Jazz Café, Camden
“What’s an MC?”
Returning to the fray after a litany of releases beyond the Pandemic, R.A.P Ferreira incites an insightful class of existential questioning to the sold-out Camden crowd.
It is an undeniable, birth-given right for rappers and emcees to question their surrounding world. One still feels the reverberating rhetoric of Tupac Shakur (“And still I see no changes, can't a brother get a little peace?”) and Kendrick Lamar (“When shit hit the fan, is you still a fan?”), yet for one to self-question the very role they embody each night seems unnervingly daunting. As the Wisconsin rapper prepared his on-stage arrangement (rickety chair; acoustic guitar; the blues), the sold-out Camden crowd collectively paused to hear R.A.P. Ferreira’s interpretation of this self-imposed question.
Formerly known as Milo, tonight's rapper has been known to lament over life’s burgeoning questions in recent years under the influence of lo-fi, laidback aesthetics imbued by the previous decade's underground scene. ‘Mid Answer’ gives a throwback aura reminiscent of B. Cool Aid, mixed with Kenny Segal’s lo-fi production, inviting the rapper to proverb at dizzying, rhyming effect (“Shamika’s son coddiwompling, body rocking / Convert toxin while keeping the party hopping.”), even if a little superfluous.
Since the rapper’s name transition, Ferreira now exudes a pertinently confident approach undercut by slicker production: a chest-thumping, infectious bravado in ‘East Nashville’; similar spoken-word patterns (a-la Noname) against menial subject matters in ‘Laundry’. Establishing a base of common ground, the rapper forever tussles with the elusive veneer of notoriety as an emcee whilst dealing with the mundanity of life's everyday tasks.
Ferreira extends this touching commonality even further, breaking the 4th wall in a self-referential paradigm caught within ‘Cycles’: “The rhyme you are about to hear isn’t true / But it isn’t false either”. Relating the magical aura of rapping’s storytelling charm, the rapper delves into the troubled consciousness of his inner psyche (“My sadness is a hound dog and he creep beside me”), concluding on the devastating dangers of the wider rap scene: “You know rappin’ get people killed.” Caked in this subject matter, his natural off-beat accentuation makes for an illustrious and engaging exposé, leaving us hypnotised within Ferreira’s ethereal aura of bending guitar licks and softened beats amongst his multifarious backdrop.
Whilst this set may not have conclusively led us closer to answering such an overarching question plaguing the genre, R.A.P Ferreira embodies the very inquisitive and introspective spirit of a true-blue emcee: tussling with inner demons; existential questioning; humbled by the gifts of notoriety and attention (“We appreciate your patience with this weird ass music”).
Adorned as a wisdom-sparing, introspective character, Ferreira’s tongue doesn’t quite match up to his fellow contemporaries of alternative lanes, notably Billy Woods or Quelle Chris. Pinned back by a fractured set within Camden’s Jazz Café, many pertinent questions were offered yet few retorts transpired - his search for greater meaning lives on.
6.5/10
R.A.P Ferreira's latest LP, 5 to the Eye with Stars, is out now via Ruby Yacht and can be found below.
Photo is courtesy of Natasha Koziarska whose work can be found here.
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