The following is a transcript of the above podcast.
Hi, I’m Abby LaPier of the Paly Voice.
The underground hip-hop super group, Felt, returned Tuesday with its third release titled “Felt 3: A Tribute to Rosie Perez.” For this installment, Ian Bavitz, better known as Aesop Rock, produced for rappers Sean Daley and Nick Carter, who go by the aliases Slug and MURS, respectively.
Looking at its contributors, it should be a fantastic combination. Atmosphere, Daley’s band with producer Anthony Davis, is quite possibly the best hip-hop group I’ve listened to. My expectations for MURS were also pretty high after being thoroughly impressed by some YouTube-age. Bavitz, who also raps, has put out some very respectable songs as well. But put them all together, and, well, the word that comes to mind is “eh.”
The problem is hard to pinpoint. It certainly doesn’t rest with Bavitz, who holds up his end admirably. At lot of the CD is very creepy, but the bizarre, sinister backup is surprisingly compelling. To be honest, the best track on the CD is pure Bavitz, “Kevin Spacey.” It makes me want to dance with a bunch of Germans in pleather. It is fantastic.
There are a few other high points in the album. I loved the ineffably silly “Get Cake.” It’s basically a glorified skit, but hilarious, which is saying something. This is literally the content of the song. It is completely ludicrous. Why can other rappers not be this funny?
“The Clap” is another work of hilarity. The drumline is like Jazzercise, but so much better.
There is only really one song that is good all the way through on “Felt 3,” “Ghost Dance Deluxe.” Imagine Daley as a stalker and/or very creepy john leering at someone in a strip club. Actually. And it gets better: there are ghosts laughing and something that sounds suspiciously like a didgeridoo. Daley does what he does best on this track, too, which is perfect, metaphorical, and terrifyingly vivid imagery. He has a way of hitting the beat that escapes my feverish attempts at counting, but I can’t stop listening.
In addition to the few good songs, there are some great moments. In keeping with expectations, Daley delivers some very hilarious and insightful lines. His characterizations are always spot on, like his description of a crack addict in the otherwise mediocre “Permanent Standby.”
Carter has mastered the, in my opinion lost, art of the sinister pickup line. I giggled like a schoolgirl during “Whaleface” when he delivered this one. Carter also has his own unique but compelling take on rhythm, languid but with sharp syncopations. His words spread out like perfectly articulated triplets.
Unfortunately, there are some horrid points. The first song, “Protagonists,” was completely devoted to Daley and Carter patting themselves on the back and talking about how hardcore they are. The problem is, they’re really not. Indie rappers are not that scary. Also, when nobody knows who you are, it’s hard to call yourself the greatest.
The CD got pretty bad towards the end, when the songs became virtually indistinguishable. It was all technically good, but the lyrics petered out and ran together. I didn’t particularly know what I should have been listening to. The songs are not catchy. They’re the songs you don’t skip because you’re not paying attention.
The CD isn’t bad, but it’s not anything close to a classic. Honestly, it’s just too long. There are 20 tracks on this album, and most of them are rap. It’s a wall of sound and tiring. To make the most of it, go on YouTube, feel out what works for you, and buy those songs.
Compared to ninety percent of American hip-hop, it’s a good CD. Compared to other music from Daley, Carter and Bavitz, it’s a bit of a disappointment, and whenever the artists get carried away in self-congratulatory ego stroking, it really is no good. At its best, “Felt 3: A tribute to Rosie Perez” is a creepy, surreal masterpiece. At its worse, it’s solid but uninspired self-referential rubbish.
Thank you for listening. I’m Abby LaPier of the Paly Voice.