Tyler, the Creator’s ‘DON’T TAP THE GLASS’
A surprise summer album from one of hip-hop’s consistent juggernauts couldn’t have dropped at a more opportune time, when the music of the summer hasn’t stunned as it had in years past.
Following the chromatic stylings of “Chromokopia,” Tyler, the Creator recaptured the public’s fascination with the braggadocious “Don’t Tap The Glass.” If “Chromokopia” was a collection of poignant diary entries, then “Don’t Tap The Glass” is a collection of sporadic, quirky three am notes on your phone. Much of this fun, fluid project revolves around body movement, “no sitting still,” and the parasocial relationship between audience and artist.
The snappy “Big Poe” comes right out of the gate with a devil-may-care attitude and sexually charged lyrics meant to raise some eyebrows. The track, featuring a slick verse from Pharrell, strikes a sweet spot between absurd and arrogant, foreshadowing other tracks like “Mommanem” or “Stop Playing with Me.”
Similarly, the title track, “Don’t Tap That Glass/Tweakin’” spews annoyance and irritation about what people spread online. Tyler, The Creator brushes off people who claim he’s “lost touch with the regular folk” and is forthright about naysayers who question his success.
While this album mainly consists of hip-hop hard hitters, there’s a lighthearted, relaxed side to it, where you can really hear Tyler, the Creator’s tasteful pop and electro-funk stylings reminiscent of projects like “IGOR” or “Call Me If You Get Lost.” You can also hear some small influences from Daft Punk on some of the processed backing vocals.
“Sugar on My Tongue” perfectly meshes R&B with synthpop as a danceable, sexually confident anthem. It’s really clever how he places body movement in an evocative context with an unshakeable come-hither attitude. “Sucka Free” is a slick display of success and triumph backed with a 90s electro-funk vibe. Also, having a hook like “I’m that guy, tryna get my paper, baby” was pure musical ingenuity just with how quickly it can get stuck in your head.
“Ring, Ring, Ring” and “I’ll Take Care of You” are romantic standouts amidst an in-your-face, bombastic tracklist. I thought Tyler, the Creator, peaked with yearning on “IGOR,” but “Ring, Ring Ring” touches so deeply on missing everything about a person from their touch to their voice. Lyrics like “I know you said not to call you, but I miss you” feel so visceral and personal, and the 70s R&B-disco glamour only enhances it.
“I’ll Take Care of You” has an eccentric, dreamy instrumental that honestly reminds me of ice cream truck music. I think that works tremendously in this track’s favour, especially when blending with guest singer Yebba’s saccharine vocals.
Lyrically, the track is simple yet tender, but the instrumentation really outshines everything. From the Killa C and Princess rap samples to the drum patterns reminiscent of 2015’s “Cherry Bomb,” it’s a sonic passion project of a track that tastefully leads to the final track, “Tell Me What It Is.” As the album’s finisher, it culminates those themes of romance in a more uncertain light, ending with the question, “Why can’t I find love?”
“Don’t Tap The Glass” was a much-needed musical shift for not only hip-hop but also for the current state of music this year. Even in a surprise release, Tyler, the Creator managed to spill his fervent creativity into such a whimsical, brazen, and romantic tracklist.
Hayley Williams’ ‘Ego Death At a Bachelorette Party’
It’s not every day that you see a popular artist drop a handful of tracks out of nowhere and not have them compiled into an official album. Yet, Paramore’s pioneering frontwoman, Hayley Williams, not only managed to do that but even encouraged fans to compile their own album playlist in any order they chose.
In this new collection of songs, which fans had first dubbed “EGO,” Williams connects to motifs of mental illness, romance, and gender backed with an alternative rock edge. As of Aug. 28, 2025, this album is now formally known as “Ego At A Bachelorette Party.”
The acoustic guitar-heavy “Glum” feels like an apt starting point when delving into this project. The track is pure 2000s sentimental pop-rock with hints of early Paramore sprinkled in. In the lyrics, you hear a profound loneliness when Williams croons, “Do you ever feel so alone that you could implode and no one would know?” She touches deeply on feeling disoriented and finding any reason to keep going.
“Negative Self Talk” loops this same thread, reflecting deeply on being stuck in an echo chamber of loud, depressing thoughts. Williams laments this “chorus of my worst thoughts” while being surrounded by unbearable silence. She pairs these sentiments well with her subdued, sometimes one-note vocals, which really convey despondency and numbness.
Williams swiftly returns to her rock roots when she’s unleashing pop punk swagger on “Ice in My OJ” or writing an ode to antidepressant medication (or as she cleverly describes, her “genie in a screw cap bottle”) on “Mirtazapine.” Both tracks feature punchy guitar work and vocal intricacies like the “I’m in a band” screams on “Ice in My OJ.”
