Or Earl Sweatshirt and MIKE Hijack Black Subjectivity
When I was fifteen-years old, I was turning That Corner. By forces beyond me, I was informed that it was here I was standing—on that canonical intersection which would ultimately decide the question which haunts every Black boy hitherto: Will he live, or will he die?
And by forces beyond me, I was saved. That is the only way Black boys can hope to leave the Corner with hope for a future, after all. If not for some salvation divine, they end up yet another image in a long, long lineage of Black male visual death. Visual death meaning: dead or in jail, wherein you are no longer, visually, in or of this world. Ringing, forever.
Either way, at some point between the ages of fourteen through sixteen, you learn, through your father, his brothers, his friends, that you are the closest—probability-wise—you’ve ever been, and, theoretically, ever will be, to becoming a monster. Heavy shit.
I was saved, in some part, of course, by my support system. But the power of art in providing me alternative visions of what realities were possible cannot go understated.
It was at fifteen—grounded and in the throes of alienation—that I’d join a digital, but strangely ethereal, community of anon music-lovers hobnobbing around the latest going-ons and stylings of an unofficial collective connected loosely by an invisible string of swag, Culture, social consciousness, and bars. Their web spanned a wide variety of personalities, cities, and independent rap labels—10k Global, Tan Cressida Records, and Backwoodz Studioz were/are central. And we kept up, my anons and me.
We thumbed album credits, and began to track the works of producers and DJs like THERAVADA, TAKA, and Black Noi$e. To keep up with the lyricism and messaging of certain songs, Black leftist literature, like Black Marxism or Golden Gulag, suddenly became interesting. When Billy Woods made reference to them in his 2022 Aethiopes, we watched Kongi’s Harvest, and surveyed the biography of Mengistu Haile Mariam. And I stumbled over when, after perusing through the biographies of rappers Earl Sweatshirt and MIKE, I was knocked over by the facts of their early life. They too, like me, grew up Black boys—meaning they, too, had to face turning their own Corners.
Both figuratively and literally—they’re the heads of Tan Cressida and 10k Global, respectively—Earl and MIKE always stood out as leaders of the pack. Outside of official rank, they practically pioneered both the sound and swag of their scene. It was Earl, with seminal group Odd Future, who helped to set the example for what the next generation of hip-hop could even look like and sound like. And it was MIKE, building off the work of Sweatshirt, with the collective Slums, who laid down the foundations for a sound that still defines a large subsection of the underground. When, in our conversation, the two refer to each other as “secret leaders,” the title feels more than apt.
For me, they served as de facto Black subjectivity pushers. Key to the crises of the Corner is a straddling between a perceived binary of Black masculinity. That is, on one hand, the image of your father, his brothers, and his friends, and, on the other, the opposite extreme. The lunch table anime niggas, the nerd niggas, the “lame” niggas, the ones who could not fit into the image of the Other. Some were eventually able to find their way somewhere along the spectrum—late middle-school and high school gave way to the stoner archetype, for example—but I struggled in finding my place. Searching for a reconciliation between the two possibilities for Black male being proved taxing on me—emotionally, physically, and spiritually. I appeared doomed.
But engaging with Earl Sweatshirt and MIKE’s work was one of the first times I remember having seen anyone, with true swag and flair, straddle the two poles. Whereas, in the past, it seemed as though the two poles resented each other, Sweatshirt and MIKE bought them into the blissful balance I had been searching for. And looked and sounded cool while doing it.
We speak at once, for example, about Katt Williams and Detroiters. Dave Chappelle’s Block Party and the films of Ari Aster. The craft of rapping and X-Men. None of this is to say that they’re the first to have the tastes and interests they do—now that I’m a bit older, I realize that this blend is actually key to hip-hop history; see the Wu Tang Clan, for example—but the specific way they embrace them was my first time, as a Black boy in 2022, that I had encountered that possibility. The nonchalance and effortlessness with which they absorb the things they find cool is as if to say, “This can all be Black.” When Sweatshirt and MIKE’s gaze fixes on an object, it’s immediately steeped in the full cultural richness of Blackness. Tim Robinson is afforded the same reverence my uncle may afford to Mike Epps, and Mike Epps is afforded the same reverence my friend may afford to Tim Robinson.
