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While the hooks are certainly great in places, it jumps from place to place so quickly that there's never anything for the ear and brain to go back to.
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Three more songs of similar quality and dropping the story about how this was just some free writing experiment and Sweaty Magic would probably have been one of my albums of the year.
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Because of its multifarious song types--leftfield club thumpers, futuristic sex ditties, and funky space jams--some will contend that Sweaty Magic lacks cohesion, that it's too ADD to be listenable, but I would argue that is precisely Rafter's point.
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Be sure to check Sweaty Magic out if you are in the market for an 18-minute freak-out. Even if you’re not, it would be in your best interest to get a taste of Rafter’s noisy genius.