Sis and the Lower Wisdom Shares New Single 'Crocus Man'
- Curious For Music Team
- 12 hours ago
- 2 min read

In a time when the lines between genres are dissolving into liquid light, Sis and the Lower Wisdom emerge as a singular constellation.
Their latest chapter, “Saints and Aliens,” drifts gracefully between the earthly and the celestial, guided by the steady, intuitive hand of Jenny Gillespie Mason — a singer, producer, and multi-instrumentalist whose music has always been a dialogue between the intimate and the infinite. It’s an album that looks up at the stars but keeps its feet gently on the ground, celebrating life on this spinning blue world with reverence and curiosity.
What began as Mason’s solitary studio explorations has blossomed into a shimmering collective effort, an ensemble of LA-based players united by spirit and sound. Together, they form the Lower Wisdom, a name that captures the Gnostic paradox at the heart of Mason’s music — that divine insight must descend to be truly known. Their approach is organic yet visionary: jazz-touched, psych-washed, and devotional without dogma. Each track breathes as if alive, an unfolding meditation on connection, loss, and wonder.
The second single from the album, “Crocus Man,” distills this ethos beautifully. It’s a song that feels both grounded and airborne — an iridescent drift through Rhodes piano clouds, anchored by supple basslines and brushed with brass and percussion that shimmer like late sunlight on water. There’s a sense of deep trust in the musicianship here, each instrument orbiting the others with intuitive grace before resolving into luminous harmony.
Mason describes “Crocus Man” as a love letter to a dear friend, written high above the continent between New York and San Francisco — a hymn to friendship, resilience, and the bright endurance of kindness. That sincerity glows in the performance. You can hear the spark of memory, the tenderness of flight, the human pulse beneath the cosmic expanse. It’s as if the track were channeling both the ache and joy of existence in a single, extended breath.
For listeners drawn to the emotional intelligence of The Weather Station, the textural beauty of Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith, or the spiritual luminosity of Alice Coltrane, “Crocus Man” is a quiet revelation. As anticipation builds for “Saints and Aliens” this January, the song offers a glimpse of an artist — and a collective — unafraid to journey inward and outward at once, crafting music that moves through galaxies yet lands gently in the heart.