Late Checkout

Chronique

On his 2017 album Across the Multiverse, singer/songwriter Dent May stitched together all the influences and sounds that ran through his previous works to come up with something magical. Glittering disco, soft-as-a-moustache soft rock, thoughtful piano balladry, and cheerful indie pop all came together in shiny nuggets of melody, with May's tender vocals and idiosyncratic lyrics adding an extra layer of sweetness. 2020's Late Checkout wisely follows the same basic template, only more confidently this time. Vocally, May has grown into a compelling presence with whimsical charm to spare, and as a producer and arranger, he's progressed even further. The album has a peaceful warmth that flows from the speakers like champagne from a bottle as the ballads gently sway, the pop songs rollick joyfully, and the disco grooves float on air as if suspended by helium. Even more than on Multiverse, Late Checkout sounds plugged into the moment in the '70s where artists like Andrew Gold or Paul Davis carved out a spot in the Venn diagram where Beatle-snappy tunes met smooth soft rock vibes and funky disco. A great many of May's contemporaries join him in a quest to turn back the clock to that wood-paneled era, but he has none of the lo-fi weirdness or ironic silliness that most of them bring to the party. His sincerity is contagious, and it makes the record easy to embrace. So do the songs, which are all high-quality gems, whether they are earnest ballads like "Full Speed Ahead" that sound ripped from the Neil Sedaka songbook; peppy numbers that are given a boost by harmony guitar leads ("I Could Use a Miracle") or May's soaring falsetto ("Sea Salt & Caramel"); or, as on "Easier Said Than Done," tunes that feature laid-back grooves that sound just right for a bit of slow-motion boogying. May definitely leveled up on Across the Multiverse, and Late Checkout bops along in the same rarefied air as he keeps right on crafting happily nostalgic pop with just the right amount of sugar sprinkled on top. The record goes down like a pastel-hued drink served with a tiny umbrella, preferably sipped on a veranda as the summer shadows begin to lengthen and a cool breeze cuts the humidity. Not too many records capture that exact feeling, so when one does it as well as Late Checkout does, it's cause to celebrate.
© Tim Sendra /TiVo