Almost uniquely among the anti-folk crowd, New York resident Mason isn’t preoccupied with lo-fi aesthetics. His well-observed ditties may be furnished with little more than acoustic guitar, but a nasal whine and knack for turning out fully-constructed songs give him a robustness lacking in many of his contemporaries. As with fellow tunesmith Jeff Lewis, Daniel Johnston’s influence looms large, as do Dylan and Sonic Youth, but Mason has a wry way with words. His take on love? “My mitten became a glove/My chicken became a dove”. Charming.
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