New Zealand Listener - November 5, 2016

56 LISTENER NOVEMBER 5 2016

BOOKS&CULTURE

C

onnan Mockasin is one of those

overachieving Kiwis abroad whose

work seems destined to remain in

the glorious fringes of oddity.

Having penned the score for the big-

screen adaptation of Eleanor Catton’s The

Rehearsal and toured and written with

such heavyweights as James Blake and

Charlotte Gainsbourg, he ought to enjoy

a far higher profile at home than the hey-

we’re-back concerts with Lawrence Arabia

and Liam Finn he seems to fall back on.

His latest outing is a collaboration,

dubbed Soft Hair, with fellow psychedelic

popster – and self-styled Earth Shaman –

Sam Dust, aka LA Priest. The eponymous

album is accompanied by curious, gender-

bending, acid-washed portraits that point

to the wonderfully left-field synth funk-

pop that Mockasin and Dust have been

working on for the past five years.

The standout is the gloopy groove of

Lying Has to Stop that starts with 80 sec-

onds of lapping waves and warped guitar

before settling into a cheeky Prince-esque

duet (“I like to watch you run but I’ll

never touch your bum”).

But in what’s an inten-

tionally off-beat and

strangely short offer-

ing of just eight

tracks, including

an interlude

and outro, Soft Hair provides more than

just a hint of Mockasin and Dust experi-

mentation. Opener Relaxed Lizard squirrels

away around an oddly top-heavy

funk beat and introduces the

pair’s love of sleazy Mickey Mouse

falsetto, whereas Jealous Lies and

A Goood Sign lean more towards

ambient electro.

Nothing sits easily in the

album, which feels like it’s

glued together by smirks. But

that doesn’t mean it isn’t finely

crafted. Penultimate track Alive

Without Medicine is a prime exam-

ple, layering odd panting vocals,

twisted guitars and keys that feel

loose and improvised, but swap-

ping roles and weaving skilfully

around a three-part psychedelic

structure. Stunningly strange prog pop

with an impudent pixie grin.

SOFT HAIR, Soft Hair (Universal)

A

fter sharing liner-note credits

for years with rockers, coun-

try folk, hip-hop stars, soul

legends and indie songsters, cross-

code queen Norah Jones has

finally created the album many

expected to follow 2002’s

Grammy-blitzing debut,

Come Away with Me.

Day Breaks leans

more heavily on

Jones’ jazz roots than

anything she’s

released since moving from Texas to New

York to play lounge standards. By coating

her honeyed vocals and softcore piano in

the sax of virtuoso band leader

Wayne Shorter and the organ of

George Benson-exile Dr Lonnie

Smith, she shows, once again, she

means business.

Standout originals such as It’s a

Wonderful Time for Love, the title

track and And Then There Was

You fit timelessly between Duke

Ellington’s Fleurette Africaine and

a bluesy version of Neil Young’s

Don’t be Denied. But it’s her deliv-

ery that continues to meld jazz,

pop and soul towards new forms

and that will prove to be this

album’s selling point.

DAY BREAKS, Norah Jones (Blue

Note)

W

ayne “The Train” Hancock’s

version of hillbilly boogie may

rely on the throwback stylings of

yesteryear Texas and owe its storytelling

chops to Hank Williams, but by busting

out his blues tales of shootings, divorce,

broken strings and damaged lives over

slick-simple rockabilly guitar runs and

slides, he turns ole-time tunes into a mod-

ern-day soundtrack. Among stylised alt-,

nu- and retro-roots country, Hancock’s

sound stands out as the real deal and cuts

to the heart of American songwriting. l

SLINGIN’ RHYTHM, Wayne Hancock

PHOTO BY ERWAN FICHOU (Southbound)

‘Goood’

signs inely

crafted

Connan Mockasin’s

latest is stunningly

strange prog pop with

an impudent grin.

MUSIC

by James Beleld

Soft Hair:

intentionally

of-beat.

Norah Jones: a delivery that

continues to meld jazz, pop

and soul towards new forms.