This is a part of how they responded to their own Corners—at sixteen, Sweatshirt was sent away to a retreat school for at-risk boys in Samoa, his mother sensing the point he was at in his journey. And MIKE started rapping, in the first place, as a way to express the rage that filled him as a fourteen-year old boy growing up Black. In many ways, they learned to expand past the conventional possibilities for Black male subjectivity because they had to. And through them learning how to survive their own Corners, I survived my own.
It’s this mode—one of casual exploding of Black subjectivity and cultural conventions—that I, delightfully, find the two in, when they speak with me for Lil’ Mama. Over the course of our conversation, we contemplate Black utopias and white extinction, the bars of Kirk Franklin, forging a life and career as an artist, and, of course, among many other things, Black comedy and culture.
This interview has been edited and condensed for length and clarity.
Destruction and rebirth seem to be a large theme on this new project. The image of Pompeii, paired with the word “utility”, continues a through-line in both of yours’ works. That is, seeing clearly and vividly the realities of a capitalist, post-colonialist, colonialist, fascist, white supremacist, racist, cooked ass, fried ass society. But then understanding that because we face this reality, there is equally an urgent, strong, and vivid need for imagination, hope, growth, etc. In honor of Black Future Month ending recently, what are y’all’s most utopian, idealist, romantic visions of a Black Utopia?
MIKE: Um, Black Utopia? Alright, hear me out. Even if this sound corny, y’all just hear me out. We definitely gonna have a woman leader, off-rip. We gonna change the art style. No more abstract art. Like, abstract art is gonna be out the window. No more like… you know when niggas be like, “This is just an expression…” I don’t know how to explain it. Niggas be like, “I just expressed this.” Like, nah.
Earl Sweatshirt: We detonating the Rothko chapel.
M: I’m not gonna lie. Mad shit getting blown up and redesigned on some Japan shit. ‘Cause that’s the only way that this shit could go forward. We need to lowkey break down the empire.
E.S.: The idea of responsibility to my race is frying my ability…Because the things that are in my head sound like a five-year old. I thought about a Brontosaurus right now, nigga.
M: It’s gonna be too personalized. That’s why they say the Black man, like, we don’t got it low-key…
E.S.: Bro, I was about to say some super, like, even-keeled African ass shit…
M: …Niggas like: "All the women: bikinis. Bikinis only.”
E.S.: I was about to say some shit about, like, living? What the fuck? Bro, you know that picture that be saying, “This how 454 music sound.” With the dolphins and shit? Maybe that?
Unfettered by any perceived duties to the Black race, what’s your personal utopia?
E.S.: For me?
Yeah.
E.S.: For me, Thebe? This doesn’t impose on anyone’s real reality?
Yeah.
E.S.: This is just mine? This is not for my people?
Don’t worry about your people. Be selfish with it.
E.S.: I’m on a farm with it. So much Za. So much fruits and veggies.
M: It’s, like, a part of the government for there to be unlimited Za.
E.S.: Unlimited. Like, it has to be. It’s not like you’re gonna die if you don’t produce it but it’s like, bruh, you gotta have some Za.
M: Yeah, there’s like government Za treasury type shit. You can spend your Za or you can smoke it, low-key.
E.S.: It’s whatever you wanna do. Maybe, like, a perfect technological and natural balance. You know what I mean? Like a good usage of tech to make life easier, where it can be.
M: Yeah, some Wakanda shit.
E.S.: You know what I mean? Healthy wife, healthy babies.
Are you getting rid of anybody? Do white people exist in your utopia?
E.S.: I wasn’t even thinking about they ass. But I wasn’t even thinking about that many people anyways. That’s what I’m saying.
M: Oooh, my boy hitting the Thanos.
