Philadelphia indie rock foursome
Palm made waves from the get-go with their 2015 debut,
Trading Basics. It established an off-kilter sound that combined catchy rhythms, complex time signatures, unpredictable arrangements, noise elements, and a melodic center with an overall sense of spontaneity. Three years later,
Rock Island dove further into abstraction, incorporating MIDI triggers among other experiments with their sound. Taking inspiration from electronic music as well as metal, their third album,
Nicks and Grazes, dials up the noise and the intricacy for an even more narcotic and impenetrable outing that remains nonetheless lock-step tight, performance-wise. Sounding something like if
Animal Collective,
Of Montreal, and a metronome formed a supergroup for a one-off festival, "Touch and Go" opens the album with a bang -- or, more precisely, clattering metallic noise, a wiry guitar chord, and pounding drums. (The album's design includes prepared guitars that were treated with objects like metal rods and rubber-coated gardening wire.) Meanwhile, abstract lyrics like "Flip the scene on the abacus/You're touched by the rabbit on the run/Drooping trees drool in analog" only add to the delirium. While the record maintains a larger-then-life energy and wide-ranging timbral palette,
Palm arguably sidestep tedium here with variety and sheer sonic inventiveness. The skittering "Parable Lickers" organizes what sounds like trash can lids and steel drums into infectious polyrhythms that ultimately support a hummable, more sustained melody, and songs like the midtempo "Away Kit" and relatively wistful "Feathers" ("Make it up/Like a performer") allow for a little more breathing room. In addition, some of the mathier songs are separated by instrumental interstitials like "Suffer Dragon," which combines video-game-battle sound effects, carousel music, and system failure.
Nicks and Grazes ends on a 98-second title track that involves a looped groove, crowd noise, and band banter, as if the theater's clearing after a show, and it does feel like the closing of an extravaganza. ~ Marcy Donelson
