Felly joins Shelf

If you were in search of a new indie album to blast this summer, ideally written and recorded by a multi-dimensional artist respected throughout the industry, look no further. Felly, singer/songwriter/producer/rapper from Trumbull, Connecticut is entering a new chapter—an indie one. In his interview with ShelfMAG, he discusses his upcoming project, Ambroxyde, an album tapping into the indie/alternative music that’s always soundtracked his life. Throughout our conversation, Felly speaks to the sense of autonomy he learned in the cathartic process of creating his fourth studio album, the necessary peaks and valleys inextricably linked to musicianship, why Bob Marley is the greatest artist of all time, and of course, his Shelf. Ambroxyde is out on all streaming platforms Friday, June 27th. Read along for the interview and be sure to follow him on Shelf.

ShelfMAG: Your latest album—or upcoming album, I should say—correct me if I'm pronouncing it wrong. I've been saying Ambroxyde. Is that correct?

@Felly227:That's right. Yeah, that's right.

ShelfMAG: All right. Correct me if I'm wrong here—it’s named after a synthetic molecule found in perfume?

@Felly227: It's essentially named after a candle. It's this scent that I was burning throughout making [the album], and I just love the name and I love the smell. We went to this perfumery in Iceland, and the guy from Sigur Rós, which is this really cool Icelandic band, started this. This is kind of his later-in-life project. This perfumery, it was all black. It kind of looked like a Chrome Hearts store or something. And they would give you scents and you'd smell different notes and they would show you almost like a musical organ of different scents—there's low tones, higher tones—and they would put together these smells that were based off of—one was like based off of this woman's grandfather who would return from the docks. So it would have a rusty screw, a leather jacket, a tobacco pipe, the smell of the ocean, sea salt, stuff like that. And [the perfumer] read us a poem. She had you close your eyes so you're limited to one sense. And I was just really moved by that process. I've had smell all my life, but you could smell things and it could be so nostalgic and just put you in a world. And since senses inspired this album and the making of it, I went with a name that was reminiscent of a scent.

ShelfMAG: That's sick. I feel like so many scents, you know, they're attached to memories and they kind of take us from one specific stage of life to the next. Do you feel like there's any particular song on the project that represents a personal shift for you?

@Felly227: Yeah, definitely. This song called “Song for the Crows”, which is kind of like a folk rock type of song that is sort of me putting myself in the shoes of my dad who passed when I was 8. The day before he got diagnosed, there was a bunch of crows in the lawn. My mom kind of saw it as a premonition or a bad omen, but that to an 8 year old is such a weird thing to wrap your head around. Like the birds know what's gonna happen and the idea of superstition in general was really cool. So I wrote this song called “Song for the Crows” and it's kind of a message to death, in the shoes of my dad. So it's an uncovering and a full circle exploration of that time of my life and that experience. I took some phone calls back home to my mom to kind of get an idea of what was really going on during that time, how was everyone feeling in the house, and tried to describe that whole mood. Even though it's a dark concept and a little bit eerie, I like eerie stuff and it kind of made for a badass song.

ShelfMAG: I mean, I'd agree. Fortunately, I've had the opportunity to listen to the project, and as someone who has also lost a parent as a child, that'll definitely change the way I think about and listen to the song.

I feel like you've been evolving as an artist for a long time now. Early fans know This Shit Comes in Waves and “Desert Eagle”, but it feels like you're not really interested in staying still. How do you navigate growth without losing the core of who you are musically?

@Felly227: Well, first off, I appreciate you being tapped in and knowing the context of stuff. It's really been interesting to do this for so long, even though it doesn't feel long. I kind of started so early, so young. I was putting stuff out and getting some sort of, like, eyes on me at 15 or 16. I don't view myself as old, but in terms of context of how long artists usually have careers, it's like “damn, some of these people have been listening for 10, 12 years”. And then they're in the comments referencing those old songs, but also being like, I have kids now and I'm about to turn 30. I don't have kids, but I'm talking about them.

