One of the things I love most about seeing creatives at work and in their element is their freedom. When an artist—especially a performing musician—is really in their bag, it’s beautiful. Look at the video for Tyler, the Creator’s “Earfquake.”
What the fuck is this? In it he stars as a ‘60s-era singer rocking on a late nite show. He’s wearing a blond bowl cut wig and towards the end of the short, he flicks a cigarette away from his piano, which eventually burns down the set. It makes no sense. There’s no narrative. I don’t know if the piece (one that spends its first minute locked in on a hilarious interaction between host Tracee Ellis Ross and Tyler) means anything at all. But damn, it’s good.
The way he ticks on beat at the 2:20 mark. The smog and gunk on his sky blue boxy suit. The faint into the arms fire fighters. The flames raging behind him as he sings in front.
The shit is gorgeous.
Similar to the IGOR album this song comes from, the “Earfquake” video seems to come from the magical land of No Fucks. Most of us only vacation there when we’re in the shower and the house is empty. It’s a place I wish we all lived, where its natives create stuff that comes from their hearts and act accordingly. It doesn’t matter if your voice sounds like Whitney Houston’s or the garbage disposal in your kitchen, if you dance like Michael Jackson or Elaine Benes. You just sing, because that’s how you feel.
In turn, I’m feeling this wave Tyler’s on.