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revenge of palomar |
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Palomar's smart, modern, transcontinental
pop songs owe a greater debt to New York City's superior record
stores than to any other aspect of the scene. The three sweethearts
of downtown NYC probably have long-cherished copies of Dolly
Mixture, Flatmates and Liliput LPs stashed among their more current
faves, but the trio's songs are well-informed rather than derivative,
since both melodies and lyrics bubble up from a fountain belonging
to no one but Rachel, Sasha and Matt (this is a first-names-only
kind of band). Using the sweetness of '80s U.K. girl bands and
the punk's-not-dead, razorcut guitars of Olympiad women of yore,
Palomar overstuff their thee-minute songs with hook upon hook
in a way that makes you want to root for them. We can even forgive
the way the lead singer hits her high notes exactly like the
girl from Girls At Our Best! It makes sense that this NYC
punk-pop trio borrowed its name from a telescopic observatory
- Palomar spend a lot of time gazing at stars, not shoes. Their
gritty string strumming and anthemic deliveries are downright
optimistic, and their lyrics, while not exactly upbeat, are certainly
ballsy and honest. "Why don't you just sit at home alone?"
screams singer/guitarist Rachel in "Slingshot" over
a steady rise of backing vocals, "That way I'd be sure you
wouldn't bother anybody else." Their self-titled, self-released,
self-assured CD places casual (but not careless) lo-fi production
next to rising rock and never looks down. ...Also, do check out NYC trio
Palomar, a witty, angular distortion of estrogen rock from the
Waitresses on down to the Rondelles. On their self-titled debut,
it's impossible not to pretend it's 1984 all over again, and
that such a thing as post-punk exists. It's a pleasant diversion,
but altogether saddening. But Palomar are able to divert this
with the genius touch of simply playing their nitrous anthems
even faster and singing them even higher. You will be astounded
to find that this technique actually works. Palomar plays sweetly sloppy,
quick-beat pop in an old-school-4AD kinda way. They write innocent
songs like they are in a bubble, unafraid to switch from a surfed
out song to one that is straight nerdy Devo quirk. The first
song "Washington" (hey, isn't that a Sean Na Na song?)
is a good representation of Palomar with its huge, sing along
chorus and manic changes. I have to say that some of the vocal
stylings on this record kinda made me cringe at first. But the
monotone female singing is made for by lyrics that read like
a junior high diary. Usually, it's fairly easy to
get a feel for an indie rock album within the first minute or
so, but not so with NYC's Palomar, a band that seems to pull
new tricks out of their sleeves at every stop of the way. For
example, the opening "Washington" sounds first like
heavy math rock, then throws in a surprisingly poppy sing-along
or two, and by the end, everything from New Bad Things to Sleater-Kinney
is coming to mind. Then, the following "Angel" is a
totally British-sounding anthem full of comic angst and pretty-turned-snide
vocals, which further adds to the puzzle of Palomar. But it turns
out that all fourteen of these songs share at least some unifying
qualities - fervent pacing, sharp dynamic changes, playfully
bitter lyrics, and super-catchy vocal harmonies. With all that
going for this relatively young band, I'm truly sorry that I
missed their recent Philly show. But I have the feeling that
we'll be hearing a lot more from Palomar. I swear that I met Palomar's
drummer Matt at this year's Noisepop festival. I believe I was
introduced to him at the Apples In Stereo/Versus show and if
I remember correctly he was very nice and wearing a cool old-school
10cc shirt. Not that any of this is really important, mind you
-- it's just slightly interesting in a semi-related sort of way.
Of actual importance is Palomar's music, which for the most part
is delivered in fiendishly fevered blasts of girl/girl/guy pop-punk.
Their self-titled debut album gives you the impression that the
band had somewhere to be half an hour before they began recording,
so to compensate they played every song at twice its normal speed
-- and twice as loud, too, for good measure. Judging by the results,
this is a practice that more bands might want to think about
adopting while in the studio. Standout tracks include the brutish
opener "Washington," the wickedly melodic chug of "British
Spelling" and the brilliantly-titled slow burn of "Sharp
Stick In the Eye." All that potent pop-punk is crammed into
a mere half-hour, which still leaves you with 23 and a half hours
to kill --unless you keep hitting the repeat button. There's a song on New York trio
Palomar's debut full-length that merits hitting the repeat button:
"Slingshot," an early-90s-Teenbeat-sounding pop song
with a fast chorus, great crashing drums and exquisite boy/girl
harmonies. "Slingshot" is proof that there could be
great things ahead for Palomar. However, this album as a whole
has its ups and downs: other ups include "50 Second,"
"Robert" and "Sits Like a Girl," while downs
jump in when the vocals get whiny. The highlight of this group
is drummer Matt Houser, who pounds the skins with conviction
and adds some nice backup vocals. While this disc is hit or miss,
Palomar are definitely headed in the right direction. Super energetic and sassy punk/pop
music like an angry Poundsign (the Alicia songs) or a less song-y
Tiger Trap. Her creaky, comedic-thespian yelps are alternately
totally fitting and awkwardly irritating, so here and there it
all falls flat, but with all sorts of sundry bashing and shambling,
they're bound to get it right sometimes. And they do. There's
some wonderfully punchy guitar all over this ("Washington"
is great!) and when they get all quirky and Lung-Leggy it's pretty
darn fun. Rachel and Sasha from the NYC
grrl-pop group Trixie Belden team up with drummer Matt Houser
in Palomar. Rachel's squeaky-high vocals can take a bit of getting
used to, just as they did in Trixie Belden, but beyond that,
there's nothing but pleasure in this trio's sassy garage-rock
tunes, frenetic rhythms and indie-pop love songs. It's even more
fun when Matt and Rachel trade off on vocals, like on the energetically
spastic "Robert," which sounds like X on Helium and
Methedrine. This is what the grrls on "Dawson's Creek"
would be bopping to at the next sleepover if they had any taste. Give me a Pail O' More! |