"While we can’t say for sure who is responsible for the music, we can declare with certainty that whoever it is makes damn good music. 4/5” - URB Magazine
Fact or fiction? Is Clutchy Hopkins an alias? Or is this the true name for a reclusive musical powerhouse? Are his recordings vintage, new, or a mix of both? Some may wonder about these things, along with why some dudes have a long pinky nails or whatever happened to myspace, others may ask if any of this really matters? While the mystery surrounding the artist is no longer news, the music only gets better, maturing like a fine wine.
It’s the most varied Hopkins album to date encompassing lots of vocal textures, and a dash of worldly vibes. Check the Brazilian-psyche-like “No Contact…Contact,” and the mad spooky science of “Miles Chillin,” or the shuffling “Thinkin’ of Eva” which would sound perfectly at home playing in a Parisian café. It’s an album influenced by Hopkins time in jail, where, while in the courtyard, he met many international prisoners waiting to be deported. Lo-fi, acoustic, finger- snapping, hand-clapping, whistle-and-hummed jam sessions gave Hopkins the ideas which he later put to tape. The album booklet will include the entire story, unfiltered.