Turin to Toronto may not seem like the natural pipeline for indie lounge lizards, but a moment’s reflection draws out the potential fit; sleek, funky arrangements; literate, verbose musings on life at turns anxious and nonchalant; a throwback focus on the man with the mic. Connecting the dots yet? Me neither. Nevertheless, Daniel Colussi has an effortless charm that polishes these meandering songs into worthwhile shape despite the occasional lack of focus.

The centrepiece comes, unconventionally, towards the end of the album with ‘A Rambling Prayer.’ Perfectly true to its title, this is pure chorus-less chaos, a higgledy piggledy word vomit with wanky gems like “time heals everything…except wounds.” It’s almost eight minutes long, full of saxophone, and sounds like modern-era Dylan in the best possible way. Do I hear a euphonium? You bet. It’s one of the best songs here.

Bitter Sweet, Sweet Bitter is elegant and maximalist, achieving a velvety jazz-rock style that took Dan Bejar over a decade to master. Not that Colussi is quite there yet – the clunker to prophetic ratio in the lyrics is way off – but the violins that gild the tasteful guitar solo on ‘Full of Fire’ shows someone who’s learnt a thing or two from Tindersticks. ‘Call Me An Author’ shows that strings can be fun rather than austere window-dressing with its jaunty cello, and ‘A Perfect Pair’ brings out the synths as any indie band from Toronto is legally obligated to do eventually.

‘Beware’ is a duet with Victoria Cheong that comes across like a grimmer, but funkier, version of the Baz Luhrmann classic (???): ‘Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen).’ There are sage chin-scratchers like “Beware of false borders / Beware of absolutes” but also hip-shaking licks from a Rhodes piano so it stays a bit more Funkadelic than Foucault.

If the album title, or the weird two-headed dog on the album cover, hadn’t tipped you off, this is an album of competing dualities: beauty and the grotesque, dread and ecstasy etc. Sometimes these lead to shifts in theme and style that feel arbitrary or forced (the unnecessary instrumental breathers), but they generally point to an artist with a diverse palette and penchant for experimental tinkering.

This is Colussi’s fourth album under the Fortunato moniker and it isn’t perfect, but it’s authentic in a way that’s unafraid to move outside of the zeitgeist, safe in the knowledge that a meaningful connection with those willing to put in the effort is worth more than superficial nods from the algorithm.