If you’re drawn to life’s oddities, the peculiar details, the shadow cast beneath something heavy, and you tend to linger longer than most, then maybe your musical instincts lean the same way.
Music that unfolds slowly, feels lyrically poetic, and carries a darker undercurrent isn’t meant to be rushed; it’s meant to be savored.
The beauty of London-born multi-instrumentalist, singer, and producer Puma Blue (Jacob Allen)’s new album Croak Dream lives in his ability to stitch together disjointed fragments, loops, ambient textures, and drifting sounds, blending them into something that feels both intimate and purposeful.
The 11-track album folds trip-hop, trance, and downtempo into something quietly transformative; if you let it fully wash over you.
It’s especially affecting when heard in motion: on a train ride, or anywhere your body can fall into step with the soft, house-leaning pulse that carries it forward.
The opening track “Desire” sets a late-night tone from the start. An entrancing, repetitive guitar lick marks each cadence while Puma’s smoky vocals — gentle and sensual — cut cleanly through the haze. It’s a strong opener that feels like a thesis for the record, the kind of song that begs to be replayed.
“Mister Lost” blends spoken word with a calm, almost detached delivery, layering ambient trance textures beneath a quietly poetic look inside the psyche of a drifting character. Puma pulls the listener directly into this mindset — what they’re feeling, how they’re moving through the world — and the line “what are you escaping from, Mr. Lost” lands with particular weight for anyone unsure of their next step.
“Hold You” leans into an atmosphere that feels Portishead-coded, built on off-kilter instrumentation and a strong sense of negative space. The arrangement stays minimal yet textured, allowing the sparse sonic backdrop to carry as much weight as the vocal. Lyrically reflective, the track weaves in ambient loops that resemble tearing, screeching, and scraping against hard surfaces, echoing the cold reality of being unable to be with someone. The line “I’ll never hold you, oh the things I never told you” lands with quiet fragility, a striking contrast to the stark instrumentation surrounding it.
The title track “Croak Dream” feels like a subtle departure from the previous moment, moving forward with a quiet pulse. It still leans industrial through its instrumental palette, but Puma’s vocal delivery, paired with a lingering touch of vibrato, pulls you in and makes every line feel worth holding onto. The top-line melody and revving strummed guitar build a sense of reckoning, something slowly coming into focus. It’s gently powerful, like a strong wave carrying a swimmer farther from shore. Before you realize it, you’re already out at sea.
Soft and sweet, “(Fool)” gently rolls in like an antique love song with up close and personal vocals and lyrics that are picturesque, dreamy, and romantic. It’s groovy, alt R&B, and gorgeous in its simplicity.
Jumping to “Cocoons,” a personal favorite on the record, the track feels both symbolically and sonically sensual, unfolding with a softness that’s undeniably beautiful.
It opens on a dissonant string melody before Puma’s layered harmonies enter, repeating “we share the same moon, we share the same moon, each drop of perfume, each drop of perfume.” The refrain is addictive and all-consuming, capturing the quiet intoxication of romance with a hypnotic pull.
All in all, Croak Dream is something to make time for because it makes time for you, living in the space and tension of each track and the clean, in-the-pocket grooves that keep you locked into the rhythm until Puma sings again. It’s an album steeped in gentle expression, tinged with a late-night blue, and perfect for moving through love lost or love gained.
