Is this perhaps the only example of a bedroom aesthetic that's come full circle? Rhythmic, bedsit soul - probably composed whilst perched on a mattress - that seems sonically intended to soundtrack an intimate writhing session between the sheets. Either way, it's the mark of Montreal's Sean Nicholas Savage transcending his troubadour-on-warped-cassette sound (2011's Flamingo) in favour of something honeyed, smooth and, at times, seductive.

Sleek and a little sexy, it's a clear departure from his previous release (of nine) and quite understandably when you consider that, in the time since it dropped to an encouraging response, fellow Canadian and tour mate Mac DeMarco partially pilfered its approach, taking its skewed vision to another level. Subsequently, Other Life sees its creator turn genteel groover and arty, hit-maker (Phil Collins for people who dangle analog cameras around their scruff in the name of fashion), as if to reassert his savvy in a city overflowing with critic fodder.

The results are pretty consistent, but not always riveting; starting strong, but losing their grip as the track list unfolds like a drawn-out handshake. It, in fact, climaxes too early with the sublime 'She Looks Like You'. Borrowing the chord strides of Cyndi Lauper's 'True Colours', the opener explores its protagonist's vulnerability; "Look in the mirror/What do I see?/I'm just a circumstance wearing a mask," he coos, over sparkling keyboards and sparse thuds. It's really rather affecting, especially when followed by the delicately ear-worming 'Other Life' and the Nelly and Kelly-ish 'Lonely Woman' - both coupling the sort of RNB percussion you might find lurking on a Toni Braxton ballad with his starkly confessional croon. Similarly, 'More Than I Love Myself'(s) vague whiff of George Michael is easily the record's most upbeat, whilst the Rodriguez-like 'You Changed Me' bridges the gap nicely between his previous incarnation and his new one.

Sadly, a few clangers mar the early progress; 'Like A Baby'(s) opening gambit alone is sickly enough to have you clawing for the skip button, before the nauseating 'Bygone Summer' rears its head some tracks later. In fact, the latter is like the musical equivalent of a wrinkled elder interrupting the love-in with a pile of your freshly washed threads and a homemade toad in the hole; it's quite unwanted and an instant moment killer. Equally, the consecutive meandering of 'Look At Me' and 'It's Real' also stunt any well-built momentum with some needless styling and distinct lack of hooks.

In conclusion, Other Life feels patchy; a work in progress that initially offers a solid template, before getting bored of itself. Shame, because had he been able to mirror it's first half promise, Sean Nicholas Savage may well have finally grabbed the plaudits he deserves for his considerable work ethic.