Over time, Earl Sweatshirt’s voice has grown wearier and wearier. The once “hot and bothered astronaut” has now crashed into a crater and is sliding farther downward. Tracks from 2015’s I Don’t Like Shit, I Don’t Go Outside such as “Grief” and “Faucet” were composed of barely there industrial clanging and a somnambulant Earl shuffling through the nightmare.
“Death Whistles,” a possible one-off with the UK’s King Krule, only solidifies that Earl’s still asleep. What discernible drums exist are dull and gently smothered by slow twisting synthesizers. Earl starts off muttering and ends his one, stream-of-unconsciousness, verse by muttering. In between the hazy bookends, he’s obliterating himself with some 80-proof and staying inside once he sees the forecast has no hope to offer. “You can death’s whistle from afar” he raps halfway through. It’s not that far off by the sounds of the track.