Some soloists exude a sense of loneliness and stubbornness. They may be surrounded by many instrumentalists who complement their work, but it's clear that amidst the complexity of the sound, their inner world and their need to express themselves in their own way stand out. The Argentine artist known as Palmer is one of these characters.
Palmer, who has been producing his solo discography since 2009, presents Postwar period, An album close to blues, country, and folk, but one that feels like it tells the story of a lonely man in the middle of the big city. Heartbreaking melodies that gain drama through the clever use of keyboards and slide guitars. Norman Mac Loughlin, your producer. Palmer paints a territory located, in an imaginary way, between Memphis and Buenos Aires, But whose landscape belongs only to him, fits only in his mind and his voice. Therein lies the power of this album.
Some wary person, of which there is never a shortage, upon noticing the presence of ukuleles and strange nostalgia, will say that we are facing the quintessence of the hipster, but Palmer's work is not gratuitous nor does it submit to the alternative fashion. His work feels honest and is worthy of being celebrated.
The best thing: The tender roughness of The foreigner, a composition that at times reminds us of Beck's old albums.
