Palehound

My daughter is 3 and her hair is always in her fucking eyes. She swipes at it and swipes at it by sliding the back of her palm across her forehead. If you ever get to meet her, it's probably why she has grape jelly in her bangs. 

Of course I always suggest: why don't we clip back your bangs in a barrette? Why don't we put your hair in a pony tail? Or....or how about a braid on the side like Elsa? Eh?

This is met with overly dramatic 'NO' and then she stares me down. Her stare says: 'Elsa? Really? How dare you partonize me like that? I'm going to leave my hair like this just to spite you. I don't care if it's tickling my eyelids. Knowing that my discomfort is annoying you brings me pleasure. BTW, your ideas SUCK.'

And then she taps her fingers together like Mr. Burns and belts out an evil laugh. 

"Wahahaha. WAHAHAHA. WAAAAAAHAHAHA,' and then she looks at my innocently, "Can I have some juice please?"

This is that girly angst/sweetness that is never outgrown. As dads or husbands we learn how to deal with these looks of disgust. We deal with the problem by giving space; it's our queue to make up an excuse to go to the garage and find something to tinker on. OR if you aren't handy like me, grab the ipad and take an extra long dump. 

Palehound's songwriter Ellen Kempner injects this 'attitude' into Dry Food. It's kinda like she's saying: give me some fucking space. I'm going to sing my songs. I'm going to be a little mopey, but I'm going to fucking kills these tracks. And if you just listen...you'll understand me a little better. 

Ellen has this vibe down. She channels Speedy Ortiz who is channeling The Breeders who seem to be annoyed that their hair is in their fucking eyes again. Grungey and lackadaisical melodies that can be depressing, angry and sweet all at the same time. 

But these songs especially stand out to me. You see, many bands try to capture a vibe. And if they are lucky enough to nail down authenticity, they fail at the second hurdle: making it interesting. 

Not Palehound though; they are firing on all 4 cylinders of my 1992 Geo Storm. 

And you need to listen no further than the first track, 'Molly'. Holy shit those riffs give you a heat rash on your genitals. The guitar is all over the fucking place. There is a distinct verse. A distinct chorus. A distinct bridge. AND THEN HOLY FUCK, what is happenening at 1.48? The song just gets better and better and better and then you need to change your shorts. 

And this isn't even the best track on the album.  

Run along now. Go click play. I'm going to take a dump and will leave you alone.