E.S.: Bro, I’m telling you. I’m on that farm. I don’t even know what’s going on. Maybe there’s a brontosaurus. Bruh, I don’t know. White people just wouldn’t be so needy.
M: Yeah.
E.S.: Maybe they would be there. And they could like come and go and shit. And trade. And fucking do whatever. But just not so crazily, bro. Maybe you make, like, the climate in Central Asia and, like, the U.K. better.
M: The thing is: if you take away white people do some of the homies still exist? Like, even, the mixed homies low-key.
E.S.: Is it like what happens when you kill all the mosquitoes? Like, does it tear apart an ecosystem? You know what they be saying? Niggas be like, “Yo, why haven’t we just eliminated all the mosquitoes?” ‘Cause then, you know, frogs can’t eat.
M: The world is over.
E.S.: The world is over.
M: I’m crying.
E.S.: I mean you just gotta be like, “Stop it, mosquitoes!”
M: Just trap one of them shits.
E.S.: Yeah. Yo! We gotta get a citronella candle.
M: I’m fucking dead. It’s a big ass one. Like that shit is just burning in the middle of the land.
What’s been making y’all laugh recently?
E.S.: The new Katt Williams is really good. Like, he became immediately self aware of what he did his last press run with the Shay Shay shit. And he’s kind of making fun of himself being the secret keeper. So it’s, like, a less scary vibe than the last… Like the last Katt Williams press run was pre-freakoff. It was pre-the Diddy trial.
M: Yeah, he was one of the first to really put that out there. He wanted that shit out, low-key.
Yeah, it was getting scary. I think the last special was just, like, mad conspiracy theories?
E.S.: Bro, it was called Woke Foke. And he had the chain where it said “woke” across the middle, and the “foke”. With the KE. And I still don’t know what the hell that mean, bro.
I’ve rewatched Detroiters a lot. The episode with Key? From Key and Peele? That shit has literally one of the funniest comedic performances of the past ten years… I keep watching Southside, too.
M: I’m really super on some Instagram Reels shit. It’s this dude from London named @demztvofficial. And he always do these pranks where he scare, like, older African people. There’s one where they pull up to a hair salon. One of the dudes come first and he’s like, “Yo, I’m tryna get braids.” And then the other dude come up to his homie and he’s like, “Yo, you keep talking to my girl. I already told you about that.” And then he pulls out some red shit. And then he’s like, “Look, look, look.” And then he’s like, “Sleep.” And bro just falls on the floor. And all the aunties start tweaking the fuck out. That shit, I’m not gonna lie, is, like, the funniest shit to me. Like, scaring African people with fake witchcraft.
E.S.: Bro, some of them niggas be defeating that nigga, though. Like, there’s some niggas that he runs up on that’s been waiting. It might seem like a sidebar, but, times, I feel like, are so crazy, that comedy as an institution, at least the way that I knew it growing up with, like, all the movies and shit… Like comedy movies kind of suck and don’t exist now. I feel like comedy is in, like, horror movies now. Were we talking about this the other day?
M: Maybe.
E.S.: Like how horror movies, just by nature, are, like, campy and bad. Just as an institution. And how it’s kind of set the stage for it to flourish now. Because it’s existed as, like, a cult thing. That you appreciate kind of to the side. But now I feel like the horror movies are, like, comedies. Like, all the really good ones.
M: Yeah. ‘Cause I feel like they know that people fuck with the corniness of it so they’re like alright…
E.S.: So it’s like self-aware. Like all of the Ari Aster movies are low-key comedies. Fucking Weapons…like that director, I feel like all of those movies are comedy. Like fucking Barbarian and shit.
What’s y'all's relationship to funny stuff? As musicians working in a different craft and industry, how separable or inseparable do you feel the two art-forms are, music and comedy?
E.S.: Nah, bro, come on. You seen Block Party? Bro that shit is motherfucking like this. The best of both things are good at the other thing, and it’s low-key sometimes super cringy. You gotta show restraint and not fully do the other thing.
