Daniel Caesar’s ‘Son of Spergy’ is a Candid New Chapter 

Toronto – born R&B singer Ashton Simmonds, better known as Daniel Caesar, has built his name on heartfelt songs following love and heartbreak — music that feels deeply personal yet widely relatable. 

His Oct. 24 album “Son of Spergy,” he offers something different — an intimate journey following the complexities of a boy’s relationship with his father. 

If his past projects capture the ache of love and loss, “Son of Spergy” feels like a reckoning, a tender, unflinching look at the boy within the man and the father who shaped him. 

The album unfolds through echoes of faith and the pulse of reggae, a soulful blend where devotion meets rhythm.

Opening track “Rain Down,” featuring British singer- songwriter Sampha, swells like a reverent choir with cascading harmonies and fragile piano notes rippling like falling rain. 

Sampha’s voice intertwines with Caesar’s repeated lines, “Lord, let your blessing rain down on me,” creating a sound that feels both like a plea to God and a call meant to be heard. 

“Have a Baby (With Me),” is another form of entreaty, this time directed at a past partner whom he want to have children with.  

“We could leave something here / It’s too late for our dreams / We can make a new dream / Have a baby with me,” Caesar sings. 

The plea transcends romantic desire, rooted instead in Caesar’s interest in immorality and legacy which renders his intentions intriguingly ambiguous. 

It’s no surprise Caesar’s deeply personal exploration of fatherhood takes a spiritual turn, given his own father is an evangelist singer, who even makes a composure feature on ethereal track “Baby Blue.”

Set against a dreamlike backing track, the song unfolds like a quiet reverie, celebrating the wonder and gratitude of being chosen by the subject of his devotion. 

The album shifts with “Root of all Evil,” a track that pairs a surprisingly upbeat rhythm with the weight of reflection on faith and sin. It feels like a confessional dialogue with God, laying bare his struggles and yearning for guidance. 

“Am I a man or a beast? / Somebody please / Discipline me / For I’m a sinner,” Caesar sings.  

Caesar is aware of his struggles with temptation. 

“I’m too drawn to the evil,” he sings, turning the song into a raw meditation on human imperfection. 

“No More Loving (On Women I Don’t Love)” reads as a direct reckoning with those same temptations, particularly his struggles with sexual desires and misuse of intimacy. 

The track unfolds as both a vow of celibacy and a quiet indictment of men who misuse God’s name for hollow relationships, revealing the emerging maturity Caesar draws from his father’s guidance. 

“No more loving on women I don’t love / Fuck these power-tripping n***** that be / lyin’ on God above / Fuck the world, ’cause / the truth is at stake,” Caesar sings. 

The confessional nature of the album continues with “Sign of the Times,” a song that sweeps listeners through a whirlwind of emotions. 

Beginning as a reflection on a romantic relationship, the story pivots to a friend who narrowly escaped a near fatal accident. Caesar contemplates the fragile balance of life and death, questioning the unseen hand that decides who is spared. 

“Sometimes I feel it / should’ve been me / inside of the passenger side / Then it would’ve been / me ‘stead of— / Is it my fault? God / decides who stays / who goes,” Caesar sings. 

The emotional pinnacle of the album arrives with “Touching God,” featuring Yebba and Blood Orange. Their voices meld into something like solemn choir, creating a reflective tapestry of faith and the quiet ache of feeling unheard by the divine. 

“Oh, Lord / Thy kingdom come / Yes, you’re an awesome God / Thy will be done” sings Yebba, referencing the words of the Our Father prayer. 

“Moon,” featuring Bon Iver, unfolds as Caesar’s quiet inner dialogue, a contemplative reflection on the person he is versus the person he aspires to be.  

“I’ll howl at the moon / I’m not who I wanna be at the moment / Maybe soon / Fighters keep fighting, I’ll fight ’til I’m blue” Caesar sings. 

The song’s second half,  violence  emerges not through sound but through tension, set against a deceptively serene backtrack. 

Caesar reflects on his relationship with his father singing, “Someday I will leave your home / I’ll bе a man, I’ll make my own / And I’ll set  this world on fire, you can’t stop mе / There I will rest my bones” in a declaration of independence. 

The final track of the album “Sins of The Father,” also featuring Bon Iver, is a hymn in which  Caesar carries the weight of his parents’ pain while offering gratitude to God for being a better father than his earthly one. 

Caesar sings “ Father, You said You’d /  love me / Like my own never could.” 

This track serves as a powerful conclusion to the album, seamlessly weaving together its central themes — faith, introspection and the complexities of his relationship with his father — leaving listeners with a sense of emotional resonance of Caesar’s journey. 

While the album can sometimes lean on the more repetitive side, what it lacks sonic variety it makes up for in vulnerability and emotional depth. It’s a record that stripes Caesar to his essence — searching, faithful and flawed, defining his new era by truth.