Daryl Palumbo is a man of many hats. So many, in fact, that you have to believe his wardrobe is full of them. From changing the landscape of post hardcore with Glassjaw, bringing hip-shaking rock to Head Automatica, and flirting with dark hip hop as part of House Of Blow, Palumbo has done it all. His latest offering, Color Film, again lives up to the apparent mantra of wanting to try new things with each project. Teaming up with multi-instrumentalist Richard Penzone, ‘Living Arrangements’ incorporates so many styles it’s hard to tell where it will go next.
Over the course of the record, dance-laden beats and breaks permeate each track, coming right off the bat with album opener, ‘We’d Kill Each Other’. There are moments of funk-driven bass hooks through ‘Small Town’ and the brooding sexuality of ‘I Need A Parasite’, whereas ‘Restless Summer’ is a lesson in disjointed power-pop. For all of these changes, the ‘Living Arrangements’ is cohesive rather than confusing, with a clear vision of what Color Film are trying to achieve.
Of course, the most notable element of Color Film is Palumbo’s vocals. How can anyone mistake that voice? Even when Glassjaw were at their most visceral, Palumbo would still do things that few vocalists wouldn’t dare to try. The new wave shimmer of ‘Bass In Seven’ and ‘New 52 Minds’ are a chance for him to live out his dream of sounding like Glenn Tilbrook from Squeeze.
In the current scope of music, ‘Living Arrangements’ doesn’t fall into any particular category, and with such a clash of styles it stands out on its own. That’s a testament to the creative minds of Palumbo and Penzone. At the core you could say it’s a pop album, but the hazy, drugged-out dub rhythm that cruises through ‘Bad Saint’ suggests otherwise.
Color Film is more than just a Daryl Palumbo vanity project, but it will appeal to the rabid fan base that laps up anything he puts his name to. The difference with Palumbo is that virtually everything he touches turns to gold, and ‘Living Arrangements’ is no exception.
GLEN BUSHELL