Have you ever seen a bassist arrive onstage dressed as a bumblebee? No? Me neither, well, not until this evening when Palehound’s Davood Khoshtinat shows up. Boston’s Palehound are in town, fresh off the back of their debut album, Dry Food. Sticky Mike’s was to prove characteristically sticky with bodies cuddled around the front of stage, eagerly awaiting a shy, nervous looking Ellen Kempner to utter her lamenting, satiric vocals. Tonight, Brighton ends the UK stretch of the tour which has seen Kempner and her comrades trek all around Europe previously, with just a few days left on the tour, Kempner seems keen to end it on a high suggesting, “This is the most I have ever spoke onstage whilst on tour here in the UK. I think it’s because in Belgium they don’t speak English.”
Dry Food was released via Heavenly Records, it bleeds American alt-rock and heavier folk, much in the style of Pavement or Yo La Tengo having a cup of tea with the angelic nature of Cate le Bon. Along the line of Dry Food, Palehound occasionally tap into a more psychedelic vein, songs such as ‘Cinnamon’ differentiate the LP from the previously released Bent Nail EP which focused more on the to-the-point folk-rock ethic. These sounds climb upon a noise utilised by the likes of Tame Impala, Mac Demarco and Foxygen and live, it suggests a dynamic shift from a 90s post-grunge sound that can grow tiresome if overkilled.
You get the sense that Ellen Kempner has always had something of interest to say within her songs; her lyrics are evocative of many teenagers’ plunder towards adulthood and now, she is beginning to find a voice that works in a live setting. Not necessarily helped by the sound at Sticky Mike’s which warbles along uncoordinated at the best of times, it is hard to pick out clarity in her vocals which are ultimately of the highest importance to the music. When they are audible, the angst and gnarled frustration wrapped within Kempner's vocals twist, turn and then nosedive through teenage kicks and growing pains; each song outlining a chapter of her younger life with a sharp tongue-in-cheek wit. The likes of ‘Dry Food’ when played live dance precariously along a Velvet Underground line, spilling beauty and emotion around every held note, laying forth a platform for a nervous looking Kempner to often whisper on top of, adding to the distinct beauty of the situation.
Kempner’s hair tumbles in a bedraggled fashion over her face as youngsters at the front hurl seals of approval. Ellen would later suggest it was an intimidating crowd, however she managed to handle it all in a witty, sharp fashion as Simpson’s jokes were bounded around the crowd mocking the chowder that Boston is famous for. Kempner’s lips would hang closely onto the microphone as she rocked backwards and forwards on her heels, swooping closer to the microphone to breathe her heavy voice upon it. What began to develop was a set that you just could not switch off to – rumbling rhythm bounced below in a hyper-active fashion, much like a toddler rocking viciously in a highchair. What acts as a real quality to Palehound was how the set was so perfectly constructed; Kempner, Khoshtinat and drummer, Jesse Weiss, never lingered too long on a particular sound or pattern. It danced between the elegance of ‘Drooler’, ‘Pet Carrot’ and ‘Dixie’ whilst darting towards the heavier, punk-fuelled ‘Cushioned Caging’, ‘Molly’ and the rum-swigging ‘Sea Konk’. Each song had a fitting place on the bill, outlining the innocent charm of Palehound.
Palehound often jittered along a wobbly path of organised chaos, occasionally being out of time, however this adds to the charm of the affair, this is not necessarily a musician’s band per se – this is meant in the best possible way. Their modus operandi is what they stand for between the music. Not only does it stand for the purpose of passionate angst but it lets you find the fun in something, allowing the audience to find glimmers of joy – whether that is older members longing of nostalgic days or teenagers and their present. The fun onstage is represented in bright colours, occasional Janet Jackson-esque nip-slips from Khoshtinat and the warm humour shared between Kempner’s discovery of mushy peas and the crowd's similar shock that she has only just discovered them.
Tom Churchill
Website: palehound.bandcamp.com
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