Willy Mason, ‘Where the Humans Eat’
There is something about Willy Mason that you can’ t quite put your finger on. This 19-year-old from New York is one of a rare breed of new unknown singer/songwriters whose lyrics are that of someone with many more years behind them. Sounding like a young Bob Dylan with the bittersweet sentiment of a Damien Rice this is an artist who will not be pigeonholed.
Soft drums and minimal guitars allow his vocals to take centre stage helping the sound of his records to become incredibly intimate. Mason displays admirable insight and humility for a nineteen year-old, but this is still a teenager’s record. Where Humans Eat is a peculiar collection of songs and you wouldn’t be wrong in believing, as I did, that it has overwhelming tones of country and western; but with songs like Still a Fly, the direction of this album becomes somewhat confusing.
However, Masons current release, Oxygen, comprising mainly of an ominous, one note acoustic guitar rhythm, convinced me that this album was worth a second listen. This is Mason’s protest song, a procession of declarations, consolations and encouragements; it seems to stem from a well of deep feeling and genuine concern.
Mason’s gig at Fibbers on Sunday February 6th has already sold out, indicating that he is certainly a talent for the future.
