Alex Cameron discovers a sense of self-awareness on Forced Witness

But if you were to hear Cameron's debut, you would think quite the opposite of this facade. Cameron's songs on Jumping the Shark were comical, intense and exceedingly focused, which made it unclear as to how Cameron could adopt a "failed" alter-ego. There was nothing but promise between every note, paving the way for a modern man with an extremely specific mystique and poise.

If Jumping the Shark exploited Cameron's dismissive alter-ego, then Forced Witness feels like a man who has finally found a sense of self awareness, getting a grip on his true potential as an artist hiding in the shadows for all these years. Cameron lets his vocal range soar on Forced Witness, where he not only expands his flat, baritone vocals, but the instrumentations that surround it, which grow increasingly ambitious and complex. His signature style, often dark and clandestine, gets left behind for a brighter take on lengthier and more traditional song structures.

Forced Witness immediately presents itself with a handful of strong pop songs, songs that are remarkably sharp for an artist who only has a debut album under their belt. But perhaps the strongest aspect - and a highlight - of the album is his duet with indie-powerhouse Angel Olsen, "Stranger's Kiss," a balls-to-the-wall pop ballad that is clearly a focal point. If "Stranger's Kiss" does anything for Cameron, it reinstates his position in the indie world, a bright up-and-comer that easily deceives the listener into believing that he is in fact an industry veteran. The video for "Stranger's Kiss" is directed by actress/director Jemima Kirke, another facet of Cameron racking up his credibility – he's a man who wants you to believe that he's been a rockstar all along.

But Cameron's rock-stardom didn't come without a fight, or so he wants you to think. These songs on Forced Witness feel effortless, constantly blurring the line of absolute genius and slightly perverted, occasionally crude and increasingly witty. Cameron transcends from somebody who, originally, preferred style over substance, and breaks through as an artist who delivers the ideal balance of style and substance. On "Studmuffin96," Cameron's bizarre humor is right there in the title, but he ultimately finds himself "Waiting undercover / Waiting for my lover," taking the online alias as "Studmuffin96," in search of a more profound love. "Marlon Brando" finds Cameron returning to his old synth ways, looking like the titular actor "circa '99". Stating "You tell that faggot call me faggot one more time", Cameron forgets that Brando hasn't been a gangster since '74. You start the understand the idea of how Cameron looks at himself, or at least his alter ego.

Cameron's obscure blend of synth-pop and neo-electronica, along with his dark, lurking persona seem to fit the criteria of a background character of a David Lynch film. There's something about Cameron that makes you want to learn more and more about him, creating a perfect illusion that there's more to his act than his music and his presence. However, his darkness gracefully fades on Forced Witness, an album that is clearly not as focused as Jumping the Shark, but rather, an album that broadens Cameron's horizons as, not only a musician, but as a showman. The mystery of Alex Cameron continues to be unsolved, but after Forced Witness, his identity and place in the indie world seems to be much clearer, and at times, all the more impressive.