Earl Sweatshirt

I Don't Like Shit, I Don't Go Outside (2015)

nickEp

Earl Sweatshirt doesn’t like shit. As a result, he doesn’t go outside. If you couldn't gather that from his dark, isolated lyrics, he makes sure the title is crystal clear.

Two years after his major label debut and five years removed from the verbal assault of his first mixtape, Earl Sweatshirt has found his sound on I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside. That sound, however, isn’t radio singles. It’s nowhere near pop friendly. And, unfortunately, it hardly even whispers Odd Future. I Don’t Like Shit is Earl’s way of dealing with his newfound success, and more accurately, his celebrity. As the music world pries to find out more about this recluse, he shies away, opting to avoid everyone. It couldn’t be more different than his last record, Doris, which featured assists from Tyler, the Creator, Frank Ocean and The Neptunes. He’s since pushed them all away, actively trying to avoid all other human life. With the exception of a few close friends, he tackles the whole album himself. Earl is now an army of one.

And it shows. His voice remains gloomy and ominous, but still showcases Earl’s incredible ability to manipulate words. He also produced almost the entire record under his randomblackdude moniker. When listening to the album, it’s easy to imagine Earl nestled up late at night, alone in a studio for hours on end tweaking each and every aspect.

Which is concerning. You hear the loneliness and distrust in his voice. He’s not scared, but there is a solid level of concern for his own well-being. Even more so, his mother is worried. “Tell momma get a gun if I get too popular. I'm just being honest with it. Tell her stop whining, it ain't no mo problems.” Because it’s true. To a certain extent, he's made it. But what does that mean?

If nothing else, it allows Earl Sweatshirt to release I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside. In the last few years, hip-hop has made a push to be more about personal art. This year has given us a slew of interesting, unique hip-hop albums that could never have been made even five years ago. Earl’s is by far the most introspective and the most tonally removed from popular culture. It’s both the saddest and most difficult, which, even at thirty minutes, can feel grating. But it’s also a brutally honest look into the mind of a truly gifted talent. Will he ever be praised with the likes of a Drake or a Kendrick? Probably not. But, it seems, that’s the way he prefers it.