With concept albums becoming rare gems in this world, Zachary Mason stands tall as a bold and imaginative storyteller who dares to blend satire, sincerity, and sonic adventure into a single listening experience. The 28-year-old Guildford-based artist has long been a favorite among fans of inventive songwriting, and with his latest EP, “5…4…3…2…1…,” he proves again that his creativity knows no bounds.
With “5…4…3…2…1…,” Mason launches his most cohesive and cinematic project to date—a three-part cosmic journey that mirrors humanity’s descent, escape, and lament. The EP fuses space rock, psychedelic, and experimental textures into an entertaining and thought-provoking narrative. Each track is a chapter in an unfolding saga, carrying us from Earth’s collapse to the strange dust of Mars and finally to the hollow ache of homesickness.
The opening track, “5…4…3…2…1…” is a satirical masterstroke. It’s a biting commentary wrapped in infectious rhythm and interstellar flair. Mason wastes no time pulling us into his dystopian world with the provocative line, “Getting tired of waste production—we need to do it somewhere else!” It’s hilarious and horrifying, capturing humanity’s impulse to escape its mess rather than clean it up. Mason’s vocals here are animated, brimming with irony and urgency, as if narrating a mock space broadcast to a population too busy scrolling to notice the flames. The driving percussion mimics a countdown clock, while the synths pulse like red alert signals in a launch bay. Each beat and burst of distortion heightens the tension until the chorus lands like a mission command: “5 4 3 2 1 / Let’s hope we go before we’re gone!”
The production is cinematic, layered with atmosphere and energy, and balances wit with weight. Mason’s performance channels theatrical intensity—part rock prophet, part mad scientist—reminding us that satire can be both funny and frightening when it hits too close to home.
After the dark humor of the opener, “The Funky Martians” explodes into an assortment of groove and imagination. This is Mason at his most playful, spinning an absurd yet oddly uplifting fable of humans landing on Mars and accidentally resolving interplanetary conflict through music. “The Martians seemed angry: the humans would die!” He narrates, setting the scene for chaos until young Johnny’s accidental button press unleashes a wave of “funky music” that turns battle into boogie.
The production here is joyfully retro, built on rubbery basslines, vintage synth grooves, and tight, crisp percussion that channels the golden era of funk. Mason’s vocal delivery is charmingly theatrical. His storytelling shines, filled with humor, rhythm, and heart. By the end, peace is achieved not by force, but by funk—a message that feels refreshingly human in an age of division. This track is Mason’s invitation to laugh, dance, and imagine a universe where music is the ultimate unifier.
Closing the EP is “Earthsick,” a haunting reflection that replaces satire with sorrow. Here, Mason trades playful storytelling for deep emotional gravity, and the result is devastatingly beautiful. The song opens with ghostly synth pads and a slow, echoing drumbeat that instantly evokes a cold, barren Martian landscape. His vocals arrive like a confession: “We miss blue skies—and apple pies! We told ourselves so many lies.”
There’s an ache in every word—nostalgia, regret, and realization intertwining as the song builds. As his voice grows more intense, the repeated cries of “Earthsick” sound like a cry and a warning. The guitars swell with distortion, while eerie electronic undertones swirl like the “red dust” he describes, enveloping you in the suffocating weight of loss. Mason’s performance is raw, impassioned, and deeply human, concluding the trilogy not with resolution, but reflection. It’s a chilling reminder of what happens when progress loses its soul.
What makes “5…4…3…2…1…” remarkable isn’t just its narrative ambition, but how Mason merges meaning with music. The EP’s production is crisp, cinematic, and unpredictable. Each track is painted with textures that evoke its world. From countdown drums to cosmic synths, from funky basslines to distorted wails, every sound feels intentional and alive. Mason’s ability to shift between tones—satirical, celebratory, and sorrowful—cements him as a true auteur of concept-driven rock.
Zachary Mason doesn’t just make songs; he builds universes, populates them with humor and humanity, and invites us to journey through. 5…4…3…2…1… isn’t just an EP. It’s a sonic expedition that challenges, entertains, and ultimately moves you. As I listened, I couldn’t help but think Zachary Mason isn’t escaping Earth; he’s reminding us why it’s worth saving.
Listen to “ 5…4…3…2…1…” on Spotify
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