Sandro Perri - Impossible Spaces (CD)

You may be more familiar with Sandro Perri's work under the Polmo Polpo moniker. I missed the boat on his previous material under his own name so this is actually the first I've heard of it. He's certainly moved on since putting out his drone classic 'Like Hearts Swelling' a decade or so back. Impossible Spaces is a richly diverse record, led by his silky and soulful vocals. Opener 'Changes' is an instrumental almost Mark Mothersbaugh-esque exercise in repetitive synth textures that's totally uplifting. After that his crooning takes centre stage as he constructs a dense broth of experimental pop where gliding synths and liquid guitars rub up against all manner of instruments - bass clarinet, flute, sax, euphonium...it's like somewhere between Jean-Claude Vannier and a much less annoying Dirty Projectors. Toronto, Perri's hometown, is a city close to my heart, and I think this feels like an album that couldn't have come from anywhere else. Equal parts restless and melancholic, when it gets jazzy it's playful without being showy, and there's always an undercurrent of slowed down old funk/r'n'b perceptible beneath the veil of wistfulness. The mix of soul and downbeat indie actually kind of reminds me of his label-mate Pat Jordache, but this relies on painstakingly crafted and crystal clear textures rather than lo-fi fuzz to achieve the desired atmospheres. The way he's taken elements of pre-'77 pop (back when virtuosity wasn't so frowned on) and placed it in his own context is awe-inspiring. Talents like Sandro Perri don't come along every day, he should be treasured.