While certainly not unknown, Toronto's Jordaan Mason and their sprawling catalogue have maintained an obscure presence with a small but devoted following. That allegiance can largely be traced back to their 2009 record, divorce lawyers I shaved my head — a rapturous project that remains a beacon of and testament to queer empathy and storytelling 13 years later. But Mason has proved to be much more than this one record, releasing heaps more equally captivating music, often under different monikers and various ensembles.
In the 13 years since divorce lawyers, a lot of art was created and a lot of life happened, so it's no surprise that unfinished musical ideas — and experiences, both traumatic and treasured — have fallen through the cracks of this prolific mind's subconscious. However, what's lost isn't lost forever; with their new record under a new band name, Mason has decided to search for and brave the messy memories lying at the bottom of their subconscious, to rewrite the words of the past. Throughout their winding discography, Mason has made it their artistic prerogative to explicitly explain and outline the anxieties and ecstasies formative to their creative work, and on REWRITE THE WORDS AGAIN, that excavation is more striking than ever.
On REWRITE THE WORDS AGAIN, splintered memories and dreams, both cherished and pained, come together to form a single breathing body that hisses and wheezes, coughs, and even laughs. It sounds like an accordion, trumpets and harp, choral vocals and the imperfect yet resonant voice of an always-searching Mason. This body is exposed with diaristic detail, but REWRITE THE WORDS AGAIN supersedes any single feeling attached to any specific memories. They've merely been unearthed to form new breath — one that sinks with sadness yet vibrates with laughter and warmth as well.
REWRITE THE WORDS AGAIN stands as Mason's most explicit and startling emotional undertaking in a life full of them. Still, the record is dotted with moments of bittersweet tenderness that allow Mason to be more than a tragic writer who writes only about tragedy. "COLOUR MEMORY" represents the first real instance of heartwarming fondness — musically, it's a lowkey dance number, but it possesses the intimate lyricism of a folk song à la the Postal Service. A brighter turn sonically, the track exposes its endearing heart in the intimate images laid out, whether it's a sun that doesn't go down or a scene as mundane as two people sharing the same nail polish.
On the team-effort grandeur of 'PLAY THE HARP LOUDLY,' this project's purpose and motive are played out with passion and grace — a marching but tender harp-forward cut (as indicated by its title), Mason sing of the need to let go, to be emotional and willing to cry, scream, and release the very things that keep us tight-lipped with shame. These soft-spoken commands are especially poignant when Mason sings of the consequences of recoiling into oneself: "Have I set a boundary / Around my body / A cage of grief and shame to keep people away / It's not fine, it only causes more heartache."
Mason can always be relied on to strike a chord and shock with a simple combination of words, as all the best dramatists do. On the crushingly mournful "HOT BURNING STONE," the truth of what Mason has seen and what the listener hears are inseparable. Despite a gentle assembly of piano, strings, and delicate singing, Mason's forthright words drop into our laps with a thud as they recount witnessing a neighbour die by suicide. This trauma is still mightily pronounced in the present, "[sitting] in [their] gut like a hot burning stone." "HOT BURNING STONE" cuts a deep wound as Mason relates these images of pooling blood, screams, and sirens to their own mortality and that of their own kin. Again, brutal honesty and sheer trauma told with unflinching clarity.
The record doesn't end on such a devastating note. The final three songs are actually quite hopeful — bittersweet but encouraging nonetheless. On the penultimate title track, most notably, Mason leaves us with an urgent parting message, imploring us to "find pockets of pleasure, celebrate in them together / Build a future that is better, [because we] can't do nothing about the past." There's freedom in knowing we can't control anything but what's in front of us, and Mason exemplifies that.
The most vibrant memories are often touched with devastation — REWRITE THE WORDS AGAIN isn't all roses and unicorns, but Mason's latest is ultimately hopeful in knowing that they're alive and here, fighting to have their voice heard so that someone else might listen and find the courage to fight. Simply put, the world needs more artists like Mason, someone who wears their bloody beaten heart for all to see in a time when our perception of reality is distorted by idyllic snapshots, faux film filters, and bite-size offerings of aesthetes living the lives we think we want. Honesty is desired, and Mason offers an unabashed template of what that looks like with REWRITE THE WORDS AGAIN.
