San Francisco – Free events often bring with them a sense of dread, as they can present a series of problems: overcrowded-ness, misinformation, and guest list-related confusion to name a few. I’ve had a tattered past with FILTER parties—having been scorned by the first two I tried to attend—so when I received an invite to another FILTER party, in which Painted Palms—a local band I have grown to love over the past few months—was set to headline, I was rather skeptical (especially since it was at a snowboard store in the middle of the city). To my surprise, however, my friend and I got in with the greatest of ease, making me change my mind about such events.
As my friend and I entered the store, nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary, other than the free beer koozies and the cater-waiter holding a plate of sundried tomato crostini and meatballs smothered in coconut cream sauce. As we journeyed toward the rear of the store through a corridor carved out of billowing black plastic, the path opened up into sun-spackled yard nestled between the snuggly architecture of The Haight. Aaron Axelsen helmed the turntables—spinning old-school hip hop that gradually evolved into thumping house beats—while the twinkly-eyed bartenders at the table toward the back slung PBRs and Sailor Jerry cocktails to the thirsty crowd slowly thickening before them.
At around 6 P.M., Axelsen relinquished the controls to Painted Palms—the centerpiece of the party—who took to the stage, forgoing complexity by assembling a simple setup of just a lone synthesizer—powered by Reese Donohue and his carefully calculated finger strokes—and a guitar/microphone station, where vocalist/virtuoso Chris Prudhomme stood at the ready. The whole transition took no more than a minute or two, and after a brief yet heartfelt introduction (“Hey everyone, we’re Painted Palms. We’re from just down the block.”) they began their set with an eloquent, dignified fury, starting with the opening track to their debut full-length albumForever (released in January of this year), the pulsing, vibratory “Too High.” The title track from their debut LP, “Forever” followed, enrapturing the small yet devoted crowed with a series of carefully punctuated synth punches, which evoked a sense of elusive tranquility. Prudhomme’s vocals and the altogether blissful abruptness of the key change into the chorus teemed with brightness, bookended by Lennon-esque vocal glissando and silky smooth orchestral segue.
A handful of tracks from both Forever and their earlier EPs followed, including the aptly titled “Sleepwalking,” a dreamy, emotive, yet short-lived lullaby; “Hypnotic,” a forceful, yet deceptively joyous-sounding song about one’s irritation that stems from a lack of honesty within the confines of communication; as well as the early track “Falling Asleep,”—one that this reviewer is admittedly fairly unfamiliar—which appears on their Canopy EP, which was released via Bandcamp in 2011. Even though I am pretty sure I had never heard this song before seeing it played live at this show, I could have sworn that I had, which furthers my hypothesis that this particular duo of musicians have something special in the way that they write and perform music, as this particular track played out in my mind as a song that I had heard many times before. Their altogether accessibility is only exceeded by their originality, a combination which is not often found within the sphere of modern, independently produced music.
The show ended with some of the bands more upbeat and pop-influenced tracks, including the infectiously pulsating favorite “Spinning Signs,” which happens to be the first song by them I ever heard. It is a bursting cornucopia of effervescent melody and harmony driven by Prudhomme’s hazy, luscious vocals and Donohue’s diligent and deliberate synth-driven instrumentation. It brings to mind the band’s obvious influences, including Animal Collective, Bear in Heaven, and a very palpable homage to Magical Mystery Tour-era Beatles, most notably the track “Your Mother Should Know.”
The last track of the day was the second track of the album, the jingly, sing-song “Here It Comes.” It was a perfect track to land on at the end of the set—especially this set, given the intimate nature of the venue and the altogether sunny atmosphere exhibited by the weather, the crowd, and the band themselves.
The intimate nature of the backyard venue and the vital simplicity of the band’s stage setup played very well off each other, while the dwindling sunlight seemed to gently carry the melodies as they trickled down over our heads. Not once did the two falter, and they transitioned between songs with careful intensity, ducking down momentarily to adjust knobs and pedals amongst a flurry of flying fingertips, and before one had a chance to blink, the duo was back on their feet, tearing their way into the next track with fiery tenacity.
Two images come to mind when I hear the name Painted Palms: one conveys a tree-lined beach, multicolored palm fronds dancing in the wind; the other depicts children splashing around in finger paint, smearing long playful streaks of bruised color all over a massive white wall. Either way, a sense of freedom and vibrant joy permeates the sunny timbre of their songs, blowing like a warm, punchy breeze that tickles your eardrums as it slips between the strands of your hair. It’s that kind of sensation that makes musicians like these two young men truly remarkable. To be able to conjure such impressions through audible art is a talent not availed to many, yet Painted Palms did it with such ease and grace during their live show it’s hard to believe that they’ve only just begun what is sure to be a long and fruitful journey.
Check out Painted Palms website for tour dates, music, and more: http://www.paintedpalms.net.
Corey Bell
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