Tim Fite |
It’s already given critics who don’t usually have much to say about hip-hop — people like, uh, me — license to wax poetic over, you know, the skillz and shit of Brooklyn rapper Tim Fite. Because even if the revolution isn’t televised, you may just be able to download it. Fite, who’s signed to the Epitaph imprint Anti-, along with like-minded politicized rappers the Coup and Blackalicious, put out his debut, 2005’s Gone Ain’t Gone, the regular way. But while fans of his poetic polemics await his next Anti- release (due later this year), he’s giving away his new Over the Counter Culture at www.timfite.com. That’s right: he’s giving it away. What’s the upside? Well, it seems that’s what Greg Kot was referring to when he wrote, “One of the best albums of the new year can’t be bought.” And as we all know, press like that can’t be bought. Here’s a sampling of the disc . . .
Tim Fite, “Place Your Bets”
Indie-rockers already know that you don’t need to mortgage your artistic soul on studio costs to get a good snare sound. And that’s the old-skool rule Fite comes out of the gate with on this, the disc’s wordy, noirish opener. A creeping bass line, some creepy tinkling, and a light snare keeping time is all you need when you have this much literate tongue twisting, as playful as it is deadly serious, to get through. Yeah, Fite’s for real . . .
Tim Fite, “Bacon”
“The package says it’s made with real bacon . . . this doesn’t taste like real bacon.” That’s all Fite says before 10 seconds of organ-driven garage rock puts an exclamation point on his point. That’s 14 seconds of pure genius . . .
Tim Fite, “Over the Counter Culture”
Given the central rhyme of the dubby, reggae-flavored title track, you might wonder whether our man hasn’t taken aim at the wrong target just because it fits his scheme. “This one goes out to all my peoples with addictions/Fighting the fight against the men who write prescriptions.” But the verses here are so dense with provocative couplets that Fite can be cut some artistic slack. And don’t skip the 39-second turntable workout, “Good Evening,” that serves as an intro.
Tim Fite, “I’ve Been Shot”
“Shot in the dick/Shot in the arm/Shot in the leg/Shot in the head . . . I woulda never been shit if I never been shot . . . ” Send-ups of gangsta culture don’t get any better than this simple track, which includes a little how-to segment, some great fake gunfire, and such a powerful flow that you hardly notice there’s barely a beat supporting all the bullet boasting.
