Palomar, All things, forests

Damn, I’ve missed stuff like this. Back when I was a mere musical tadpole, smart, self-deprecating, guitar-heavy indie-rock bands seemed to rule the freakin’ world; lately, however, they seem to be in short supply. With All things, forests, Palomar manages to bring back that style while updating it for our too-cynical time. And they do a hell of a job.

Admittedly, the first track’s a bit of a bait-and-switch — the album starts with “Bury Me Closer,” a chunk of gorgeous, insistent pop from beyond the grave that wouldn’t sound out-of-place on an Arcade Fire album. It’s great, definitely, but from there the band ups the volume considerably; “Our Haunt” is probably the darkest Palomar song I’ve ever heard, a murky cautionary tale that aims more for distortion than pretty melody. When the fuzzed-out guitar kicks the door down, it’s damn near perfect.

Then there’s “He Came To Stay,” which starts out jangly and slow before slamming in with feedbacky guitars, the cheery, sweet “You’re Keeping Us Up,” and the sleeper of the disc, “Beats Beat Nothing,” which begins slow but rises to a heroic note. “How To Beat Dementia,” though, lays the essential template for most of All things, forests: coolly detached, almost flat vocals, delicate keys, and raging, roaring guitars. And oh, the guitars… I haven’t heard a rock band comprised primarily of women (Rachel Warren plays guitar and does most of the singing, Christina Prostano plays guitar, Sarah Brockett plays bass, and lone male Dale Miller drums; everybody sings) that rocks this hard since the much-revered Sleater-Kinney or, heck, Elizabeth Elmore’s old band Sarge.

The music the band plays is hard to categorize, really; it’s indie-rock, certainly, but it doesn’t fall into any of the neat little boxes we’ve got these days for indie bands that play loud and sing sweetly. This is just rock, really, and that’s it. Palomar tries on a closet full of styles through the course of the album, but amazingly, almost all fit just right.

A large part of why All things, forests works is Warren’s vocals, honestly. Her voice has a nicely flat, unaffected, almost world-weary quality to it that reminds me of Aimee Mann, but she can still get all soaring and beautiful when she feels the need. And that voice matches the understated, let’s-just-do-it feel of the music perfectly; no chirpiness, no prettiness here to undermine the surging power-pop melodies and gritty guitars (which is a very good thing). In the end, the band probably describes themselves best in the lines to “Beats Beat Nothing”: “We’re nice when it suits us / but terrible sometimes.”