(Unelectric Arts)In the 13 years since divorce lawyers, a lot of art was created and a lot of life happened, so it's no surprise that unfinished musical ideas — and experiences, both traumatic and treasured — have fallen through the cracks of this prolific mind's subconscious. However, what's lost isn't lost forever; with their new record under a new band name, Mason has decided to search for and brave the messy memories lying at the bottom of their subconscious, to rewrite the words of the past. Throughout their winding discography, Mason has made it their artistic prerogative to explicitly explain and outline the anxieties and ecstasies formative to their creative work, and on REWRITE THE WORDS AGAIN, that excavation is more striking than ever.
On REWRITE THE WORDS AGAIN, splintered memories and dreams, both cherished and pained, come together to form a single breathing body that hisses and wheezes, coughs, and even laughs. It sounds like an accordion, trumpets and harp, choral vocals and the imperfect yet resonant voice of an always-searching Mason. This body is exposed with diaristic detail, but REWRITE THE WORDS AGAIN supersedes any single feeling attached to any specific memories. They've merely been unearthed to form new breath — one that sinks with sadness yet vibrates with laughter and warmth as well.
REWRITE THE WORDS AGAIN stands as Mason's most explicit and startling emotional undertaking in a life full of them. Still, the record is dotted with moments of bittersweet tenderness that allow Mason to be more than a tragic writer who writes only about tragedy. "COLOUR MEMORY" represents the first real instance of heartwarming fondness — musically, it's a lowkey dance number, but it possesses the intimate lyricism of a folk song à la the Postal Service. A brighter turn sonically, the track exposes its endearing heart in the intimate images laid out, whether it's a sun that doesn't go down or a scene as mundane as two people sharing the same nail polish.
On the team-effort grandeur of 'PLAY THE HARP LOUDLY,' this project's purpose and motive are played out with passion and grace — a marching but tender harp-forward cut (as indicated by its title), Mason sing of the need to let go, to be emotional and willing to cry, scream, and release the very things that keep us tight-lipped with shame. These soft-spoken commands are especially poignant when Mason sings of the consequences of recoiling into oneself: "Have I set a boundary / Around my body / A cage of grief and shame to keep people away / It's not fine, it only causes more heartache."
Mason can always be relied on to strike a chord and shock with a simple combination of words, as all the best dramatists do. On the crushingly mournful "HOT BURNING STONE," the truth of what Mason has seen and what the listener hears are inseparable. Despite a gentle assembly of piano, strings, and delicate singing, Mason's forthright words drop into our laps with a thud as they recount witnessing a neighbour die by suicide. This trauma is still mightily pronounced in the present, "[sitting] in [their] gut like a hot burning stone." "HOT BURNING STONE" cuts a deep wound as Mason relates these images of pooling blood, screams, and sirens to their own mortality and that of their own kin. Again, brutal honesty and sheer trauma told with unflinching clarity.
The record doesn't end on such a devastating note. The final three songs are actually quite hopeful — bittersweet but encouraging nonetheless. On the penultimate title track, most notably, Mason leaves us with an urgent parting message, imploring us to "find pockets of pleasure, celebrate in them together / Build a future that is better, [because we] can't do nothing about the past." There's freedom in knowing we can't control anything but what's in front of us, and Mason exemplifies that.
The most vibrant memories are often touched with devastation — REWRITE THE WORDS AGAIN isn't all roses and unicorns, but Mason's latest is ultimately hopeful in knowing that they're alive and here, fighting to have their voice heard so that someone else might listen and find the courage to fight. Simply put, the world needs more artists like Mason, someone who wears their bloody beaten heart for all to see in a time when our perception of reality is distorted by idyllic snapshots, faux film filters, and bite-size offerings of aesthetes living the lives we think we want. Honesty is desired, and Mason offers an unabashed template of what that looks like with REWRITE THE WORDS AGAIN.
