For me, the personal appeal of Doris is its insignificance. Debut albums tend to be these big, grandiose affairs that are telegraphed to us by a lengthy, calculated stream of ads, lame press appearances, bombastic statements like, “This is gonna change the game” and now, commercials during the NBA finals. But Doris kind of just materialized. Of course, it wasn’t a pure emergence; I knew Doris was coming because of general hype, marketing, interviews, tweets from Earl, music videos and funny videos. Those things are expected. But despite the combined efforts of all the requisite parts of the modern hype machine, Doris was never quite defined. Leading up to Doris, all I knew was what it would not be. It knew it wouldn’t be “Rap(e) Chronicles Part Two,” a plausibly-named sequel to Earl’s old project Earl (2010), his engaging, but profoundly fucked up first outing. I also knew it wouldn’t be a trap-centric celebration of molly. So when Doris got here (August 20), it really wasn’t a big deal.
I hope i lose you as a fan if you only fuck with me cause i rapped about raping girls when i was 15.
— Earl Sweatshirt (@earlxsweat) August 12, 2012
The music follows suit, with Earl rapping almost exclusively nonchalantly. I’m sure he cares about his work – it’s way too detailed to be the product of indifference – but I never get the feeling that Earl has bought into his own hype. He knows that this – rap, hip-hop – is just a blip on a larger grid with far more important axes, so he sees no interest in convincing us to “care,” in that hollow and common sense of demanding our attention a la Kanye West. He makes music because he wants to make music and because he’s good at it. What we do with it as fans is epiphenomenal to the music being created.
I think that this is the biggest lesson that he’s taken from one of his known idols, MF DOOM. People often make the Earl-DOOM connection because of their shared penchant for internal rhymes, slanted rhymes, obscure references and “straight rappin” (rapping without choruses, bridges or refrains), but I think that Doris shows us that this connection is more than aesthetic. DOOM taught Earl that making rap music doesn’t mean catering to rap fans and their strange and often hostile whims (“There’s not enough bass, man!” ; “That’s way too much bass, man!”).
The risk of making music for the sake of music is high if you’re trying to make a career out of it: if fans are epiphenomenal to the creative process, money will be too – DOOM is definitely not going to be in Forbes anytime soon. But that’s the point: fuck Forbes and fuck fans. If you’re in Forbes, I’m probably not going to buy your album. (Earl isn’t in Forbes)