GIORGIO TUMA
In The Morning We'll Meet
Elefant
On this, his third LP, Italian songwriter, singer and instrumentalist Tuma creates a dappled, multi-layered world of sound that manages to be simultaneously innocent and knowing, rapturous and reflective, nostalgic and yet utterly contemporary. There are traces of Tim Hollier's melancholic baroque chamber pop here, hints of The High Llamas, maybe even a sniff of early Sufjan Stevens, yet the whole record is so lush and lovely and unique that a hunt for antecedents seems almost blasphemous. The 16 pieces here feel more like sketches than songs, and bleed into each other in ever-darkening hues. The pace never quickens beyond the majestically slow; orchestras swoon; horns swell; guitars reverb into the purpling dusk. The man himself has stated that his goal with this record was "to describe the concept of innocence: childhood memories, dreams, the start and finish of an important love story, the sensation of hearing Pet Sounds while sitting in a room on December the 24th with only the Christmas tree lights on.” Happysad indeed.
Hugh Dellar