M: Yeah, I feel like, even in general, just, like, in life, but I guess we are talking about this connection with music. But, like, with the homies, like, I feel like even they know that, like, my favorite thing to do low-key is like…
E.S.: Is laugh?
M: Yeah. (laughs)
E.S.: Bro, this nigga MIKE literally just laughs.
M: Honestly, like, the energy, or whatever the happiness is you get from that shit, I think is expressed in music where, like, niggas could talk about, like, deep shit, but then niggas could also be weak at it because it’s like, you know where niggas is coming at it from. And those be the best bars. When you can hear, “This is a silly ass nigga, bro.”
E.S.: I think they’re both things that are based on timing. Like overly. So that’s why the people that are really good at either one, are gonna be good at the other thing.
M: Yeah, and I feel like it’s the juxtaposition I love. Bro, I’m a big fan of Thebe—hearing a silly nigga be serious. I think that even the homies who fuck with my music, fuck with that a lot, too. Like, hearing someone you usually be with, and it be silly as fuck, be serious in music. Then it’s a little bit funny, because you know that this person is like… it just creates a world of character.
E.S.: Yeah, I feel like it also lets niggas know who they’re really dealing with. Like the last Deon Cole full-length special he dropped, he, like, flawlessly just gets through an hour of traditionally Deon Cole material, and then he, like, literally, you can see it, like the control he has of his face. Like, the performance ends and he’s like, “Yo, yall, serious note. My fucking mom just died.” Then, like, you can see, like, who he is. And I think that’s the thing that MIKE is talking about.
When you see that someone’s in that much control of themselves. Like, making the decision to be funny, or make people laugh while they could be going through whatever. I think those people are like…low-key scary.
That reminds me of the special Richard Pryor put out right after he set himself on fire.
E.S.: You remember the last joke? It was like, “Y’all ain’t shit. I seen what y’all was saying.” Then he pulled out some matches, and he strikes one. And he’s like, “Yall said, ‘Look, it’s Richard Pryor running down the street.’”
What did you grow up finding funny? Where would you say you learned how to be funny?
E.S.: Well, everyone in my family is funny. I actually realized that. Like my mom and my pops were super on that. And then my mom really put me on to stand-up dumb early… it’s been super important. That’s, like, mainly why I fucked with school. I’d have an audience to get these jokes off. And then I was African too, bro, in the late 90s. Going to elementary school and shit. Niggas was frying my fucking life. I had to get funny.
M: I’d say a lot of my humor comes from family as well. My dad is very prank-based. Like, he’s like, “Let’s fuck around, everybody,” so I’m that type. Like my favorite type of joke is just, like, a random lie, low-key. And then just see if niggas believe me. And then I be like, “Nah, I’m just playing.”
Who are some of y’all’s favorite funny people? Earl, I know you’re a big Mike Epps fan.
E.S.: Oh, for sure. For sure. Everyone that knows anything knows that Mike Epps is just funny. Like it’s not even…you don’t have to intellectualize it. The nigga is like, literally one of the funniest niggas ever. That nigga, for sure. Him and, like, Chappelle for sure, growing up. Niggas for sure taught me how to, like, talk. I think that little kid @naznotfunny is funny. Have you seen that kid?
M: He’s hilarious, yeah.
E.S.: That nigga is really funny.
M: That’s the Senegalese kid. He’s funny as shit.
E.S.: He’s like really actually funny, like not just some internet…
M: Yeah. Bruh, I feel like I really grew up in the age of Twitter comedians and, like, Instagram comedians.
E.S.: Bro, I live with a really funny person [Aida Osman]. It’s not for the faint of heart, I’m not gonna lie to you, bruh. This shit is like highest stake hijinks all day. I actually had to learn how to keep up with a super unserious person.
MIKE, who are some of your favorite Twitter comedians? Like UnkleDell and that ilk?
E.S.: UnkleDell is funny.
M: I’m not gonna lie… my shit is a little bit more niche. I’m not gonna lie. I got some niche pulls. The one homie, who also rap, the homie Ant from Detroit…
E.S.: I was about to say, nigga! I was about to say the same shit! Ay, that nigga is not a comedian. That nigga is unwell!
