DON’T TAP THE GLASS by Tyler, the Creator: Album Review
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It’s been just over two weeks since my favorite artist dropped his newest album, and somehow, it keeps getting better with every listen. DON’T TAP THE GLASS arrived just days after its first tease. There was no long-winded rollout, no traditional press cycle. Just a sudden flood of color, bass, and movement, introduced through art installations and intimate listening parties built for one thing: dancing. Real, sweaty, physical, joy-fueled dancing.
Right out of the gate, “Big Poe” sets the tone. The first thing I wrote down on my second listen (my first was just about experiencing the music freely, the way Tyler intended) was “DANCE!!!!”. Busta Rhymes is yelling at us to jump around, and Pharrell’s feature is perfect. It’s funky, clean, and addictive. From the first few tracks, it was clear this wasn’t the rap-heavy album some people were expecting. It’s a full-blown club fantasy. With “Sugar on My Tongue” and “Sucka Free,” Tyler taps into pure joy. The beats are layered, the adlibs are freaky, and everything feels summery, like sitting in a convertible with the top down and music blasting.
And then there’s my personal favorite, and, in my opinion, the most underrated song on the album, “Mommanem.” It’s short, but it hits hard. The gritty guitar pairs with taunting lyrics and sharp delivery. It’s a punkish, mosh-pit anthem that had me grinning and hitting replay before the track even finished.
If IGOR was stylized heartbreak and CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST was a luxury vacation, then DON’T TAP THE GLASS is Tyler completely unhinged, strobe light in hand, in the best way possible. This album brings back the weirdness of early Tyler, the kind that made me feel like a kid again, hiding under the covers with my headphones at full volume.
“Don’t Tap That Glass / Tweakin’” kicks off like a '90s dance battle and explodes into an '80s video game soundtrack. It’s chaotic, but it all melts together perfectly. The piano lines are theatrical. The venomous bars make you want to pause and catch your breath. The whole track is nostalgic without ever feeling stuck in the past.
Tyler balances his dance floor beats with real emotional depth, especially on the back half of the album. “Don’t You Worry Baby” is soft and ascending, but once the drums kick in, you’re reminded it’s still meant for the dance floor. There’s something almost spiritual in the way he layers melodic adlibs and vocal harmonies over rhythm-heavy beats. It’s a brief moment of levity before “I’ll Take Care of You.” My notes on that track read, “feels like a magical fairytale video game opening, drops into a hard rap verse,” which honestly says everything that needs to be said.
The final track, “Tell Me What It Is,” might be the most emotionally raw moment on the record. A stomping beat drives forward as Tyler delivers heartbreaking lyrics about love that always feels just out of reach. You can’t help but feel for him in his search for something real, something that fits.
“I can buy the galaxy but can’t afford to look for love.”
“Why can’t I find love?”
The layering of sounds is stunning, and Tyler sounds like he’s slowly unraveling with each line. Even within this world of dance and presence, he can’t escape the weight of longing. It’s a beautiful, crushing closer.
DON’T TAP THE GLASS is Tyler at his most free. It’s an album that doesn’t ask much from you, except that you move without holding back. There’s no hidden code to crack. Just bass that makes your teeth shake, gorgeous melodies, and a genius-level artist reminding us that music is meant to be felt. If you’re not sweating by the end, you’re not doing it right.
So don’t overthink the music. Don’t stand still. And don’t tap the glass.
