EVER SINCE HE can remember, Brooks Mason has felt like an old soul in a young body. When he was six, his parents put him in therapy after he insisted that he’d been reincarnated. He showed up at high school parties with a copy of The London Howlin’ Wolf Sessions under his arm. “My friends would be playing Lil Wayne and metal and stuff, and I’d put on Howlin’ Wolf,” he says. “At first, they were like, ‘What the hell are you doing?’ Then they’d listen and they dug it. I told them, ‘You’re listening to the new rap, but Howlin’ Wolf was doing his own kind of rap back in the day. It blew their minds.”
Mason didn’t last long in