M: Yo, I’m telling you, some of the shit he be saying I be like bro…
E.S.: Nah, bro, you telling a nigga to just look at the crazy homie’s diary, bro, it’s not even…
M: …But he gotta know that he’s saying shit that niggas have never, ever in life said before, like…
E.S.: Here, lemme…lemme pull ‘cuz a couple. Because it’s every day, too. It’s every day.
M: That nigga is actually hilarious.
E.S.: “Grampa dont kno how To work amazon fr. Neva have". “I need To Take a Trip somewhere but I Got like 5 ppl To shoot in 6 states”. “You Cant Tell me I Cant Get new enamel nigga THUG LIFE. “I aint been on a pill all month yal irritating me”.
M: The shit that be killing me is who is he talking to? Who is his intended audience?
E.S.: Bro, he’s literally…I can’t explain this. He’s somehow, like, if the spirit of a rich housewife inhabited the body of a gangbanger.
M: I’m fucking crying.
E.S.: He’s so… he’s like fancy. Bro, this nigga said, “I left The whole pot of pasta out Im so emotional Cuz WHY CANT NOTHING GO MY WAY! OH!!!”
M: Yeah, he’s goated, bro. I’m not gonna lie.
He’s a rapper too?
M: Yeah, and he be rapping his ass off. Like, that shit crazy.
E.S.: Obviously. One of the best rappers… ever. That nigga said, “You can keep the change, don’t tip on me/ I get to acting strange like Memphis Bleek.”
Who are y’all listening to right now?
E.S.: That’s one of the guys right there.
M: Yeah.
E.S.: The homie Rockitneedspace. Cletus Strap. I was listening to Cavalier and Quelle Chris a bunch yesterday. That new shit they dropped with Navy Blue is so good. Bro, you been listening to HappyDranker?
M: He’s tough. I fuck with him. I heard the shit he got with—
E.S.: With EvilGiane?
M: Yeah, that shit is tough. That shit is hard. Sideshow just dropped his shit, I been bumping that.
E.S.: Oh, yes. Sideshow’s shit. Bro just dropped a four-disk album, nigga.
M: It be funny, ‘cause the homies dropping so much music that majority of the time, low-key, I just end up listening to all the homies’ shit.
E.S.: Literally.
M: It be feeling like I’m so plugged in, but that shit literally be all I listen to, low-key.
E.S.: Literally. And I feel like there’s so much range. There’s so many people, and there’s so much range in them. And then you go around, too, and motherfuckers listening to the same shit.
M: Nah, literally. It’s too much music within the group.
E.S.: I’ve been listening to mad mid-tempo… like ‘90s South African house music slowed down.
M: Hard.
I was going to ask how do y’all find new artists or stay tapped in, but I guess it’s because you’re kind of all in community with each other?
E.S.: Yeah, everybody just be playing shit for each other, I ain’t gon’ lie.
M: Yeah, and then sometimes live shows. Like the other day—I been fucking with mark william lewis—but I tapped in with dexter in the newsagent, like sick artists from London and shit… but there’s just always these intertwined things going on…
E.S.: Yeah, like, we’re definitely not isolated at all. It’s, like, huge, huge community.
Both of you, in your careers, seem very committed to building spaces outside of the industry dedicated to a healthier creative ecosystem and ethic. I’m thinking about 10k, I’m thinking about Tan Cressida. How do y’all go about dealing with trying to strike that balance, of living a life dedicated to the arts, and good morals, and also, but also reckoning with a life and occupation seemingly so dependent sometimes on industry and capital?
M: I feel like, at least, for me, I always think it starts with sacrifice. And knowing that with sacrifice comes lessons. Like, when I think about all the sacrifices that I’ve done, or that all the homies have done, it always is, like, giving back. I think that’s, like, the reputation for everybody. Just like, “What are you sacrificing?” I just always go back to sacrifice. I might go on tour. It really, like, money-wise, might make sense for there to only be, like, two hotel rooms. But then, I’m, like, yo, there’s a homie there that besides the music shit, we just need to be there based off the energy and group morale of everything. So, it’s like, even though we might not see as much bread back, fuck it, let’s get the extra room just because what will come out of this will be way more than whatever amount of money we paid for the extra room.
