Fetty Wap shows Fillmore love and skills
In a tight set at the Fillmore, Fetty Wap displayed surprising live vocals and a lot of love for his enthusiastic audience.
As far as hip-hop's cult of personality goes, Fetty Wap, of Paterson, N.J., has it all sewn up. He's an anomaly - a guy who sing-speaks melodic, licentious, East Coast gangsta-rap love songs, but doesn't allow guns in his videos. A handsome young man, he isn't afraid to show off the ocular prosthesis where his left eye was before it was damaged by glaucoma in childhood.
Fetty Wap made the summer of 2015 his personal jukebox with back-to-back Top 10 hits such as "679," "Again," and "My Way," yet he still manages to seem like an underground sensation with hard-banging trap beats as deep as his regard for Lambos. He and his opener, Texas space-soul rapper/vocalist Post Malone, guaranteed that Thursday's crowd at the Fillmore was entertained.
While Auto-Tune tones permeated his eponymous 2015 debut, Fetty Wap's deep voice and conversational flow at the Fillmore was live and surprisingly jazzy. He closed several paeans to money and romance (e.g. "Trap Queen") with a cappella runs. He had a tell, a tic he repeated when reaching the chorus - say, the creamy "Mine Forever" or "679" - where he sang "ahhh, ooh" before leaning into the contagious verse. It's an effective vocal trick, like a boxer tapping his opponent's chin before socking him with an uppercut.
Fetty Wap's voice grew gruff and slurry during the finger-snap percussion of "D.A.M. (Dats All Me)" and the sawed-synth rhythm of "Trap Luv." This also lent his vocals emotion while tackling the irresistibly contagious "Again" and its frustrated catcall, "I want you to be mine again, baby/ I know my lifestyle is driving you crazy/ but, I cannot see myself without you."
Along with sing-rapping his hits during his 70-minute set, Fetty Wap brought out Remy Boyz buddy Monty, paced the edge of the stage signing autographs, talked about the motorcycle accident that temporarily sidelined him, and thanked the throng for its love and support. He seemed to mean every word he said and sang.
Post Malone opened with melodies nearly as contagious as the headliner. Only here, Malone's arrangements were floaty and spacey, like a sequenced-synth cloud. The self-proclaimed "king of sauce" rap-crooned absurdist abstract lyrics in a breathy voice until he hit upon the poignant "Too Young" (as in "I don't want to die too young"), with what sounded like a tribute to David Bowie. There was also the humorous, "White Iverson" and its shout-out to the 76ers.