Sam Blasucci

The second solo album from Sam Blasucci again distances him from the folk and country touches of Mapache. Still hung in the AOR haze and sequined slink of the ‘70s, the album crafts fourteen swooning pop numbers that sublimate soul and disco into the kind of wide-collar singer-songwriter treasures that populated the era. Along with producer Johnny Payne, Blasucci doubles down on the smooth textures and reclines into the velour corners of the pop pantheon. Songs waft across the conversation pit, curl through the air, unbutton another button, and glint off of the mirrored glass of the past.

The album glides past its touchstones, never holding on tightly but picking up a bit of scent in the process. Holland-era Beach Boys hues slip through Mink Hollow Rundgren touches. A curl of jazz flute snakes through the speakers on “Behind Closed Eyes,” and raglan saxes permeate “Clean Up Nice” and “Witching Hour.” The album peaks with the kind of pop-meets-chamber experiment (“Prayers In The Dark”) that used to find Van Dyke Parks hiding under the mixing desk, before tumbling back towards quicksilver pop once more. It’s an album for the deep crate crawlers, looking for the kind of albums that were built for mahogany encased presentation. The album is meticulous, but never sterile. It’s just the kind of album that’ll find its fans near the Fagan and Becker boarder, headphones on and lights turned low.