E.S.: I agree 100%. Because what came to mind when you asked the question is that it’s not for the faint of heart. And I think that MIKE just filled out exactly why. Because of the sacrifices that it takes. I think the era that we in now, people hear that and get real scared. And it’s really not that. It’s just simpler shit. I think it’s really, like, time and space. Greatly. And then, like bro said, when you do it with faith, when you sacrifice…when you sacrifice your time to this thing, to your craft, like, it can only come back to you. I be thinking about that shit with, like, weed, bro. Like, if you made weed a part of your body’s ecosystem and your brain’s ecosystem… I was thinking about times when niggas didn’t have…you know what I mean?
M: Bro. Come on, bro.
E.S.: When niggas didn’t have money to, like, maybe eat? You know what I mean? Or you’re like, damn, let me piece up on this weed, put our head in a space, and then maybe… with faith, though! With faith that this is gonna goddamn…
M: Do some shit! No cap, bro.
E.S.: And then you might record something. You know what I mean?
M: That shit is true, bro. It’s even so tribal that like… niggas looking for tobacco, niggas looking for the pack. Like, we all got these different pieces of whatever. And so we got to lock in right now, and, like, share this between us. Which is the thing of sacrifice… immediate sacrifice. Like, I’m about to sacrifice my own tobacco that I could go smoke a cigarette with, but I’m like, nah, I’ma bring this to the spliff. And now we about to all put our shit together and create a machine that we could all low-key participate in. I think it’s a great analogy for what we got going on.
E.S.: But then the other side, too, of what we got going on is… I feel like sacrifice means essentially just letting go. Of like whatever it is. You might sacrifice your space so that someone can have space within it, but sometimes you might have to take up that space for yourself. It’s a yin-yang situation. You created the space for people that can handle this shit. That’s deciding on their own volition that they can handle this shit and that they want it. ‘Cause it’s just not for the faint of heart. Like, depending on what you want… people gotta be honest about the fact that niggas want attention, bruh. Niggas wanna be seen. Niggas wanna be heard. And then they want that so bad, and then it comes, and then they’re like, really stressed out. ‘Cause that’s coming back to them, and people are like, “Yo, I see you.” And you’re like, “What the fuck? I didn’t see you.” You might get mad at God for giving you what you fucking asked for.
M: Yeah, it’s true. I feel like after you go through that shit, then you realize that the form of sacrifice is very personal. It’s almost like not littering. Like, we shouldn’t litter because not only would it make the world a bad place for us, but it would make the world a bad place for everybody else. The reason why I’m not littering—and I do litter every now and then because I’m not the perfect human, but. The reason why I wouldn’t do it is because I wouldn’t want the people that I love to be in a fucked-up world, you know what I mean? And I feel like once you realize that, like, the responsibility moreso than putting yourself on, is to teach everybody to put themselves on…people have to realize that for themselves. You have to ask for things and, like, see if that’s what you really want.
E.S.: I would say the other thing, too, is, we’re a type of person. Like, I feel like with the Internet, it’s widening the potentialities in people’s minds for like, what they can get into. Which may be true, but there are certain things that I think predispose you to different types of careers and calling and shit that you’re into and shit.
M: I feel like you just gotta pour back into the good things. Even when it feels a little bit corny. Like, if you know it was good, pour back into it for the better of the world… I feel like that’s sometimes how I be looking at it. I was talking to the homie about this the other da. I still am the hugest fan of Thebe’s music—my brother. But, like, being a young kid who was like, “I don’t even know if I’m really fully dedicated to music and the idea that this could really work.” And realizing that, like as soon as I decided to truly like rap music, or as soon as I decided to like Thebe’s music, I already kind of put myself as a part of, like, this world. Which is why I be trying to tell people, you don’t have to be a rapper. You don’t have to be a producer. Like, the ecosystem is so huge. There’s so many different roles and shit for you to do. I think I was talking to my girl about this. I was like, bro, there’s so many different layers of New York City that we’re not exposed to because this isn’t the, like, lineage that we’re from, you know what I mean?
