Eminem released The Slim Shady LP with more than the intent to sell a hit record: he wanted to create an entirely new persona. The Eminem who released 1996’s Infinite failed to capture his raw intensity and favored mild lyrical themes. Thus, Slim Shady: a capricious being prone to violence through which Marshall Mathers lived vicariously. And after the first utterance of “Hi, my name is…” over the airwaves, Eminem was forever Slim Shady.
Thebe Kgositsile’s story parallels Mathers’s. On July 27, 2010, 16-year-old Kgositsile released a music video in which he and others ingest a concoction of painkillers and liquor, consequently spewing blood from multiple orifices; all the while he raps about decomposing corpses and raping women. The video instantly became a viral success, leading to critical praise for the artist’s unique rapping ability and self-titled mixtape. This is when Thebe Kgositsile became Earl Sweatshirt.
Earl never recorded a hit single, a platinum record, or anything resembling the aftermath of Eminem’s career shift. What followed (the Samoan correctional facility and the “Free Earl” campaign) nearly ruined his family and career. In a prodigal son-esque return to music, however, Earl displayed his resilience in the face of hardship and began rebuilding a shattered dream.
Doris, his major label debut, astutely captures the sentiments of a troubled teen attempting to rediscover a lost identity. Its stark intensity exposes the man who bears Earl Sweatshirt’s mask, a careful meditation on the life of Thebe Kgositsile. He evaluates a relationship with an absent father while struggling to comprehend what being a celebrity means. While off-key synthesizers scream over booming bass textures, one comes to a realization that Earl and Thebe constantly vie for supremacy over the teenager’s unstable mind.
Yet, Doris is as much an example of supreme lyricism as it is a self-portrayal. Earl bumbles over consonant-laden rhymes similar to legendary predecessors MF Doom and Ghostface Killah, but his brash style doesn’t negate his creativity or his wit. His lengthy analogies and frequent alliterations make his verses seem onomatopoetic. “New patterns patty-caking with mannequins” (“20 Wave Caps”), “moral Orenthal with a pretty bitch in a Bronco” (“Sasquatch”), and “admitting the shit spitted just burned like six furnaces” (“Hive”) all demonstrate the teenager’s unique lyrical skill set.
“I’m fuckin’ famous in case you forgot,” Earl idly states on “Sunday,” as if he somehow forgot his current status. He may never reach Slim’s level of success, but does that even matter? The rap prodigy now begins a transition to adulthood in hopes of rectifying the person encapsulated within Doris.
Doris