The chorus to "LUMBERJACK," a 2021 track from Tyler, the Creator, reminds the listener that he's an "MSG sellout." The auteur shut down Madison Square Garden during his 2019 tour for IGOR – so, for better and for worse, I had high hopes going into this 2025 New York City spectacle, one of a few performances he's hosting at the Garden this tour.

It’s a cliché to dub any album an artist’s "most personal," but Tyler's latest, Chromakopia, has a sheen roughed up by lyrics and samples which place his immediate struggles in focus. The artist, born Tyler Okonma, resides in that halfway point between young life and midlife crisis.

The tour for Chromakopia sees Tyler’s undercard filled by two opening acts: Paris Texas and Lil Yachty. Forgive me, but I wanted to bank most of my energy to see a fellow Tyler light up the crowd.

When I walked into MSG (a wee bit late), the sub-bass assaulted my senses. Lil Yachty was still going hard. My sister, whom I attended the show with, and I caught bits of hits like "Minnesota." Chromakopia-branded shipping crates loomed in the darkness, perhaps holding the man himself.

As Tyler walked out to a deafening audience, I couldn’t help but wonder if an early ‘70s Mercedes 600 sat backstage to whisk him away after the show. He looked like a (non-evil!) dictator in a crisp, green military getup, ready to have his troops fall in line.

I turned to my sister after kickoff banger "St. Chroma" and said "this is the coolest motherfucker in the world." And I meant it.

Now, I know what you're thinking: no, this review is not the work of some Tyler, the Creator stan. I didn’t know a good chunk of the songs. The sound was too blown-out for my taste at points – perhaps he double-tracked or triple-tracked the 808s. At certain moments, the emphasis felt more on the man than the music.

Yes, the show seemed to be a vehicle for Tyler’s strutting through the corridors of his own mind, rather than in front of thousands. He sat down at the edge of the stage and got intimate at one point, during "Judge Judy." During the catwalk sequence from the main stage to the B stage, the show felt like the photo negative of a crooked ruler’s rally.

When he hit "Take Your Mask Off," yep, he took his mask off. A different side of Okonma surfaced as he strode towards the B stage.

Here, we saw Tyler at home, going through his vinyl, before the ominous synth drone opening "IGOR’S THEME" hit the crowd. Then Tyler appeared, minus the army uniform. This was the genuine Tyler on stage now.

As he continued the vinyl act, flipping from record to record, we ate up his every move. All of Madison Square Garden became stoned buddies, waiting to hear what classic he’d play for us next.

Back to the main stage. Phone flashlights up and swaying for "Like Him." Tyler’s in his feels, and so are we. Did (literal) sparks fly behind Tyler for this one? Of course.

As the shipping crates lowered on Tyler during his final bow, I realized that calling the night a concert felt wrong. I saw a man bearing his heart, for the worse and (mostly) for the better.