Biography
Palomar formed a few years ago in Brooklyn and got their name from an observatory in California. Their first, self-titled album, won them comparisons to Seattle's Fastbacks and England's Talulah Gosh. Palomar II was recorded a couple of years later, and released on The Self-Starter Foundation. Their third record, Palomar III: Revenge of Palomar was completed and scheduled to be released on Kindercore Records when Kindercore closed its doors due to sudden financial inadequacy. Despite the major setback, the record was released the following year on The Self-Starter Foundation. After touring and the release of an EP, Palomar began writing and recording a new LP with producer Britt Myers. All things, forests is the fruit of their labor and marks a major step forward for Palomar.
The themes and tone of the album are front and center early on: wry humor in the face of disappointment, optimism mingled with weariness and a touch of earned anger. "Bury Me Closer" eases us into the album with a lullaby about death. Rachel Warren's vocals are encased in narcotic three and four part harmonies as a buoyant bassline drives the song through a field of burbling organ, guitar, and ukelele. Drummer Dale W. Miller keeps time with just a bucket and what sounds like a keychain. The overt beauty of the opener makes "Our Haunt" that much more striking as a gust of feedback is unleashed over a tense minor chord to start the song. The defacto first single off the album, “Our Haunt” piles hook on top of hook, turning itself inside out as it mirrors the lyric’s struggle to accept the death of a friendship with the repeated chorus "Walk on, walk on." "How to Beat Dementia" juxtaposes unabashed major key rock with melancholy vocals numbed by the too-swift passage of time. Christina Prostano and Rachel Warren's guitar and keyboard parts feature smartly entangled melodies and occasional just-so jaggedness but they also know when to lay back and let Sarah Brockett's McCartneyesque bass shine through. The song ends in a sustained explosion of intricate melodies that are gradually peeled away until a lone keyboard echoes against an insistent, slowly fading beat.
The album builds momentum and potency as it moves into its second half. "Beats Beat Nothing" highlights the poignancy of Warren's lyrics and the perfection in her delivery of them: "Look back: We’re like everyone you'll find, we're nice when it suits us but terrible sometimes." The epic weariness of "Bridge of Sighs" is a revelation here as Warren laments, "Do we all just stand in line so they can turn us down?" and "Launched too late to aim for the stars, I know we don't feel bad, cause we're never going to have to fall very far." The paradox of the album is that just as you get swept away by the hooks, you find yourself caught up in the lyrics. It makes you feel like you are the greatest person ever and that you might just fall apart at any second.
Palomar demonstrate a distinct clarity on All things, forests, expressing the tangled feelings of loss, doubt, joy, wistfulness and the struggle to keep going. They do so with what sounds like, aftermany years of toil, the all-too-rare self-revelation that "We are a band. Not a collective, not some pseudonym for a cagey and eccentric auteur, not a high-concept performance troupe. We are a BAND." The band is clearly at the height of their powers in terms of musicianship, songwriting and lyricism and they have crafted a rock album of enduring quality. Here's to hoping it's the first of many.
Discography
