Fernando Perdomo 2025
To expand emotional horizons: American composer finds new ways to blend feelings into seascape.
Waves 3
Fernando Perdomo would be hard-pressed to select most outstanding moments from his monthly installments of marine-themed albums once a time comes to compile the “Best Of ‘Waves'” – and the American master will have to do that in order to entice the audience into investigating this series – because, with sustained quality of melodies and performances, cherry-picking might prove extremely difficult. Fern’s options are not limited, though, and he can approach it all through the aspect of stylistic variety, for the pieces which form the third chapter of Perdomo’s saga slightly differ from the preceding record where surf-rock elements seemed deliberately latent only to become almost prevalent now. More so, here he’s managed to venture beyond merely descriptive character of instrumental paintings and moved towards incorporating purer sentiments into them – as if there was ever any need for suffusing such contexts with serenades.
To feel this, the listener must not go further than the platter’s opener, the slily titled, slide-rolling “True Passion Is Like A Storm” that, blistering as it is in terms of delivery, crosses a five-minute barrier to linger and be the longest, yet strategically the least impressive, number on offer – perfectly placed to set the scene for what will follow. And what will follow may undermine the entire voiceless angle of Fernando’s concept by allowing sublime ballads like the twangy “Anything For You” or harmonies-boasting “The Fifth” to overflow with warm yearning and beg to get turned into proper songs without actually requiring verbal veneer. But while the resonant, jazz-tinged “Lifeline” streams romantic intent via its mélange of tune, tone and backdrop effects, and the ruminative “Safe Harbor” swells ever so elegantly, the acoustically laced “The Mayan (for David Crosby)” demonstrates exquisite, raw-nerve translucence, and the merry, bass-riding “Dos Mutantes” brings Tropicália-scented psychedelia into the present.
Still, “The Gulf” is a bit skin-deep in comparison with the heart-tugging atmosphere that “Heaven Appears Before You” exudes with a shimmer and with the motorik “Pacific Coast Highway” that bristles with riffs to bring it all to a streamlined close. However, skin-deep thinness might be the quintessence of this record.
****3/5
