Polmo Polvo (Sandro Perri) has created a brilliant, yet densely thick conceptual work that fills the room with deep rhythm. “Mid Breathing” is a cauldron of bubbly, low-level whir that is gray-all-over. Things change on the sultry beat of “Acqua” where the image is of an Ibiza club-darling atmosphere, but from a longing distance. This saucy beat goes for an aerobic nine minutes, not drawing too much attention to itself. Gone are the clichés of nightclub turntablist dreams of “Overnight Rave Success”. Here we have a simulation of a club sound, minus the smartly dressed gang of usual suspects. “Low Breathing”, once again, is a low-fi sizzle and quake build-up to rottura which is a dreamy road song. There’s a half hygienic, half comatose feeling in the air here. Lazy, drifting beats, so moody and blessed, making the listener seem like a separate entity. This is a warm sound, however. I can’t help but image a snowglobe, and its sense of containment of another entire world. That’s what can be heard on The Science of Breath. A true sense of capture. On complete breath things open up a bit while staying quietly focused, yet, reeling a bit. At the end of the disc we are brought to the floor on the “Frisky Riva”. If not to dance, to ponder the floor under our feet and how we balance ourselves on surfaces. Maybe there is something to The Science of Breath, of weight, of distance.
