Tyler, The Creator joined Manila concert history last weekend. The rapper, producer, Camp Flog Gnaw festival founder, and overall creative force played his first-ever shows in the Philippines on September 20 and 21 at Araneta Coliseum, Quezon City, closing out the final leg of his global tour. For many, the arrival marked a cultural checkpoint for hip-hop, fashion, and alternative art in the country, all of which Tyler has shaped in ways both subtle and blunt for more than a decade.
What made these shows different was not just the scale of his influence, but the way he carried it into a city still catching up to his legacy. Tyler’s path from an unruly skater-rapper out of Los Angeles to one of the most inventive figures in modern music is the story of maturity and defiance. He did not climb alone. Odd Future, the crew he co-founded back in 2007, turned names like Earl Sweatshirt, Frank Ocean, Syd, Hodgy Beats, and Jasper Dolphin into their own distinct forces.
Yet, as diverse his discography was, Tyler was always an instigator and ringleader — whether it was in his menacing and confrontational concept albums like the Wolf trilogy, or his more tender yet flamboyant Flowerboy and IGOR. Few rappers have shifted shapes with the same speed and conviction, and that long arc of invention is why the build up to Manila felt like a fever.
In the weeks before the show, green trucks wound through the city advertising his concerts. Social media filled with influencers posting fit checks modeled after Tyler’s different eras. His new album, Don’t Tap the Glass, was already being played on repeat among Filipino fans, a record as chaotic and blunt as the world it came from. By the time gates opened at Araneta, the fashion alone looked like a retrospective. Some showed up in full IGOR uniform with blonde wigs, oversized black shades, and pastel blazers; others leaned into the Call Me If You Get Lost look with the Hawaiian polos and ushankas. For every direct homage, there were dozens more simply dressed for a hip-hop show. The variety felt right. Tyler’s catalog has never been just one lane.
Wolf Gang in the Coliseum
The mood before showtime was electric. By 6 p.m. the coliseum was packed, with the audience buzzing through aggressive barking noises and kicking off Mexican waves during downtime. The container-sized green stage prop that had been part of his earlier stops was missing, but it hardly mattered where it was replaced by two large LED screens.
The concert’s opening duties went to Los Angeles duo Paris Texas, whose mix of rap, punk, and guitar-heavy beats ignited the floor. Tracks from BOY ANONYMOUS and MID AIR gave the night an edge of chaos that mirrored Odd Future’s energy in its early years. The crowd responded with open pits and dancing, an early sign that the Manila audience came prepared.
Thirty minutes later, the lights dropped and a green glow swallowed the arena. Tyler walked onstage and immediately tore into Don’t Tap the Glass. Songs like “Big Poe” and “Sugar on My Tongue” set the raw, playful, and unfiltered tone. He pivoted to Chromakopia cuts that have already defined this new era, including “St. Chroma,” “Noid,” “Darling, I,” “Sticky,” and “Take Your Mask Off.” Each hit carried its own staging, with Tyler pouring himself into the performances. It was clear why he has called the Chromakopia album his most personal yet.
What made the set special for longtime fans was how he threaded his older work into the new. The crowd roared when the first notes of IGOR staples “Earfquake” and “I Think” rang out. Call Me If You Get Lost anthems like “Wusyaname” and “Lumberjack” carried the weight of pandemic memories, sung back in unison. Even deeper cuts from the Wolf trilogy resurfaced, a gift to anyone who has followed him since 2011. In moments like “She” and “IFHY,” the show felt like time travel. For fans who grew up with Tyler through adolescence and into adulthood, this night was less about nostalgia than about realizing how much his music grew alongside them.
All Grown Up
The energy inside Araneta made it easy to forget that this was the last stop of a tour that stretched across continents for more than half a year. Tyler, usually playful and interactive, kept his banter light. You could sense fatigue in his voice, but also a sense of relief as this signaled the end of his long tour. Manila was not just another date on the calendar; it was an exhale before heading home. Even with a shorter runtime of an hour and fifteen minutes, the show carried weight far beyond its length.
As the final notes faded, he thanked the crowd and slipped backstage. Outside the arena, waves of fans in green spilled onto the streets from Cubao Expo to the gutters of Ali Mall. The collective high was unmistakable. For the Philippines, Tyler’s debut concert planted his presence in a scene that has long absorbed his ideas through style, production, and attitude — whether it’s through local rap groups like Owfuck, 25hearts, and Go Smoke Mary, or the streetwear honchos of Nick Automatic, Don’t Blame The Kids, and Davao’s Revere. Young Filipino artists across subcultures have replicated Tyler’s refusal to play by the rules, serving as permission to create a lane of their own.
Tyler’s Manila shows proved how much of that influence has taken root here, and his arrival only made them visible.
