Fernando Perdomo 2016 / 2026
Exposing the creative processes many prefer to keep concealed, American tunesmith mines the hidden depths of his own psyche.
Voyeurs:
10th Anniversary Edition
There’s a sense of Fernando Perdomo losing himself – not in terms of total abandon, which is always present, but through a dissolution of personality – in the relentless writing and recording he has been pursuing for more than a decade now. Between Perdomo’s numerous collaborations, where his visage appears as part of an interface required for working with other musicians, immaculate appropriation of various players’ styles, and instrumental projects that are mere mirrors of his sentiments, seeing the real Fernando seemed nigh on impossible. Glimpses into his genuine soul are rare, yet they exist, and this platter may be a prime example of such an instance. Despite the plural form, its very title – “Voyeurs” – suggests the revelation was well considered, and given the record resulted from the indefatigable performer’s real-time streams, the man consciously allowed the world to witness the act of creation. Hence, perhaps, the cover artwork destined to remind the audience of the Shroud of Turin – and a one-decade-anniversary reissue of the minor classic.
Freshly remixed to bring out the songs’ shine and expanded not only with the original seven-track addendum – where vocals are almost absent and where the thunderously triumphant titular cut takes pride of place – but also with a smattering of contemporary concert relics, including five of the album’s pieces, this release will peel back the many artistic layers Perdomo has acquired since the record’s first appearance. In hindsight, its alluringly warm opener “The One You Run To” – whose acoustic shimmer, penetrating bootleg-quality sound, is enhanced on The Troubadour stage by piano ripples – may refer to the inner core Fern is reaching for, rather than to the object of his love interest’s advances, yet there’s striking outgoing sincerity in the electric uplift of “Holding Back I Love You’s” whose many nuances, blues-hued in live rendition, are psychedelically impressive. So while the guitar-heavy melodic blasts of “Sequence 0045” demonstrate Perdomo’s experimental intent without stripping off their pop-polish and the organ-bolstered waves of “Cruiser” roll towards tasty prog rock, the frisky “Sunday Afternoon” taps into folk and the translucent “Waltz For Doug Burris” makes a foray into baroque.
However, if the Beatlesque “Something’s Missing” plays with stereo panning before bursting into a dramatic hymn to friendship and, in front of the audience, serving up a “Within You Without You” quote, the groovy “Stay With The Friends” turns raga into a lighthearted paean to the best feelings all of us harbor, and the insistently throbbing “Smile” picks up where a certain Chaplin perennial left off. And whereas “Home” marries poetic musing to exquisite balladry Tony Banks would approve of, “Angel” explores harmonies in a way only Fernando could fashion.
With the whopping twenty-three pieces and a concert cover of Chris Bell’s “I Am The Cosmos” – sung so passionately that it hurts – the return of “Voyeurs” is satisfying to say the least.
*****
