Over the last twenty days of December (and obviously 2013), I’ll be writing about my favorite twenty albums and songs of the year, one a day. Not best. Not most influential. Not most likely to land on a Complex slideshow. Just my favorite, ranked in order.
4. earl sweatshirt – doris
There are a lot of problems with Earl Sweatshirt’s return to the music scene: he lets himself get buffeted around by Domo Genesis and Vince Staples, he’s lost the tongue-in-cheek defiance that laced Earl, his voice is locked into a singular monotone pitch. But even given his unfortunate habit to mutter and drawl the majority of his verses, Doris still provides an incredible snapshot into the life of The Internet’s Prodigal Son. Earl was brought to fame by the Internet in a way that very few other celebrities have been – and most pointedly, he missed his own rise, having not made his return from Samoa until he’d already become the subject of a massive Internet movement (Free Earl). Earl’s an immensely talented artist (really, he makes golden children like Joey Bada$$ look comparatively amateurish) that hasn’t really gotten it all together yet, and Doris is a way for us to watch as he puts it all together. He’ll let Domo walk all over him on “20 Wave Caps” and just sit back as Tyler, The Creator turns his own song (“Sasquatch”) into a Wolf leftover, and then he’ll spring a masterpiece like “Sunday” or “Chum” on us. Part of the thrill is watching as spectators, knowing that brilliance is within reach, anticipating the next flash of transcendence. Earl’s an imperfect artist, and Doris is a reflection of that state as much as it’s a reflection of his anger, despair, and rebelliousness.
4. kanye west – “new slaves (prod. lots of people)”
“New Slaves” might encapsulate Yeezus and its attitude better than anything else on the album or anything Kanye West might say. It rattles into action with a slow buzzsaw synth quickly drowned out by distorted, unintelligible layered prattling before the first lines even hit acapella. Kanye and Co. are twisting familiar choir samples into the backing for a soundscape far more aggressive and cutting than anything we’d been used to as a fanbase – and if the cold synths weren’t a good enough indication of Kanye’s newfound anger, well, the second verse probably did the trick. That is, if you can even call it a verse, as it’s a mash of repeated lines and increasingly accusatory one-liners (like the now iconic “fuck you and your corporations, y’all niggas can’t control me”). It’s unclear how much of what Kanye is saying is actually factually correct (I’m pretty sure you can read and sign contracts, Kanye), logical (up for debate whether the DEA and the CCA are actually teaming up), or justifiable (there’s a whole ‘nother discussion to be had about the hypocrisy stretched across “New Slaves”). But forget all of that for a second, and recognize that this might be the bluntest and stripped-down Kanye has ever been, especially as he descends into particular madness towards the end of the second verse. This is the song from Yeezus that’ll stand the test of time.
And we haven’t even talked about that outro. That outro.