Like, if we was from a different lineage of different things then maybe we’d be in the building across the street. There’s a reason why we see things how see them. Why there’s this particular kind of person that comes to a certain type of show, or a particular kind of person that does this and does that. Once you take yourself out of the equation, and you’re able to look at the full thing on its own, you can really just have a deeper understanding and deeper appreciation that, like… the system that’s gonna work is gonna happen regardless, whether you’re a part of it or not. So, like, why not just try and make this thing, like, a better place? Me and Thebe knew each other for a second, but when we went on tour together, that shit really put me on, low-key, on like how to be… it’s like you a secret leader. The reason why you're a secret leader is ‘cause you tryna show everybody else that, like, you’re leading your own ship and, like, we could all lead our ships in the same direction.
E.S.: That’s the whole thing, bro. It’s, like, I have no desire to be at the head of anything. Like, how much shit is, like, it goes to the council? It’s a roundtable situation. But, bro, that tour, too. That’s when I feel like the culture of not being weird really got… Of like, “Hey, we’re super-fans of each other’s music.” Like, we enjoy spending time with each other, which is just super-duper not the case with touring outside of this ecosystem right here.
M: Literally. It made me realize, bro, that we’re gonna be seeing each other for so long. Like, you can’t have pseudo-relationships with people, because you are a part of this lineage. You can’t pretend like you’re not, you know what I mean? So get ready to be with these people, low-key, for a long time. Because, like…
E.S.: Like this is it! This is your kids’ uncles and shit.
Art does have that kind of transportive energy. Where it’s like if you put this vibration out into the universe, whoever’s on the same vibration is going to find you eventually.
M: Yeah.
E.S.: 100%, it’s a radio transmission.
That’s why I fuck with all the disses y’all be doing towards LinkedIn. Because artists don’t respond to networking. They respond to other art.
M: Yeah, that’s true. That’s true.
E.S.: Word. Yo, you’re so right, bro. Like you’re never at a thing like, “Oh!” Like, a thing that was built for artists mingling, you’re never at a thing like that, like, “Yo, super glad we met. Let’s fucking link up.”
What are the most important things you feel it is for a rapper to have, on a craft level?
E.S.: You gotta have swag, bro. You gotta have a lotta swag, bro. It’s hip-hop, remember that. If the hop ain’t hip, what the fuck is that?
M: (laughs) It’s just a hop.
E.S.: It’s just a hop. Niggas just jumping.
M: I think the craft to know how to rap. Just don’t be bullshitting. That’s the main thing. Just don’t be bullshitting.
E.S.: And you gotta do stuff in real life. You can’t do stuff so that you rap. You gotta be somebody that do stuff, and then that gotta lead you to be like, “Yo, what the fuck? I need to tell people about this.”
M: Yeah, that’s the main shit, I’m not gonna lie. And then I feel like the skill come later. You just gotta be like.. that person, low-key … You low-key gotta go against the grain. Like, your family gotta be low-key against you for a little sec. It gotta be that typa shit that really drive you to rap.
E.S.: On God. You gotta be like, damn. I’m the black sheep. It’s like the X-Men!
You gotta be chosen.
E.S.: And then Professor Xaiver niggas be like, “Yo, come on.”
M: (laughs) Yo, for real! Niggas save you from yo’ situation.
This is the rapid-fire round. You can only answer in three sentences or less. Earl, you have a lyric that reads, “Too black for the white kids, and too white for the blacks”. What feelings come up, for you, when you think about that contribution to the zeitgeist?
E.S.: Uhh. I know what I was trying to say. It was corny. I feel a little bit embarrassed. But I fuck with ‘cuz. Like, I feel you, little nigga.
