Earl Sweatshirt Comes Out of Left Field with 'Feet of Clay'
by James Ammirato
Upon his release from his contract with Columbia Records, Earl Sweatshirt commented: “I’m excited to be free because then I can do riskier shit.” That was nearly a year ago, right after the MC’s third studio album, Some Rap Songs dropped. It’s always exciting when an artist acknowledges they’re trying to move in a more experimental direction, but this sentiment from Earl was that much more intriguing. Some Rap Songs saw him gliding confidently through uncharted waters, combining elements of South African jazz and off-kilter production to create a masterwork of nuance and detail. The idea that anything after could be “riskier,” as he says, was nothing short of baffling.
If you’re an Earl fan, you know that waiting is part of the elusive rapper’s toolbox. He’s been known to remain completely silent for months at a time, before coming out of the shadows to drop a bomb on his audience as though it were nothing. This time was no different. On October 31, Earl unexpectedly announced a new record would be dropping the next day, a 7-track project titled FEET OF CLAY. In the announcement was a tracklist with features and the cover, a painting of a sinister-looking goat in a dark jungle, a creature we could only assume was to represent the enigmatic rapper himself.
What we got was a 15-minute project full of some of the densest music that I’ve ever heard, chorus-less and bleak, described by Earl as “a collection of observations and feelings recorded during the death throes of a crumbling empire.” It’s difficult to even call it rap, when the project more closely resembles the ethos of jazz or sound collage, furthering Earl’s nosedive into his rabbit hole and digging into his newfound niche.
“74” starts the album off running, a one-verse track that finds Earl purposefully undercutting his own ability by making his voice extra groggy. It’s immediately clear he wants the untrained ear to tune his voice out so that those who can appreciate his bars have to truly listen. And if you do, you’re rewarded with lines like “Sellin’ kids culture with death, circlin’ like carrion / The more the merrier, phone got you livin’ vicarious.” It’s lines like these that show us just how much Earl has matured as a lyricist, not only in terms of the meaning behind his words, but also the flow that he pulls off so effortlessly, and his poetic abilities that grow with every release.
The beat on “EAST” is like an injured bird, fluttering over and over, never able to get off the ground. Meanwhile, Earl’s bars soar overhead, no regard whatsoever for the backbone he’s laid out for himself. “My innocence was lost in the East,” Earl croaks, referencing his time living in New York, a transformative period that totally changed Earl’s musical output due to his new friendships with MIKE, Standing on the Corner, and Mach-Hommy. The result was Some Rap Songs, a product of redefinition; I can only imagine some of these new tracks were conceived there as well.
Throughout the record we’re greeted with beautiful samples, like the quiet “pray for the people,” on “MTOMB” and the brittle piano line on “EL TORO COMBO MEAL,” the latter of which features Earl protogé Mavi, an up and coming rapper fresh off the release of his debut record, Let The Sun Talk. The track starts with a brilliant verse from Mavi, who admittedly sounds quite a bit like Earl, though this doesn’t deter from the song’s dexterity. We might as well be in a wind tunnel the whole time, as the beat is practically pure noise, the piano line faintly peeking out every once in a while. When Earl finally makes an appearance, his vocal processing is practically omniscient, a floating entity, like a voice heard through a TV plagued by static.
His friendship with rapper Mach-Hommy shines through most clearly on “4N,” the album’s closer and longest track, featuring none other than Mach-Hommy himself. Earl has spoken highly of the elusive underground rapper for the last couple years and contributed beats to his Fete de Morts EP back in 2017, which famously cost $111.11 on Bandcamp when it was released. Mach’s style is unique, blending elements of street rap with experimental production, most clearly displayed on his 2019 album with DJ Muggs, Tuez-Les Tous. For almost a minute and a half, he dawdles over the beat, with a flow cloudy enough to rival Earl’s, repeating the same four lines that rhyme so well it becomes hard to remember where they begin and end— it’s times like this we see firsthand where Earl’s most recent influences lie. When Mach finally starts his verse for real, he hits us with lines like “Too much Evanescence wake you up inside with the Wesson,” a sentiment so whimsical it’s hard to understand how it made the record, but it’s Mach’s conviction that really nails the track home. Through his seasoned cadence, his confidence is directly imparted to the listener, to the point where it doesn’t matter what he’s saying, we just want more.
FEET OF CLAY is not an easy listen. The phrase “Feet of Clay” itself is typically a phrase used to describe weakness in a character. Here, Earl is talking about his own feet of clay, his struggles with alcoholism and the overwhelming grief that came after the loss of his father, but in terms of the music, he’s as locked in as ever. The true genius behind Earl’s most recent work is his lack of desire to be famous. This newest project is so dense he can only be attempting to break down his fanbase, built up of kids that knew him from his lines on “Hive” and “Burgundy,” and rebuilding it to incorporate fans of experimental music and art rap. He doesn’t want the act of listening to his record to be easy, he wants it to be earned, a privilege for those that have the wherewithal to pay full attention. If someone told me they didn’t like it, I can’t say I’d be surprised. Earl’s evolution is truly one for the books, and it’s easy to assume he’s lost his original flame in a fruitless pursuit of experimentation. But if you’re willing to hear him out, it’s only 15 minutes.