Tyler, the Creator has a PhD in the art of the pop-up show. His formula: Randomly drop the flyer on social media, set a low enough price to get everyone to mentally buy into it, watch disappointed fans bemoan coming up empty-handed after waiting in the virtual queue, and prepare for who shows up for the party.
He got a practice run at this after dropping Chromakopia in November and throwing a spur-of-the-moment 30-minute listening session in New York at the Brooklyn Army Terminal for $5 a head. Tyler solidified the strategy with his Wednesday surprise listening party to promote his latest 10-track LP, Don’t Tap The Glass. This time, tickets were $10 and even more for resale. “My friend’s tickets were $70,” said 21-year-old Kayla Poole, who just attended the Chromakopia show at Madison Square Garden nearly a week ago. “I had to come because I didn’t think he was going to have a tour [for this album].”
The dancing-required playback was set under New York’s Kosciusko Bridge, connecting Queens and Brooklyn among barren warehouses and hazardous waste centers — a destination requiring me to take three trains and a bus and one that moved an attendee in the bus row in front of me to send a “I’m a real New Yorker now” text to their groupchat as they finished the last leg of the journey.
With the nearly two-hour void between doors opening and Tyler gracing the stage, fans were able to shop new Don’t Tap merch, grab a basket of food truck chicken tenders, or stand on their feet and contemplate if they would actually follow Tyler’s directions and move their bodies tonight. Sade songs and jazz selections played to unsuccessfully satiate the eager audience. “Tyler, please hurry the fuck up,” one exasperated fan yelled behind me.
After people found or, in some cases, shoved their way into the perfect viewing spot, Tyler eventually emerged wearing a blue leather matching set (in July), adorned with a red ‘GLASS’ hat and gloves, and a gold piece in his mouth to match his rope chain. Two giant yellow subwoofer tower speakers flanked his stage to complete a visual primary color wheel. “Imma press play on this bitch and Imma come rock with y’all,” he said while pointing out to the audience. “I might pop back out on this [stage] for one of my favorite songs, but I want to be in the crowd with y’all.” As soon as the intro for the album’s first song, “Big Poe,” featuring Pharrell and vocals from Busta Rhymes, began, the cellphones in the air were shifted toward his new platform, center-right of the crowd. The sea of early twentysomethings jumped at Tyler’s command while Busta’s “Pass the Courvoisier” sample blared to an audience that was mostly born after the 2002 hit.
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As the album played through, smartphones faded as the mystique of the Odd Future leader’s presence died down. Tyler continued to stay on theme by popping his elbows and keeping his hip flexors loose with 360 degrees of gyration. He only broke his dancing to perform his album favorite, “Stop Playing With Me,” with the high throttle energy of someone you’d never guess is in the middle of a world tour right now.
“Y’all good?” he asked the crowd. “Y’all sweating yet?” After commenting on an onlooker with a green hat, he shifted platforms and joined the left side of the audience for the back half of the album, starting with the title track “Don’t Tap That Glass / Tweakin’.” Inflatable beach balls, French fries, and bomb pops appeared out of thin air, thanks to off-stage staffers, to encourage crowd participation in a game of keepy-uppy during “Don’t You Worry Baby,” featuring emerging R&B singer Madison McFerrin.
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Tyler repeatedly expressed his gratitude to the throng of dance partners surrounding him. “I’m still on tour for Chromakopia,” he reminded both the audience and, maybe, himself. Despite giving 110 percent for the full 28-minute playback, he proclaimed, “I’m not fully sweating yet, run it back ‘til they kick us out.” On demand, the album’s intro started again, giving everyone under the suspension bridge a simultaneous Deja Vu.
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On the second run through of Don’t Tap, I joined my peers who are approaching 30 or have lived in the decade for quite some time. Instead of moshing and rubbing bodies, this crowd was dancing with fluidity, locking lips with no inhibitions, vibing out to take in the view, or contemplating when and what would be a good exit strategy to “beat the crowd.” Turns out, the man of the hour should’ve made his way with me to this section as the night progressed. “Bitch, I’m tired.. Goddamn,” he told the crowd right before the second play of the second-to-last song. Just a day earlier and a day after releasing Don’t Tap he was performing in Montreal. “I’m so tired mentally, physically … I’m so weak.” He cut out a bit early as the last songs played to prepare for his Thursday show in Toronto, but not before stamping the night with a tweet that simply said, “SWEATING.”