MIKE, you used to listen to King Krule in pre-gentrification Bushwick. Did you ever relate to the lyric, “Too black for the white kids, and too white for the blacks”?
M: Yo, we was all young. He was young when he said it. I was young when I heard it.
E.S.: Bro, if you was older, you would’ve been feeling the fuck out of that shit. If you was born earlier, bro, I’m telling you. You would’ve been like, “This is my nigga right here.”
What are y’all’s thoughts on white fans?
M: Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.
E.S.: Salute, man. We all out here. Trying to figure it out. Word to.
In 2024, Kamala Harris did something unprecedented in having rappers performing at her campaign events. Living or dead, what president’s campaign trail, if you had to, would you perform on?
M: Okay, it’s about to sound crazy at first. I would perform at Ronald Reagan shit, and then during my performance, expose the war on drugs.
E.S.: In-depth. PowerPoint presentation. Get the laser pointer.
M: (laughs) I’ma be like, “Alright, yall. This our last song, but I just got one more thing to say.”
That’s probably the best answer you could give.
E.S.: Nah, yeah. He fucking went crazy with that shit. Let’s see. There’s a nigga with a name on him. Uh, Rutherford B. Hayes.
Just off the strength of—
E.S.: Just off the name.
Got you.
E.S.: I’ll hop in the time machine, and I’ll just load that up with everything that I would need. To, like, make such a fucking entrance. You know what I’m saying? Like, I’m touching back in that bitch trippin’, on everything. I’m bringing out all types of tech, all types of Za, all types of sticks.
M: I’m crying. USB with, like, the craziest music on it?
E.S.: Ever, ever. I’m bringing out mixers, bro. And a sound system, bro. We taking over, period. Period. I’m finna link up with my great-great grandpa and them. And hopefully the genes don’t get weird because of the time thing.
M: Bro, that would be the scariest shit if that happened right now. Like, a nigga came from the future and just was off-rip calling the shots.
E.S.: ‘Cause if he hop out with new tech, what you gonna do, man? That nigga’s up. As far as you’re concerned, it’s witchcraft. You can’t fuck with him.
RATE THESE BARS -
Earl Sweatshirt, 5/10:
That nigga said, “Ripping on any beat/ that’s an adaption.” And I don’t think that I like that at all. Off the way that that bar made me feel inside of myself, I was gonna give it a zero. But then I thought about the effort.
MIKE, 7.5 /10:
If that came from the right person, niggas would’ve said that was bars, bro. I just think that Charlemagne ruined his life. Like the timing of a nigga trying that hard to rap, and then saying, “That ain’t it.” There’s no beating that.
E.S.: Yeah, it’s like, “This nigga eating beans.”
Earl Sweatshirt, 10/10:
tk Yeah, so that’s a ten out of ten, brother. What’s my nigga name? Jitus? Goat. The other one? Inhalin’ it?
MIKE, 10/10:
I actually fuck with this nigga. He got a ten from me.
Earl Sweatshirt, 10/10:
Yeah, that’s ten. He on that cliff, fool. He out there. He all the way out there. I feel like that went everywhere. He got off.
MIKE, 10/10:
I’m not gonna lie, I gotta give my guy a ten. That was good. That was crazy. That was real good, low-key. That shit low-key touched me. You know when niggas be like, “I needed to hear that”?
MIKE, ?/10:
I low-key don’t got no rating for this jawn right here. Bro behind him is fucking killing me. You ever see the shit where it be hella old niggas singing together? I feel like that’s definitely where they at right now. It’s a Puerto Rican flag in the back covering the window.
Earl Sweatshirt, ?/10:
I don’t know if that’s full bars. That might be a different medium.
Life Advice from Earl Sweatshirt and MIKE:
“Take care of each other.” - Earl
“Have fun. Laugh as much as possible. Make sure it’s real laughter. Don’t laugh when you’re uncomfortable. But laugh when you get the opportunity to.” - MIKE
Such an amazing interview. Your opening/intro is brilliant writing. 🥹❤️
very cool!