Yearning also persists throughout the tracklist, whether it’s directed at a love interest or directed inwardly. “Love Me Different,” a tropical rock tune laden with beautiful vocal harmonies, finds Williams wishing for someone to love her differently than her previous partner. Even when being reassured that “there’s something better for me down the line,” she ultimately realizes that she is going to have to love herself differently. It’s a gradual realization that feels so authentic yet heartbreaking.
She turns in a more sensual direction with “Hard,” a bass-heavy confession on vulnerability through masculine imagery. Whether it’s listening only to “testosterone music” or killing femininity, she smartly plays with gender and the “softness” that is automatically associated with women.
“Ego Death at A Bachelorette Party,” while not a flawless album entirely with a few duds, manages to spark intricate conversations that aren’t afraid to hit personal places through moody musical palates. As one of modern rock’s most candid singer/songwriter, Hayley Williams establishes her solo musicianship beautifully with familiar pop-punk stylings intact.
Laufey’s ‘A Matter of Time’
A refreshing voice in new-generation jazz pop, Laufey is a musical visionary with some of today’s catchiest, lovey-dovey tunes. And as a classically trained crooner, she’s far from a one-trick – along with jazz and pop, you’ll find her dabbling in bossa nova and baroque. With her newest musical effort, “A Matter of Time,” she puts her best foot forward in a glittery string of whimsy, heartbreak, and new romance while also dwelling on the passing of time.
“Clockwork” and “Lover Girl” are our introductory tracks, offering great helpings of the classic Laufey jazz-pop that we know and love. Laufey’s timbre has never sounded so crisp, and I absolutely adore the flirtatious approach she takes with her voice, especially in the bossa-nova banger, “Lover Girl.” “Oh, what a curse it is to be a lover girl” sounds like it should be delivered with defeat and resentment, but when delivered with quirkiness, it’s as if Laufey wanted to add “but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Early on, the album ventures into sentimental territory with a number of heart-clenching ballads.
“Snow White” is about beauty standards and trying to live up to a fairytale ideal that isn’t possible to achieve. Laufey laments how “the people want beauty, skinny always wins,” and feels that she doesn’t belong within rigid societal standards. Paired with a lone acoustic guitar and lush strings, I love that she makes the most out of her alto register to convey broken feelings on self-worth.
“Silver Lining” sounds like it was made to be played at a late-night jazz lounge for lovers. As a declaration of love between two imperfect people, it perfectly captures the bliss of having someone you’d be glad to go to hell with. It’s mawkish balladry at its finest, enhanced tremendously by a dreamy, waltzy guitar melody and backing strings (you’ll notice a significant pattern with her use of orchestral arrangements).
The “Cuckoo Ballet” interlude is a graceful sampling of different melodies found on the album. Laufey brings her A-game with majestic orchestral arrangements that sound like something you’d find in an old Hollywood musical or a traditional Disney princess movie. It’s such a necessary celestial transition from the first act of the tracklist to the second,
The second half doesn’t dazzle quite as brilliantly for me as the first half did, but I’d be foolish to say that there aren’t adoring tunes that will leave listeners with a lasting impression. While tracks “Tough Love” and “A Cautionary Tale” failed to leave a good impression on me musically, others like “Mr. Eclectic” hit the right notes (no pun intended) as another taste of bossa nova filled with spunk and attitude.
The character of Mr. Eclectic (also cleverly referred to as Eclectic Allan Poe) is a full-of-himself poser who is “the very expert on foolish things.” Thank you, Laufey, for making a song making fun of insufferable, arrogant men!
“Clean Air” is a breezy detour into folk-pop, with Laufey’s rich vocal tones and songwriting adding a saccharine quality to the track. There’s an endearing theme on “breathing clean air” and recovering after a period of suffering that she conveys with sincere conviction. Even if suffering never fully goes away, there’s solace in knowing that “greener pastures, wait for me like a lover.”
Finishing this 14-track run with a dismal, sometimes discordant piano ballad, “Sabotage” delves into personal shortcomings and insecurities, and wanting to believe in your partner’s reassurance even when it’s hard to be convinced. Interestingly, the track ends with a crescendo of noise and chaos, which personally felt like an odd note to end on, and I wish she could have chosen another track as the finisher.
As a body of work, “A Matter of Time” shimmers through vivid musical tones and impeccable melodies throughout various genres, even during its weaker moments in the second half. For hopeless romantics, overbearing lovers, or sentimental dreamers, this album strikes the right chords for an enchanting listening experience that puts Laufey’s artful efforts on full display.
