Wine and Cheese: Earl Sweatshirt and Noname
No duo challenges the music industry quite like rap’s pair of literary homies.
It’s your dream collab. The artists you add back-to-back to the queue. The pairing you can’t get enough of. You know they sound good together, but why? Welcome to Wine and Cheese, a series investigating the why and telling you all about it.
Written by Lauren Cook
Photo courtesy of Vortex Music Magazine and XXL
Nothing draws quite the buzz in the music industry than when two well-loved artists link up. Not only is it fun to see your faves interact, but fruitful collaborations can come from it too. Usually it comes in the form of an album or a track, but in the case of Earl Sweatshirt and Noname, it was for Noname’s Book Club, a project started by the Chicago rapper to uplift people of color and provide a safe place to learn from each other through community and readership. Earl Sweatshirt was responsible for choosing one of the Books of the Month picks for October 2019, and even participated in one of the book club meet-ups earlier this year. But on top of being friends that enjoy a good book, the two share a lot in common when looking at their music, relationship to the industry, and sociopolitical beliefs.
Since their come-ups, Earl Sweatshirt and Noname have been heralded for their virtuosic flows and intricate worldplay. Given her poetic background, Noname’s flow feels like spoken word, but is simultaneously melodic and groovy. It can also be lively and almost danceable, as seen on tracks “Blaxploitation” and “Prayer Song” from her second album, Room 25. By contrast, Earl’s flow sounds a lot more drowsy. Having already a deep and monotonous voice, his heavy use of assonance makes it sound as if each syllable is falling out of his mouth when it wants to, uninhibited by traditional beats and rhythms. Their styles of rapping are two ends of a spectrum, but equal in technical skill.
Their intricate flows only serve to add another layer to the complex subject matters they address in their music. Earl’s music has largely focused on personal matters concerning his relationships, frequent drug use, and his mental health. The tone is often grim, as Earl’s depression and general hatred of most things remains at the forefront of any song he makes. His second record, I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside is his darkest, constructed at Earl’s lowest, featuring banger after gloomy banger.
Photo courtesy of The Fader
Noname’s music takes on equally tough subjects. A lot of her lyrics focus on systemic racism and violence against black people. While her scope is more focused on society as a whole, most of her lyrics draw from her life growing up in Chicago. Both her songs “Casket Pretty” from Telefone and “Prayer Song” from Room 25 are about police brutality, but take different approaches. Noname is more personal on “Casket Pretty,” mourning those who have died at the hands of the police in her area and praying for the safety of her friends and family. “Prayer Song” takes a more narrative approach, rapping the first half of the song from the perspective of a black woman and the second half from the perspective of a cop. There are some brighter spots on Noname’s records, however. Her first record, Telefone is filled with fond memories from her childhood and bittersweet reflections. Even her second record, which is a maturation from her first, still makes room for humor to take some of the punch out of some hard-hitting truths.
Photo courtesy of Hypebeast
Throughout Noname’s and Earl Sweatshirt’s lyrics is a raw and honest telling of the black experience, whether it be through their own lives, or the experience as a whole. However, this commitment to honest black expression and truth has also led to some friction in their careers. In 2010, Earl released his first solo mixtape, Earl, on the website of the rap collective Odd Future. But as quickly as the members of Odd Futureall appeared on the rap radar, Earl disappeared. Shortly after the release of the mixtape, Earl’s mother sent him away to a boarding school in Samoa over concerns about the trouble he and his friends were getting into. Odd Future capitalized off of his disappearance by selling merch with Earl’s face on it and encouraging “Free Earl” chants at their concerts. By the time he had returned from the island in 2012, Earl had been turned into a commodified legend by his fellow Odd Future members and fans.
Photo courtesy of Noname
However, Earl expressed disapproval in the “Free Earl” campaign even before he returned. In the same breath of wanting Earl’s release, fans demonized his mother who had sent him away in the first place. The whole ordeal put immense strain on his relationship with his mother, as documented on the song “Chum” from his debut studio album, Doris. But despite his disapproval, fans continued to chant “Free Earl” at concerts, memeing Earl’s experience instead of respecting his wishes.
Additionally, Earl Sweatshirt fans are notorious for demanding music from the rapper. While it is common for many music fans to act this way towards their favorite artist and might even be seen as jest, it becomes increasingly malignant considering what Earl is actually saying in his music. In an interview with NPR, Earl describes his music as black expression coming from pain. His song “Burgundy” also briefly touches on the commodification of his pain as a way to make money.
Thus, instead of giving fans what they wanted, Earl seemingly disappeared off the face of the earth after the release of I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside in 2015. He then reemerged with his third studio album, Some Rap Songs in 2018, returning with a project that differs greatly from his previous work. The production is more simplistic — stripped down to grainy, lo-fi samples and loops. The raps are just as complex, but even more vague. On top of that, his vocals are purposely mixed under the production so that they’re harder to hear. Earl Sweatshirt knew that Some Rap Songs would be less commercially palatable — but that seemed to be the point. The album was made for himself as a reflection on his own life instead of making his pain digestible to listeners.
Although she has received heavy backlash, Noname has made a similar pivot away from trying to please every fan, sparking heated online debates. In a string of tweets, Noname expressed how drained she feels performing black art made for black people to (predominantly) white audiences who simply don’t get it and don’t care to respect her. She also argued that many other black artists feel similarly, but don’t speak out about it for fear of losing monetary support. She then announced that she would only perform two more shows before calling it quits on making music, her third and final album being Factory Baby, which is expected to come out in 2020.
The backlash came mainly from white fans, who ironically missed Noname’s point. Noname tweeted that she was done making music for “white audiences that would rather shit on [her] than challenge their liberalism,” and instead of seeking to understand why Noname felt that way, they took immediate offense, proving her point. However, given that she plans to quit music anyway, she is largely ignoring negative feedback as she refocuses her efforts to her book club.
Earl Sweatshirt and Noname’s careers have taken them for a wild ride. Their quick rise to fame and inability to put out a bad project has given them lyrical virtuoso status within the music industry. However, both sacrificed commercial success to pursue what meant most to them — putting out art that represented themselves and their experiences. Their support of each other in this way is why this pairing is one of the best.