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This past summer, Kelefa Sanneh proposed that he write about Earl Sweatshirt, a preternaturally talented sixteen-year-old rapper. Nine months later, Sanneh has produced an epic eight-thousand-word story that should be read in full. It’s not available free online, but you can get it in the print magazine, in the digital edition, or on an iPad.
Earl is part of an eleven-person Los Angeles hip-hop collective called Odd Future, or O.F. Sanneh first noticed O.F. when they produced a music video in which Earl’s rhymes are both menacing and flabbergasting:
The video had gone viral and, adding intrigue, Earl had somehow gone missing soon after its release. But Sanneh had lots of other things to do, and we put the idea on hold. This winter, however, Earl was still absent, and Odd Future’s popularity was surging. So Sanneh headed out to Los Angeles. Tyler, the Creator—the crew’s leader—had an album coming out, and the plan was to write about it and him. (The album, “Goblin,” came out last week, and is currently number two on the Amazon hip-hop chart.)
But as Sanneh researched the story, his curiosity about Earl grew. No one seemed to know much about him or where he’d gone. The group, meanwhile, had a complicated relationship with the absent prodigy. Fans chanted “Free Earl” at concerts and Tyler created graphics with that slogan; one flyer for a show had his name crossed out and the words “Will not be there due to mom.” But no one in O.F. would discuss where, exactly, he was.
In April, Complex magazine reported that it had found Earl, at a school for troubled boys in Samoa. About that same time, Sanneh was digging into Earl’s background and learning about the origins of his startling talent. Earl’s real name is Thebe Neruda Kgositsile, and his father is Keorapetse Kgositsile, one of South Africa’s most celebrated poets. Sanneh spoke with Kgositsile, and learned that the father knew of Earl’s success, but had not listened to the music. “When he feels that he’s got something to share with me, he’ll do that,” Kgositsile said. “And until then I will not impose myself on him just because the world talks of him.”
The person most responsible for Earl, however, is of course his mother, whose marriage to Kgositsile fell apart about a decade ago. She asked that The New Yorker not publish her name because she feared that Earl’s fans would harass her, and she is fiercely trying to protect her teen-age son from the exigencies of sudden fame. “There is a person named Thebe who preëxisted Earl,” Earl’s mother told Sanneh. “That person ought to be allowed to explore and grow, and it’s very hard to do that when there’s a whole set of expectations, narratives, and stories that are attached to him.”
For most of Sanneh’s reporting, it seemed unlikely that he would actually speak with Earl. He is a minor; he hadn’t left any clues; and the people who seemed likely to know his location weren’t talking. But eventually, Earl’s mother arranged for the young rapper to correspond with Sanneh over e-mail. Sanneh writes:
The circumstances of this exchange surely influenced the tone or content of his replies, but the seventeen-year-old boy who is—or was—Earl Sweatshirt comes across as a thoughtful young man trying to figure out what, exactly, has happened to him. When asked whether he was involuntarily confined, his answer was vehement. “No, no no no no no no no no no no.”
Sanneh asked about the “Free Earl” movement:
“Initially I was really pleased that all these people claimed that they wanted me released because I thought that translated into ‘they care,’” Earl wrote. “So time progresses and the fan base gets bigger and the ‘Free Earl’ chants get louder but now with the ‘Free Earl’ chants come a barely indirect ‘Fuck Earl’s Mom’ and in the blink of an eye my worry changes from ‘will there still be this hype when I get back’ to ‘Oh shit I just inspired a widespread movement of people who are dedicated to the downfall of my mom.’”
Earl added, “The only thing I need as of right now is space. I’ve still got work to do and don’t need the additional stress of fearing for my family’s physical well-being. Space means no more ‘Free Earl.’”
When Sanneh asked about his return, he wrote back, “I miss home. I don’t have any definite date though. Even if I did I don’t know if I’d tell you. You’ll hear from me without a doubt when I’m ready.”
Photograph by Jason Nocito.