More than a decade later than his full-length Tiny Mirrors, the Canadian ex-Polmo Polpo (that was his early career moniker) returns with a record madid of hypnotic charge, sagacious composing technique and cutting-edge mindset.
After his years of folk-tingered tunes and unfitting mementos from other galaxies (like the beautiful The Science of Breath, 2002) this time our versatile hero softly sings his soul out in a diluted dreamlike world, through a career-defining moment, that confirms to be a power-house soaring rocket pointing at the sun.
The promised nomen-omenl-ly Soft Landing starts off with Time (You Got Me), a track that is totally driven to rapture, showing off a sonic rectitude with harmonies made of rapacious appetite for life.
In Floriana we experience the sense of water percolating through our body: the balance of the arrangement sweetly translates the beatitude of being alive. God blessed the fool hovers around a Deedly deedly dum dum that leads a lyrics the subconsciously resonates without being able to stay marked in your head. And there is no need for that: the recurrent splendor is redolent of memories we never experienced. We sit down and the blast-off takes place.
The title track is airy, those guitar- filled melodies meander in and out , gleaming with endless scenarios, its offering is vast and actually opened to interpretations.
That’s probably the album’s high-grade point: being untied to any particular lineage in its winding. Is it indie? Is it folk? Is it experimental? Ask it to Back on love, that cycles through his endless arsenal of riffs and honeyed compositions.
This indecision, at the end of the day, has long fascinated us: Mr Perris’s unwavering determination proves to be a respected representative of an unmissable watershed record, handsomely remunerated by his talent, that will surely need some sangfroid to be played live. And that will be the toughest challenge: He might be soft landing with his starlit project, but we’re still up in the air errantly floating.