Earl Sweatshirt's 'Some Rap Songs' and the Trojan Horse Effect

‘Imprecise words.’ : 

The very first voice heard on Earl Sweatshirt’s 2018 album ‘Some Rap Songs’, is not his own - but is in fact taken from a 1962 recording of a speech made by novelist, playwright and activist James Baldwin. Baldwin, seeming to briefly take the form of the album’s narrator, introduces the project in its opening seconds with this ambiguous phrase. This is an intriguing moment, and immediately shrouds the entire project in a cloud of uncertainty and mystery. In just two words, Earl has done two, very subtle, but very crucial things. He has not only set the tone for the weaving of his cryptic, forlorn poetry, but he has also stated his intent for the reception of ‘Some Rap Songs’.

Everything about the presentation of SRS screams low effort and disorganisation. The fuzzy, cheap album cover; the bizarrely short track lengths (with only three songs reaching the 2 minute mark); the lack of hooks or really any traditional songwriting; the dusty, off-kilter mixing; even the very title of this piece of work; all create an image of Earl throwing a homemade CD at you from across the room with a shrug and little care for where and how it lands. 

It is not a new idea to understate the depth or complexity of music with a non-descript, seemingly lazily chosen album title. Some examples include The Beatles’ ‘White Album’, Aphex Twin’s ‘Selected Ambient Works 85-92’, or most recently Australian producer Flume’s ‘Hi, This is Flume’ mixtape. Indeed, by naming such a dense collection of art merely ‘Some Rap Songs’, Earl has gone a step further; he has branded it with what can only be described as a non-title - an apparent dismissal of any significance or great value that the album might hold. 

In doing this with virtually all aspects of the album’s presentation, Earl creates what I’d describe as a ‘Trojan Horse’ effect; artistically hiding his weaponry within an unassuming, wooden facade. The contrast between such simplistic framework and dense, potent content is a wonderful use of irony. While perhaps it cannot be said to definitively make the album's music any better, this undoubtedly will have (and has had) a profound subconscious effect on listeners and how they interpret SRS before they have even pressed play. Earl himself has shrugged off his choice of title, claiming in his recent interview with Vulture magazine that the title is merely a response to the question: ‘What is this (the album)?’. Nevertheless, I find is difficult to believe that Earl did not have the irony of this title in mind at the time of choosing it.

The air of nonchalance and disregard in SRS’ presentation is reflected somewhat by the ambiguous nature of a great deal of the album’s lyrical content. With the use of deft poetic techniques and beautiful phrasing, Earl leaves many of his lyrics open to the audience’s interpretation. It lacks the certainty and conceptuality of an album like To Pimp A Butterfly, and opts for a more abstract, stream-of-consciousness approach. This is not to say that the album is without any thematic strength. Earl’s poetry repeatedly makes reference to the concept of drowning, to his familial relationships and to his ongoing battle with depression. 

Here are a few of what I consider to be standout moments of lyrical brilliance, relating to these themes:

‘Blood in the water I was walking in my sleep

Blood on my father I forgot another dream,

I was playing with magic, hide blessings in my sleeve’ (Red Water)

‘I revisit the past, port wine and pages of pads,

Momma said don’t play with them scabs,

It’s safe to say i see the reason I’m bleeding out

I need you now, closed lips make the mouth-breathers frown.’ (Ontheway!)

‘Say goodbye to my openness, total eclipse,

From the shine that I’ve grown to miss when holding shit in,

Open my lids my eyes say my soul is amiss

The signs say we close to the end.’ (Eclipse)

‘Picking out his grave, couldn’t help but feel out of place,

Tryin’ to catch some rays, death it has a sour taste’ (Peanut)

The feeling of drowning is one that is, at least for me, reflected in many of the instrumentals of SRS. The relentless, claustrophobic loops in songs like Red Water, Nowhere2go and Peanut (a song which Earl has described as ‘that feeling when depression hugs you’) create a hissing, torturous atmosphere. The beats replicate the feeling of being trapped in a never-ending cycle of pain and suffering, the feeling of struggling against a furious tide, with scarce pockets of time within which to come up for air. 

Over time, Earl has consistently improved his ability to make his dreary vocal tones sound compellingly broken. Where earlier in his career, particularly on his debut album Doris, Earl’s hoarse and understated delivery had felt like a chink in his armour, on SRS it is arguably his greatest weapon. This is a masterclass in the use of alluring introversion. While it undoubtedly takes a great artist to draw a listener in with gargantuan charisma and charm (see: Anderson .Paak, Danny Brown), a skill which is arguably more intriguing in a musician is the ability to convert introversion into magnetism. Earl perfectly treads the line between appearing completely and utterly disinterested and dismissive of an audience, and having that same audience hang on your every word in both the presentation and content of ‘Some Rap Songs’. 

So why is it that we, as an audience, can find so much reward in being neglected as such? I believe this speaks to our nature as listeners and consumers of entertainment and art. While some have been alienated by the muddy, lo-fi aesthetic of the instrumentals, Earl’s weary, broken delivery and the album’s ‘imprecise words’,  it is those who have sought to dig deep into the album’s content and entertain Earl’s artistic vision who have found most value in SRS. This is not a record to be played in the background and enjoyed passively.

There can be a great deal of satisfaction to be gained by devoting time to deciphering art. Those who are sufficiently invested in persevering tend to get a considerable kick out of overcoming an immediately abrasive and difficult listen to discover and relish the beauty that lies beneath. This sort of reward is similar to that of putting together a puzzle, or solving a mystery. The more difficult the challenge, the greater the reward, creating a personal connection to the achievement. With music this poetic, textured, and ultimately human, once the puzzle is completed, you have - never more than the press of a button away - a work of art to accompany you through life.