Toward the beginning of his video for “Back Flippin,” Luh Tyler turns a boating trip into a brief acrobatic exhibition. His cherubic face soaks up the sun as the shirtless teen launches himself backward, his gangly arms and legs folding into a reverse somersault before he splashes into the water below. He’s 17, but he might as well be a kid at summer camp. Stereotypically speaking, teens his age are expected to be in the throes of (or exiting) their awkward phase, but his bars give the impression that he’s never had one. “I be high up in the stars, now I’m finna be one/How the fuck I got I cut you off, you run it back, that lil’ hoe D-1, ” he raps on the track.
At a svelte 33 minutes, My Vision is a tidy album that, like Tyler himself, doesn’t overextend, mostly because doing so isn’t the point. It’s a laid-back affair that focuses on his strengths and dips out before he’s got time to exhibit structural deficiencies. Laced with a mix of technical precision, colorful wordplay, and subdued charisma, it’s an exercise in ease and crystallizes the Tallahassee rapper’s status as the most exciting young rapper in Florida. It’s also a departure from the icy gangsta rap and pained trench tales that have come to dominate the region’s sound. He’s not recapping robberies like Kodak Black or venting his soul with heartfelt melodies like Rod Wave.
For the project, Tyler cruises over misty beats embedded with a retro spirit, letting loose bursts of kaleidoscopic punchlines and fly-guy boasts brimming with the humor of a smart-ass. For the project’s title track, he casually reduces paper-chasing to a simple matter of decision-making, and he mocks a catchphrase made popular by the City Girls: “Why this ho keep sayin’, ‘Period’? Bitch, this ain’t no sentence.”
“The overall impression is that of a natural.”
Meanwhile, on the BabyTron-assisted “Fat Racks, Pt. 2,” he tackles a tepid piano loop with the best Pennywise reference you’ve ever heard, matching one of the few up-and-comers who can equal his one-liners. Tyler’s delivery adds a comedic touch to his punchlines. On tracks like “Fat Racks, Pt. 2,” he employs the same end-line intonations he used for 2022’s “Law and Order,” dragging out the last syllable of each bar in a vaguely melodic way. He almost sounds like he’s startled himself. That’s about the only time he sounds surprised, though, as his whispery voice and sly condescension give the impression of a typically unimpressed teen. With tranquil piano lines and spurts of muted xylophones coated in, the production here is generally relaxed, creating a natural cohesion with Tyler’s easygoing delivery. It has the added effect of making his colorful quips stand out in the mist.
It’s a style that infuses an uncommon air of lightness in a Florida rap scene that’s been dominated by thoroughbred street rap for years. Tyler shares some nominal similarities with Wick and Trapland Pat, but his subject matter is comparatively low stakes. There are spurts of implicit gunplay, but he’s much more interested in stealing your girlfriend or maintaining a relationship with Mary Jane, the weed strain. It plays out like Mac Miller’s K.I.D.S., with Pittsburgh block parties being replaced with Tallahassee kickbacks. It’s a reprieve from grim trap tales and gleeful violence, and his mosaic punchlines call to mind artists from the blog era. It’s just packaged in the sensibilities of a kid who’s never known a world without Instagram, making it retro and modern simultaneously.
If Tyler were a more boring rapper, the low emotional urgency could get stale, but it never gets to that point on My Vision. While he’s never overly imaginative when it comes to describing his lifestyle—getting girls, smoking, bag-chasing—his flows are varied enough so things don’t get too monotonous. He can be slow and deliberate (“Moncler on My Coat”) or rapid and athletic (“Santa”). His vocals and beat selections make everything feel understated, but his bars are tightly wound and precise in both their delivery and meaning. No matter how he spits it, it’s pretty much always a lot of fun.
Having a good time feels like the whole point for a kid that hasn’t been rapping all that long. My Vision doesn’t make itself out to be more than it is; this is a soundtrack for barbecues and laidback smoke sessions, with Tyler’s scratchy vocals being a perfect accompaniment for moods that are decidedly chill. On a song level, the lone slip-up comes with “Weeks,” a colorless rags to riches tale that feels like mandatory inclusion for a project all about vibes. On the more episodic side, Tyler runs into instances of self-plagiarism; the Mary Jane lines get tiresome, and he repeats the same Lids punchline on “Back Flippin” and “Gettin’ Fishy.”
Still, the overall impression is that of a natural. With a mixture of calm, preternatural style, and dexterity, My Vision is a project that mostly belies the inexperience of its creator. There might be some growing pains, but most of the time, that means you’re still growing. My Vision has some of those, but more than anything, it makes it clear that Luh Tyler is already pretty tall.
