As Fusilier built each of his loop-based tracks from the ground up, looping a clapped rhythm, passing a climbing bass line over it and propelling it all forward with a gritty guitar hook, it became increasingly apparent how important the present is to his music. Raw and uncut, he's perpetually throwing himself at the moment and making it stick, at once at the mercy of and indebted to whatever fragments of time he's able to capture in the instant immediately beforehand.
He uses every imperfection and every success to his advantage, informing each next move with the one immediately preceding it. Alone on the stage except for some basic gear, it all left a powerful if modest impression, especially when the Brooklyn performer threw himself to the crowd, asking them to join in on a chorus or supply a vocal hook while he sang righteously over top.
He uses every imperfection and every success to his advantage, informing each next move with the one immediately preceding it. Alone on the stage except for some basic gear, it all left a powerful if modest impression, especially when the Brooklyn performer threw himself to the crowd, asking them to join in on a chorus or supply a vocal hook while he sang righteously over top.