If you're looking for something that's aurally challenging and off the beaten path, stop searching and buy this album. It's Mockasin's second full-length album (his first is set to be released later this month), and it's quite frankly like nothing you've ever heard before. The easiest description I can give is if Pink Floyd's Syd Barrett became lead songwriter for Prince: smooth R&B-like jams with weird lyrics that make you wonder what's going on in Mockasin's head. In terms of the process of writing the album, Mockasin said, "It's just ideas in my head that I put together, and later on it might make more sense. But I don't think about the meaning at the time. Or I'm not aware of it." Whether or not this album makes sense is so far from the point, because this album is like a drug. And if this album is a drug, then I will gladly declare myself a junkie. On my first listen, I didn't particularly care for the album. On my second listen, I liked it even less. And yet there was something there each time I listened to it, something unique and painfully intriguing. It wasn't until my third listen that everything started to meld together and start to work. As of today, I think I'm on my twelfth listen, but I've honestly lost count. It's just that good! Mockasin's music harkens back to that of the '70s and leans strongly towards the two artists mentioned above. Above all else, this album is refreshing. Like the album's namesake, there's something sweet and sensual about the songs and the music. The slow pace makes for a romantic feel, Connan's vocals coming through in a hushed tone to both soothe and stimulate your ears. If you're having a romantic evening with the missus, "Caramel" could very well set the perfect mood.
I would recommend this to a friend