Artist: Palmflower
Link:
https://www.facebook.com/pages/PALMFLOWER/62439546408
The Breeders put on a clinic with
Mountain Battles. Songs like “German Studies” and “Istanbul,”
“Here No More” and “We're Gonna Rise,” taught solitary
singers dimensionality through vocal harmony and interplay. But that
Ohio-to-Chicago signal seemed a bit lost in transmission. Until
Palmflower. Like the Sisters Deal, Palmflower's vocals-first approach
conveys considerable charisma and charm. And though “I Write Myself
Notes” shares the same gravity-defying propulsion as the Breeders'
“Cannonball,” Palmflower cannot be relegated to the limits of
alt-rock.
Palmflower resides where ambient and
dream pop intersect. The music of Palmflower is all loose beauty –
amorphous, atmospheric, ethereal. Beholding the wonder of
Palmflower's gift is to re-train our eye permanently towards
artistry. Before, we were content to look out the window; now,
nothing less than the stained glass of Gothic cathedrals will do.
Palmflower calls itself “future church music.” Indeed.
Palmflower uses all manner of affected
guitar, organ and vocal to transform ordinary instruments into lush
soundscapes. With “Buried Under,” and not unlike the Verve's A
Storm in Heaven, Palmflower renders for us a cavernous space
reverberating with echoing guitars, vocals and sound droplets (which
gather into puddles for us to jump into or trip out on). Similarly,
and despite a hypnotizing vocal lead, it's the descending background
vocals of “Skeletons Can't Swim” that streak the night with color
like trailing fireworks.
Palmflower's song-writing mastery is
evident on “Newlywed Lovers,” which features a slow-rolling
introduction ultimately cutting drums and adding bass to begin the
song proper at :39. But it is the tension/release (1:05/1:19) of “Day
After Dead”'s pre-chorus/chorus that reaches the high bar of
“intuitive pop” Palmflower sets for itself. Few artists (save for
maybe Atlas Sound or Wild Nothing) reach such dizzying heights.
And for those convinced Neil Young's
“Like a Hurricane” is per se perfect, let's keep an open mind.
Because Palmflower did it: They did the song justice, and may even be
the preferred drug of choice for Neil Young junkies. The trick?
Letting the lyrics shine through. Because as emotive a voice as
Young's is, it is also pained, and there cannot be two focal points.
There's only one eye of the hurricane, and it took Palmflower (with
pulsing organ and minimalist guitar accent) to finally introduce
metaphorically appropriate calm.
Perhaps Palmflower will continue adding
layers a la Spiritualized. Or maybe they'll just keep charming us
with their Breeders-esque vocal superiority. Regardless, it's the
first “gospel pop” I've heard. And it is good.
*** The author of this review, Joe
Cook, plays the daul for the following band:
http://youtu.be/tMS73-1kCr8
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