill people, burn shit, f**k school”).
Notoriety established, he would spool off in the opposite direction with music that celebrated the simple joys of life and connection. He also broke one of mainstream music’s ultimate taboos by hinting in his lyrics that he was sexually fluid (“Sorry to the guys I had to hide/ Sorry to the girls I had to lie to”).
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The many sides to Tyler are on show during a brilliantly evocative and provocative concert at 3Arena on Saturday night. It begins with the 34-year-old Angeleno materialising in a gloopy green haze, like a groovy Wizard of Oz. A mask covers the top half of his face as he opens with the gorgeous orchestral swell of St Chroma, a gauzy banger from his latest album, Chromakopia.
All the way back to his formative hip-hop group Odd Future – whose enthusiasm for violent wordplay saw them barred from New Zealand – Tyler has been an astute manipulator of image.
This latest tour begins with the rapper wearing a military-style outfit that accentuates the frame of his body, suggesting a cartoon character brought to life. The outrageous costume is combined with robotic dance moves. He pops and wheels like a cybernetic James Brown while white gloves and epaulettes riff on dress-like-a-dictator era Michael Jackson.
Inspired by his mother’s life, his struggles with fame and the Lewis Carrollesque children’s fantasy novel The Phantom Tollbooth, from 1961, his new tracks Noid and I Killed You blend pastoral melodies and nail-spitting rhyming.
But the gloves come off when a gantry descends, and he walks above the crowd. He dispenses with the face covering, too, as he plunges into the emotive Take Your Mask Off, an emotive rumination on staying true to your real self.
The theatrics are amped up further when Tyler descends to a mock-up of his teenage bedroom. Here he indulges in some staged insulting of the audience, dubbing them “w**kers” – a word he surely didn’t pick up in suburban Los Angeles. He next cycles through the body-horror hit parade of Yonkers and Tron Cat, the tunes that saw him turned away by UK customs (on the orders of Theresa May, who was home secretary at the time).
Nightmares turn to dreamy escapism when he returns to the main stage for a seismic Thought I Was Dead before he brings down the curtains with a soulful power ballad, I Hope You Find Your Way Home. While pyrotechnics ping, he leans into his beautifully syrupy falsetto and expresses the hope that everyone in the room gets to where they are meant to be.
Hip hop’s one-time bete noire has cycled through his multitude of personas and stands before the adoring room older, wiser, sadder and sweeter. It is a reminder to other rappers likewise vilified by the authorities: they can scorn and demonise you, but they can never take away your voice.
