I Just Read About That…

SOUNDTRACK: PALEHOUND-Tiny Desk Concert #521 (April 11, 2016).

Palehound sounds like they would be kind of a scruffy roots rock band.  But they are about as far from that as you can get.  Rather, Palehound are the embodiment of alt indie rock–a literate confessional songwriter playing spare grungy music behind her emotionally wrenching vocals.

Back in February, Palehound played a showcase for NPR (you can see it here).  In the live setting, the band was noisy and rocking and singer/guitarist Ellen Kempner’s distortion was turned way up.  She doesn’t shred, but she makes a giant noise.  She is backed by a bassist and a drummer–spare but effective.  And her voice is comfortably uncomfortable meaning her angry lyrics and intentionally less than pretty singing works perfectly for the music she writes.

But for this Tiny Desk, she strips away a lot of the noise and lays bare both her sound and her voice.  As the blurb says, these three spare, nervy renditions of songs from 2015’s Dry Food are, naturally, a bit rawer and more exposed… But, with the aid of drummer Jesse Weiss and bassist Davood Khoshtinat, Kempner uses that intimacy to her advantage.

The first song, “Pet Carrot” opens with a simple guitar riff and Kempner’s delicate  voice singing “my best friend is a parrot and I say things that he won’t mind” (this part reminds me a bit of the melody from “Brand New Key” from Melanie.  When the band kicks in (bass and drums) they ground the song.  Her guitar style isn’t flashy at all but it works really well with her understated vocals.

She switches guitars (“the old switcheroo”) and Bob says they admired this guitar.  She says they were on tour with PWR BTMM who are so glittery so she bought whale stickers and bejeweled the guitar.  Bob says that PWR BTTM will be here in Feb (so not only did Palehound’s show air two months later but it was put out after PWR BTTM’s).

For “Dry Food,” her vocals are much deeper and even more delicate.  Her guitar playing is great—picking the high notes with her fingers and playing bass notes with her thumb.  The drum is simple–keeping the beat–while the bass adds a low end.  Again, the lyrics are great: “You made beauty a monster to me so I’m kissing the ugly things I see.”

The final song, “Dixie,” is just her singing and playing guitar.  It’s a simple ballad, but not a happy one.  I like the way she repeats the last line of each verse–like a poem.  The song feels like a dream and confessional at the same time:  “People that I’ll never meet have been showing up naked in my dreams and I try to close my eyes but I really want to see their breasts like eyes are staring back at me, their breasts like eyes are staring back at me.”  I love the slow chord she plays at the end of each verse too—a punctuation after each thought.  And then this line: “The hair that’s in my shower drain has been clogging up my home.  And I try to scoop it up but I wretch until I’m stuck just stare and gag into a Dixie cup, just stare and gag into a Dixie cup.”

With her full band there’s a lot more dissonance both in her guitar sound and the chords she plays (and she talks about new merch–Nail Polish called Nailhound by Palehound).  This band is really something.

[READ: January 23, 2013] “God’s Work”

This is a story of faith and questions.

Sanders is a college aged boy (I think–it says sophomore, and they live near a college, so I assume he is in college).  His mother is a devout woman who goes door to door with pamphlets inviting people to Fellowship.  They aren’t Mormon–in fact I can’t decide what their religion is.  They don’t believe in hell, just a void, but she says that, of course, you would rather have God’s eternal love than nothingness.

Sanders loves his mother and his faith is certain.  But he is a teen-aged boy with urges and an imagination.  And being around college-aged girls (while he must wear a heavy black suit) is unsettling.

Most people simply shut their doors in his mother’s face (which does not deter her) but every once in a while people invite her in.  Sometimes for good reason and other times to give them a hard time.

On this particular day, they knock on a door and the man–with a ponytail and in an undershirt–invites them in.  Sanders is used to the abuse that people like this usually hurl.  But this man is quiet and somewhat respectful. Until he lights up a bong and takes a hit.  He offers the pipe to Sanders and his mother.  She remains unfazed but Sanders just wants to get out.

It only gets worse when the man calls out for Clara and Sanders’ worst fears are realized.  He knows her.  She has a ripped shirt, racoon eyes and pierced everything.  But rather than teasing him, she apologizes for her father and takes a pamphlet.

The only thing more surprising than that is that she shows up at Fellowship on Wednesday and then on Saturday.  She is swarmed over by the women of the congregation who love having a new person to fawn over.  And by the next Fellowship, she is wearing a modestly long skirt and a respectful headscarf.

She asks Sanders’ mother if the two of them can go for a walk on Monday night.  Sanders’ mother is skeptical but agrees.  And it turns out that Clara really wants to talk to him about his faith.  She has many questions, and she likes what she hears.

She is rough around the edges, and Sanders is virginal, so nearly everything she says and does embarrasses him.  Especially when she invites him to step into the river with her–she lifts her skirt and reveals her calves (there’s a very funny moment where Sanders thinks of the word engorgement and instantly regrets it).

He isn’t really sure what she wants from him.  He’s terrified of blowing it.

I enjoyed the way this story developed in surprising directions.  And I liked that the ending almost came as a message from God, although not exactly.