Fernando Perdomo 2025
Waves 9
Weaving new visions in his waterside views, indefatigable performer evokes smiles and middle-distance pondering.
It’s easy to assume that, three quarters into his twelve-album project of a year-long length, Fernando Perdomo would begin to wind it all down, but defying such assumptions has been this artist’s method for years. Hence, the American multi-instrumentalist transformed his approach on the ninth volume of “Waves” ever so slightly as to plot a few fresh tricks, which are bound to keep the listener satisfied, but the overall shift of what’s on offer here is almost seismic. Sometimes turning literal and other times switching я customary prospect to introduce an unusual angle, the next batch of Fern’s tracks must make the audience think as well as feel – no mean feat for a wordless platter – allowing Perdomo to restore magic to the titular number and lead the crowd towards the sunset with a stunned look on their faces.
Not for nothing the record’s opener “Are You Out There?” poses a question, probing the space for the presence of his followers by unfolding a low-pitch, if fragile, soundscape into cathedral-solemn twang of soul-shattering grandeur and shooting it through with a folk-fine filigree. Of course, the wonder will be installed only to get broken via the grotesquely named “Possibly The First Progressive Rock Song Inspired Directly By The Village People” whose organ-bolstered, mighty groove is embroidered with furious riffs, but that’s necessary – in order to see the album’s entire drift. Given the “Waves” artwork, the images which moved Fernando to start the whole thing, and his “Out To Sea” series, one’s predisposed to perceive Perdomo’s musical cycles as maritime-themed, yet the echoing “Lady Lake” – placed between the dramatically muscular ripples of “Riptide” and sparsely elegiac sonic droplets of the finale, “Lighthouse” – changes the perspective in favor of less expansive, new-age-like ethereality.
There’s no better description for the composer’s procedure on display than “Emotion Attains Physical Form”: attached to a dynamically outstanding piece that layers arresting details upon riveting motifs, this phrase should become Fernando’s motto. Still, the pensive “Desolation Desperation” focuses on guitar anguish with a shimmering hope, while “Rays Of Life” adds acoustic lace to the mood palette to stress the lively spirituality of it all, unlike “Digital Raindrops” which chimes with experimental intent until “To Infinity” goes mind-numbingly cosmic without losing an iota of beauty. A major achievement, despite a few minor-key twists.
*****
