“The United States loves a hero, preferably masked and leading a double life.” This is how a writer for the London-based publication the Independent opened an article on The Legend of Zorro in 2005, and those words have stuck with me. It definitely feels true. Zorro. Spider-Man. Every contestant on The Masked Singer. What is it with our obsession with masks and heroes living double lives?
It would be easy to write off the mask worn by rising crooner Orville Peck as a gimmick. But that would be the wrong way to look at it. For Peck, this isn’t just a mask—it’s an entire persona. Like Zorro’s bandit mask or Nicolas Cage’s snakeskin jacket in Wild at Heart (a symbol of “individuality” and a “belief in personal freedom,” as Cage repeats, over and over), Orville Peck’s long fringed mask is an extension of the man. A phantom limb of his personality.
Signed by Sub Pop late last year, Peck released his debut country album, Pony, in March. The 12-track LP is a lush, dreamy journey careening through tales of gay hustlers and conflicted lovers. Peck’s twangy howling is simultaneously intimidating and romantic—enigmatic, like his mask.
