Music Review: I Don't Like S**t, I Don't Go Outside

The Earl hype has finally died down. Earl Sweatshirt has returned from Samoa, released his debut and shaken his provocatively immature image. He’s even split ties from Tyler, the Creator and the rest of the Odd Future collective. In his latest album, I Don’t Like S**t, I Don’t Go Outside, there is not even a single utterance of “golf wang.” Gone are the niche features (think Tyler, Mac Miller, Casey Veggies) and bittersweet, overdramatic lyrics. Earl’s latest album is his humblest, yet also darkest, work to date, as he reminisces on life while showing complete indifference to both his own thoughts and his audience’s perceptions of them.

Earl Sweatshirt is a rapper from Los Angeles, who came to fame as the most proficient MC of Odd Future, a hip hop collective also based in L.A. Odd Future gained a lot of press attention a couple years ago for being really obnoxious and somewhat controversial. After the release of his critically acclaimed first mixtape, Earl, his mother actually sent him to boarding school in Samoa. Upon his return he released his debut, Doris, which, while more bittersweet and sentimental than his previous work, sounded like a welcome home party.

With I Don’t Like S**t, Earl envelops the listener in his depressing, claustrophobic mindset. Earl handles most of the production on his albums. Here, instrumentation ranges from hollow, lethargic drone to goofy synthesizer that mocks anyone who has ever felt happiness. Both aspects combine to give a feeling of slow disintegration. Throughout, Earl never seems desperate or bittersweet. He doesn’t seem to care about the gradual breakdown of his life. The mood is completely immersive and is definitely the strongest aspect of the album.

To contribute to this mood, Earl keeps his lines technically simple. Thematically they are also more grounded in reality and not based around the usual ridiculous stories and random punch lines. There’s a much more genuine connection with real life. For instance, on “Off Top” he raps, “Trying to pay my momma’s rent, figure that’s just what I owe her,” and on “Mantra” he tries to sort out and old relationship but eventually gives up. He still retains a lot of the typical Earl wordplay, though (“Fishy n****s stick to eating off of hooks”).

Overall, lyrics are centered around his maturation out of Odd Future, his relationship with his family and friends, and his struggles with substance abuse. Throughout the album, Earl drags the listener through the grime that accompanied his transition from teenager to young adult. At the very least, it’s relatable.

I Don’t Like S**t, I Don’t Go Outside feels like distilled Earl. It’s his shortest work to date, but it also feels like his most genuine. There’s no more of the extra fluff and excitement that comes with being promoted by someone as charismatic as Tyler, the Creator. After a few listens, the album’s message becomes clear: Earl does not like s**t, and he most certainly does not go outside.