Palmbomen II – Memories Of Cindy

by Freq | 2018-02-23T23:52:45+00:000000004528201802 23:52

Beats In Space

Palmbomen II - Memories Of CindyThere’s a soft interference about this record, a sense of loss; it’s beautifully produced throughout and sort of drifts under you as an album (not a bad thing at all), but there’s a real sense of dislocation; you never know quite what it is you’re hearing.

The Cindy refers to a minor character in Twin Peaks, but you don’t need to be told this; it has that Lynchian shimmer, or rather the Lynchian shimmer that came about in the opening scenes of Blue Velvet, when you know that what is, isn’t. This is a picket-fence America as Baudrillard would see it; hyperreal, Disneyesque, perfectly prosaic. There’s a beautifully banal evil in the air. And such sad(e)ness. I could be getting this all wrong (I need to do research, once in a while), but to me this explains the dream-gone-sour America better than most realism. Certainly better than most of the my-dad’s-bigger-than-yours industrial techno.

This is genuinely creepy stuff because it causes you to listen again. It makes you turn back. It’s unheimlich. It’s club music in parts (some parts would close the club), but you’d have to be on the right kind of trajectory to really let this get under your skin; do the wrong drugs and you’d almost certainly be complaining that your statutory rights had been affected.

I’d say what it sounds like, but the album is all atmosphere; describing the breaking sticks hi-hats and gently lolopping soft and slow acidic squelches, and the Instagram pads and the snatches of barely heard (perhaps never heard) dialogue is a little beside the point. This is like lots of minimal techno you’ve heard before, but it’s also unlike those things; this has a depth (or an illusion of depth so meticulous that it’s undistinguishable from the real thing) that is not often present in this kind of music; even the upbeat numbers (which sort of exist) are suffused with a narcoleptic haze that makes you imagine a Lynch heroine dancing barefoot and alone in the middle of the room.

I bought the first, self-titled, album and I’ve played it a lot. I think I’ll play this a lot too. It suits the mood, right now. The slow descent. Even if you think you might hate everything that this gets racked with, I’d suggest you give it a go.


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