Earl Sweatshirt’s Rap Mastery — And Optimism — Is Nothing New

Last year, Earl Sweatshirt’s verse on “Words2LiveBy” went viral, as some fans were perplexed to hear him rapping on such an uptempo beat. He’s become known for rhyming in hushed tones over melancholy production, a sound that’s birthed an entire wing of like-minded indie rappers. But that’s just one part of Earl’s artistic arsenal; he’s shown an ability to get rhymes off on a variety of production. It feels like, from the beginning of his career, when fans (and journalists) wouldn’t stop violating the then-teenage artist’s privacy after he went to boarding school, too many people have perceived him as what they want him to be, instead of who he’s shown himself to be. 

The same kind of misunderstanding speckles the discourse around Live Laugh Love, his stellar new album. Many fans have made the obvious realization that his 12-track project reveals glimpses of optimism that pale in comparison to the grief and doldrums of projects like 2015’s I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside and Solace. But it’s not an abrupt 180, as each of his projects has gradually reflected his growth as a man with a deeper understanding of the world and his place in it. 

Rap fans are eager, if not encouraged, to spot patterns, branding, and shticks to better relegate artists in the vast rap landscape. It’s easy to paint Earl as someone who raps about being sad. But with each successive album, true listeners are realizing he’s just been rapping about his life — sometimes there’s sadness. It makes sense to have expectations of artists, and to bolster deeper connections with certain portions of their catalogs. That’s become the case with Earl, especially with fans who forever champion him for songs reflecting their own battles with depression and substance abuse. Sure, Earl’s darker raps might have “saved your life.” But it shouldn’t have taken a sunny album title for fans to realize that with each successive album, he’s come to find vaster meaning in his own.

It’s hard not to hear how fatherhood and his marriage to actress/artist Aida Osman have shaped his perspective on Live, Laugh Love. On “FORGE” he raps, “Permafrost pimpin’, protocol ice cold like André Benjamin/I’m playin’, bae, I’m still in love with you, let’s get in the tub,” a gentle moment that harkens to the kind of relationship pure enough for them to hold an impromptu maternity photoshoot in their backyard. Her presence might have also factored into him censoring the B-word on “Crisco,” a song where he also delves into fatherhood, rhyming, “Eight of cups, it’s time to change his stinky diapers.” According to TarotGuide.com, the eight of cups tarot card refers to “walking away from people or situations in your life or abandoning your plans.” Later in the verse, he raps about how his biological father essentially abandoned him, and reflects on his absence instilling him with anger and solitude, concluding, “God know my heart and that I’m out here tryna change the course, I’m working on it.” Earl has always rapped metaphorically about his life being akin to a physical journey to a certain destination (fulfillment? self-discovery?). Now, he has two more people to traverse it with.

In 2024, Earl talked to Rolling Stone about, “the pursuit of speaking proverbially,” aka. “trying to be succinct and pack a lot into a little because motherfuckers don’t have time to sit around while you try and figure some shit out.” While many rap fans would listen to him rhyme all day, he’s nonetheless refined his lyricism to a point where, aside from the second verse of “Live,” which is delivered a little too sleepily to resonate, every verse is potent. On “Infatuation,” he raps, “Circumstance raised a baby to a beast/Like rain and heat raise a seed into a plant.” On “Tough like rye or spelt, Orion-sized heavyweight titles on the belt, son/Flying in on the wide eye of the maelstrom, wild side that I hail from,” with a melodic cadence that drifts over Navy Blue’s hard-to-catch drum pattern. Even when he’s bragging on “Static,” it’s delivered in metaphor and layers: “Unique offers, tell the giant I need like three from this most recent bean harvest/Geeked off it, stockpiling drip, I’m puttin’ shit on like Steve Harvey.” On “Gamma (need the 3),” he gets existential while weaving in references to Roy Ayers, the late Trugoy of De La Soul, and the movie Funny Games. It’s a testament to an MC’s craft when he can weave wordplay in a way that furthers the overall messaging of a song, and Earl does it with deft throughout LLL. 

The 24-minute project is a breezy listen where several producers offer Earl disparate sonic approaches that allow him to explore a variety of flows. “CRISCO” shows Navy Blue dipping vocal samples into otherworldly filtering, while “gsw vs sac” is a warped, funky sample laced by producer Theravada. The latter also produced “Infatuation,” which boasts a warm soul sample.  

We’ve seen so many artists at the peak of their artistry (or riches) create superfluous, feature-ridden “event albums” to insist on their superiority. But Earl shows a different kind of rap excellence on his latest album, proposing that sometimes, rap superiority can just be about a strong pen and the power of language. Breakthroughs and life lessons can be as resonant as anthemic hooks and slogans. And it can all be happening over tailormade beats indifferent about mass appeal. Live, Love, Laugh is the kind of rap mastery that shuns maximalism for pristine, unadorned poetics.