It’s been five years since Xavier Omär last gave us a full-length album, but on HunnyMoon Mountain, he doesn’t just return—he ascends. The project feels like the spiritual sequel to if You Feel, but instead of merely navigating emotions, Omär now scales them. Released independently via XO Creative Club, HunnyMoon Mountain is an R&B record shaped more by topography than topology—this is a landscape of longing, doubt, resilience, and fragile hope, all stretched across 37 minutes of focused introspection.
From the opening chords of “Miserable” featuring Samoht, Xavier Omär invites us into the murky middle of a love story that’s far from fairytale. His voice quivers with conviction as he sings, “I am miserable with you, baby… I wanna reach that mountain, climbing with you.” That single line holds the mission statement of the album: loving someone deeply doesn’t mean the road will be smooth, but maybe it’s worth the risk if the view is right.
What follows is a series of emotionally charged pit stops that document the faltering and flourishing of intimacy. Tracks like “The One That I Fell For” hit with the quiet devastation of watching someone you love become someone you barely recognize. It’s not overwrought. It’s not trying too hard. It just sits with you—like a cold truth you already knew but didn’t want to say out loud.
Where Omär excels is in his ability to hold contradiction. On the J. Robb-produced “Take Her Love,” he owns up to his mistakes with a self-awareness that’s rare in male-fronted R&B. “I told my baby I don’t need her, that was stupid,” he sings, the beat softly nodding in agreement. It’s not a flex. It’s a confession, and it hits all the harder for it.
The album’s production is minimal but not empty. Each track feels carefully constructed to support Omär’s storytelling, whether it’s the reggae-laced groove of “Take Her Love” or the static-soaked yearning in “Afraid, Pt. 2.” There’s a consistent fogginess here—not a lack of clarity, but a deliberate aesthetic choice that matches the themes of confusion and vulnerability. Love, after all, is rarely seen in HD.
Xenia Manasseh, Jai’Len Josey, and Divine Lightbody bring welcome depth to the album’s soundscape, their contributions never overshadowing but always enhancing. These are not features for the sake of name drops—they’re genuine collaborators in Omär’s sonic pilgrimage.
The final track, “The Moments I’ve Had With You,” closes the album like a campfire at the summit. After all the emotional weather, Omär sits down, breathes, and takes in the view. “Once again, I’d do / Every moment I’ve had with you.” It’s a lyric that doesn’t promise perfection but reaffirms the journey’s worth.
HunnyMoon Mountain doesn’t shout. It doesn’t chase trends. It climbs—steadily, patiently, intentionally. In an era when many R&B artists are sprinting toward whatever sound catches an algorithm, Omär chooses the harder path. He carries the weight of honesty, and in doing so, gives us one of the most emotionally resonant R&B albums of the year.
