For weeks he has been floating in the pool, this fifth album, as if he was living his life without any concern to exist in the world where new releases are rushing. The intro of Pearl seems to literally come out of the water, but just a little, for the duration of a soulful song. The purpose ofI Don’t Talk to My Mother is damn serious (breakups), but the rhythm dances over it like a little aquatic ballet. Bobby Basini refuses guilty drowning. The arrangements and music of Connor Seidel (the regular collaborator, landscape champion of record making) provide such well-being, particularly in the sumptuous Turn Bluethe evanescent Living Againthe dreamer Lavender (with its choirs and flute stamped 1972), that we forget the underlying drama, the broken heart trying to put the pieces back together. Schizophrenic album? A little. Pleasant album against all odds, which refuses to be anywhere other than an infinite summer. Balm for the soul and cream against life’s UV rays. This is a legitimate choice: not to suffer. Surface.
To watch on video