Caramel
New Zealand psych pop virtuoso Connan Mockasin's latest, Caramel, creates a stainless world that is both unsettling and fitting. Each new instrument seems to come out thick and globby, gradually dribbling out with an adult contemporary sheen.
The New Zealander delivers a meandering record of strange funk for his second full length.
Australia and New Zealand got wise to the magically sexual, psyched-out being Connan Mockasin years ago, apparently.
Taking his talents for strangeness and mood-making in a very different direction, Connan Mockasin's second solo album is a far cry from the whimsical psych pop he made with the Mockasins, and pretty far removed from his acclaimed 2010 album, Forever Dolphin Love.
It’s been a busy period for Erol Alkan’s London-based Phantasy Sound label, with this second LP from New Zealander Connan Mockasin following the release of Daniel Avery’s widely-acclaimed Drone Logic in October. It’s indicative of the adventurousness of the label that the two releases could hardly be more different: where Avery specialises in ornately-wrought techno, Caramel sees Mockasin moving away from the twisted psych of his debut Forever Dolphin Love towards a bizarre blend of soul, funk and downbeat electronica.
The entirety of Connan Mockasin's second album, Caramel, sounds like it was recorded underwater-backwards. This is psychedelic pop at its boldest, and Mockasin puts his emphasis on the first half of that term.
Pop oddball Connan Mockasin's latest offering is by turns sugar-sweet and creepy, writes <strong>Hermione Hoby</strong>
Review of "Caramel" by Connan Mockasin for Northern Transmissions by Alan Ranta. "Caramel" comes out November 5th in North America on Mexican Summer.
New Zealand's psychedelic dolphin fancier gets all the more mystifiying on his terrific second album, writes <strong>Harriet Gibsone</strong>
Enigmatic troubadour Connan Mockasin returns with his second album, a follow-up to 2010’s critically acclaimed Forever Dolphin Love which won him a cult following. Championed by the likes of Erol Alkan, Radiohead and Charlotte Gainsbourg, the elfin New Zealander is governed by his creative whimsy, writing music only when the mood takes him. This album is the musical equivalent of an indulgent Galaxy Caramel bar – smooth, sweet and stupor-inducing.