I think the music helps to just keep me honest with where I am. And I think the best part about music is that once you venture down a certain road, you sort of don't want to go back into that road. And it's kind of like, I've been there and I've done that. So luckily, I've kind of been able to be proficient and adamant about going into many different worlds and just being able to keep it pushing. I think they all add and inform to the next world that you're going to go to. I don't know if there's ever going to be a “we found it” moment, but I think that's the hope—that with each project and each road you go down, you synthesize all of them into the one that's the truest and the most you. But I think it's all a process of figuring out who you are.

When I listen back to songs like “Desert Eagle”, it's not that I disassociate from it or think that's not me. I definitely hear myself in it, and I think it's a part of me. And then when I listen to something on [Ambroxyde], I'm like, “wow, that's also a part of me as well.” I'm always interested in going forward.

I just saw this Lauryn Hill speech where she's like, in hip hop especially, everybody wants to get to the top of the mountain and then stay and be like, “I'm here. You're not moving me. I'm here.” But she's like, there's peaks and valleys, and if you don't come down the mountain and go to the foot of a new mountain and kind of learn new things of how to navigate that mountain, then you're just missing out on other, new territory. I think I found myself at the base of a new mountain with playing with a band and playing alternative, indie-ish type of sounds. Do I still want to resurface on some of those other mountains that I also loved and had a lot of joy in with hip hop music and stuff like that? Yes. And I think going forward, I'm definitely going to synthesize everything, but I'm aware that it's kind of like an identity crisis.

It's like a million different things, but it's all an attempts to hone in on something that's the most authentic and the most true. Because I think we're all complex beings. And anytime I've tried to just be one thing, it just doesn't work for me. I'm not just one thing.

ShelfMAG: If you could put a finger on one thing, what do you feel like you've learned about yourself in the process of making this album, specifically?

@Felly227: I think I learned autonomy. I had to prove to myself that I could do something like this. I could get a band, I could write songs on guitar, I can sing, I can make an album with no rap. I think I felt limited in some sense of, “am I only good at writing bars and like getting on beats?” Because that started to get a little bit stale and I was starting to look up to a lot of singer/songwriters and people who could really move you. It's always been how crazy can you get a crowd, and can you get them to mosh? And can you move people physically and visually? But then I went to a Bon Iver concert where everyone was sitting and quiet and it was the full Hollywood bowl, silent. And I realized there's ways to move people quietly. So I wanted to figure out, can I move somebody who's just standing still and get through to them in a way like that?

I think I learned autonomy and that I'm capable of doing anything. And now it's just about being precise and intentional about what I want to do. I showed myself that I could pretty much do whatever, anything I want.

ShelfMAG: That's powerful. These last questions are a bit more light-hearted. What would you consider a red flag on if you saw it on someone's Shelf?

@Felly227: A red flag? If you're kind of just following trends and just part of the algorithm and a general consumer of what you think you're supposed to listen to, I think that would be a red flag.

ShelfMAG: Then what would you consider a green flag?

@Felly227: A green flag would be having things from different time periods and genres and pulling from different things. I think that was a big thing with this album. Why do we all reference the same things for inspiration? You could find inspiration in things like architecture. You could be inspired by a room, or a design. I think pulling references from different genres and mediums from different time periods is really cool. And that makes me think of something add to my Shelf as well. I think you can get a lot of inspiration from cultures, places, different things and learning about different people.

ShelfMAG: What item on your Shelf do you think is most likely to stay there forever? It doesn't have to be on it right now, but a piece of media or anything that you don't ever see yourself growing tired of.

@Felly227: I think the music of Bob Marley, you're probably always going to see somewhere on my Shelf. I think he's actually the best artist. I've had conversations about who's the all-time best artist, and I genuinely think it's Bob Marley. He can't be beat on a global, influential level and what the role of an artist is. I think that's my guy.

ShelfMAG: Top song of his?

@Felly227: Oh, that's too hard. Let's go with “Turn Your Lights Down Low” because it's a good one. It's an interesting one.

ShelfMAG: The interpolation with Lauryn Hill? Good choice.

@Felly227: Yeah. That's a sick song.

ShelfMAG: You said that to the right person for sure.

@Felly227: Hell yeah.

Curious about what else Felly is into? Get real-time updates at shelf.im/felly227