Bermuda Waterfall

While Savage remains the same bleary-eyed and soft-hearted crooner he always has been, Bermuda Waterfall feels far more widescreen than anything he’s done before.

The record harnesses its emotional resources to grant the listener the sweet spectacle of watching self-awareness disintegrate as the artist wriggles free from postmodern detachment, and rediscovers that most undervalued asset: his vulnerability.

This is yet another different side we’re seeing, but it’s no less special.

He’s a self-proclaimed lover of Cyndi Lauper and a proud balladeer with a knack for writing glimmering melodies.

Bermuda Waterfall was written for his friends, whom he memorializes on "Hangin On" for being so thoughtful as to wonder when he might be coming to a party. That's the type of inconsequential, commonplace interaction that sometimes means the world to an individual, and Savage’s ability to locate an oasis of connection in a desert of heartbreak is what makes Bermuda Waterfall endearing rather than irritating.

Along with the pseudo-bossa nova rhythms of "Naturally" and rolling melodic synth pop of "Heartless," the album takes gradual steps forward and shakes out to be one of Savage's more consistent collections.

On Bermuda Waterfall, Savage has taken a real step forward, proving beyond reasonable doubt that he's a fine songwriter; he just needs a little more instrumental refinement, and perhaps a slightly more nuanced understanding of his strongest vocal suit, before he's truly mixing it with the big boys of throwback pop.