In anyone else s hands, such a music would morph into a safe sort of ambient stroll, but Mike Cooper knows too much about where he is taking the listener to accidently leave it there. Sound is constantly rescued from its history on this album, combined in unexpected ways and intended to behave against the grain. Grasping at the familiar of the exotica, Cooper shifts and slices his way trough the fourteen tracks, shutting of a melody suddenly, combining ocean sounds with his familiar bluesy slide, or mixing bird song with 60′s sounding keys. The combinations are as welcoming as a Tahitian sunset and as surprising as the depth and complexity of the Islander people themselves. (Lisa Thatcher)
Over his lengthy career, guitar experimentalist Mike Cooper has made elevating “folk” music to the levels of creativity and freewheeling expressionism that originally propelled the genre beyond its out of the way roots and the heady cellar cafe circle echo chambers his trademark. It definitely helps that he was around and making that magic happen, in situ. When Cooper applies a similar creative tact to the very embodiment of classic exotica, the Hawaiian guitar, the result is “White Shadows Of The South Seas,” a beautifully shambolic melange that more effectively captures the solar powered crawl of beach life than many of it’s glossed over and out cultural touchpoints. Taken as a semi-sequel up to Cooper’s own Rayon Hula, it’s a satisfying expansion of the dream pop infused exotica of its predecessor. Taken on its own merits, well it’s a big, hazy, semi-super 8 and thoroughly post-colonial world out there, so take it one guitar lick at a time. (Luke Carrell)