Earl Sweatshirt, fresh from Made in America, is dynamic at TLA
For a headlining rapper with a deep catalog (including the work of his sometime band, Odd Future and recordings by Madlib and Mac Miller), Earl Sweatshirt is kind of a goofball.

For a headlining rapper with a deep catalog (including the work of his sometime band, Odd Future and recordings by Madlib and Mac Miller), Earl Sweatshirt is kind of a goofball.
When Tyler, the Creator did a Theatre of Living Arts gig with him in March 2013, the rapper (real name: Thebe Neruda Kgositsile) hid in plain sight - head down, as if looking for loose change - under a hoodie, popping his head out turtlelike only when his turn came to rhyme. For his October 2013 gig at the same venue, he mostly left the stage to then-lesser-known rapper Vince Staples.
On Saturday, he did an early, short, sharp Made in America set as a sampler of his coming show that night, again at the TLA. Apparently, all Earl Sweatshirt needed to stay dynamic for the evening show was a catnap.
With hype-man Nakel Smith bouncing beside him, Sweatshirt moved among the roles of sinister seducer, cut-throat menace, distant lover, good son, and better grandson with expressionist lyrics. His deep, mobile voice touched on "Quest/Power," with the bracing, tender lines, "I told my momma I'm on my way home, / I know my grandma watching over my soul" with both force and jesting joviality.
That's how Sweatshirt rolled all night, never seeming to take (or give) anything too seriously for too long. "Grown Ups," "I Be Outside," and a sparkling "AM//Radio" hit and ended fast. When Sweatshirt and Smith attacked the guitar samples of "Hell" with lyrics such as "love trees like Mitt Romney," it was as if they were goofing with refrigerator magnet poetry.
Yet when Sweatshirt focused on the melodious hook of "Hell" ("If that's on you, then that's on me too"), it had a point, as if somebody had to pay for something. Same for "Mantra" and its lovely difference-between-us riffs over salted-caramel soul sounds - until a fight started in the audience, lights went up, and security surely was reminded of the fatal shooting in front of TLA the previous night.
Everything smoothed over quickly, yet the interruption gave Sweatshirt and friends - seldom known to perform for much more than 45 minutes - an excuse to get behind the DJ-laptop setup, spin tracks such as "Rats," a thoroughly enjoyable experience that the crowd ate up.