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Palm

Palm

Broken and reconstructed laws of musical composition and physics tear the nerves while caressing and soothing our souls instantaneously this month as Palm comes to town leaving our eager ears and minds ready to travel to unknown musical dimensions.

Not all are ready for such things, but if the cosmic lasso of the universe happens to cinch up on your mind, indifferently pulling you into experiencing the jarring and jangling, yet seamlessly intricate anti compositions that Palm has to offer, you may consider yourself quite astounded, baffled and uniquely fortunate. As a matter of fact, if by happenstance you get the chance to study the process of constructing the deconstruction of Shadow Expert, Palm’s second release that hit the ground running in June of this year, you may find yourself in a musical dimension that previously had not existed. Now if we reach this so called dimension and proceed to see them live this month at Mississippi Studios, I have to leave us all hanging because I have no idea what the repercussions might be.

The overlapping and intertwining guitars and vocals that both Eve Alpert and Kasra Kurt project without warning seem to duel, collide, crash and clang as they console and soothe the nerves just as they shoot them all to hell. The layered vocals, slightly ominous and droning, are reminiscent of artists like Pinback and Elliott Smith, while the music is something that only the process of a truly strange and precise musical evolution could produce. The melodic electric shock of the four piece enigma leaves us chasing down the frequency that only reaches familiarity through repetition. The busy hi-hat work and hard to catch bursts of percussion that Hugo Stanley attacks us with and the precisely placed bass lines of Gerasimos Livtano that hit exactly where no one would have suspected all intuitively interlace into a sound that leaves us all guessing and grappling with the unknown possibilities of the multi-colored musical strobe light effect that nearly attacks with the capability to send us all into some sort of musically induced, epileptic seizure. A treatment that could only be prescribed by a sick, twisted and beautiful musical universe.

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The opportunity to see, hear and feel the abstract art made fluid by vibrations translated by our eager eardrums, scattered and received by our tender and willing brains by Palm this month leaves a portal to the unknown wide open and for us. The decision is yours. Hope to see you there.