It's full of the kind of jazzy music that doesn’t indulge in pesky soloing.
Colin Buttimer 2009
Saskamodie is languorous and breathily swoonsome. It's full of the kind of jazzy music that doesn’t indulge in pesky soloing. Think sunny café afternoons, rented apartments, uncertain rendezvous and knitted mittens and you'll be in the right area. On the evidence of this album, the fact that Mocky was born in Canada rather than France is the result of a cosmic mistake.
If his name is familiar, you may have encountered Mocky's work with Jane Birkin, Puppetmastaz, Jamie Lidell or Feist - the latter two both pop up here. There's no sign of Mocky's rap delivery, all vocals are gently crooned and often wordless.
Saskamodie starts as it means to go on with the swish of brushes, the swing of rich double bass and a melody traced out successively by recorder, wistful vocals and finally string quartet. Birds of a Feather has a tune you could whistle. In fact someone does whistle it on the track, but you could join in if you like. Golden Dream ups the ante just a little with slapdash percussion and delightfully antic vocals. And could anyone disagree with a track entitled Chubby Cheeks?
A pert 41 minutes in length, Saskamodie was surely intended to be rapturously rediscovered on a vinyl album a few years hence, peppered with crackles that only serve to embellish Mocky's music. It's only a cruel twist of fate that has caused it to be released on a shiny compact disc. If Saskamodie was a film, it would undoubtedly be The Science of Sleep by Michel Gondry. Please take that as a wholehearted endorsement.