Parlotones FTW
It’s not often that I’m moved to gush. Oh, alright, I’ll be honest. I am frequently moved to gush when it comes to music I love. It’s just that too often I couldn’t be arsed to actually do it.
This time round I am so blown away by the Parlotones’ new CD I have to have my say.
Stardust Galaxy is the third big release by a band that is destined to make Dave Matthews-sized waves internationally. And what a release it is.
Radiocontrolled Robot was a mishmash of styles, some good tunes (and one or two forgettable ones) and an attempt at putting their stake in the ground as rock contenders. The follow up A world next door to yours moved things up a gear with a bit more of a unified sound and a fistful of radio-friendly songs. But, as good as it was, it still had a streak of ordinariness about it as if the band hadn’t yet found their mojo. But if those two albums can be likened to firstly dipping a toe in the water and then wading in chest high, Stardust Galaxy sees the band taking the plunge and swimming the English Channel. It’s that good.
The catchy radio friendliness is there – Push me to the Floor being the first single, perfectly palatable, interesting and one of those songs you’re unlikely to tire from hearing over and over. Not sure what radio stations will begin playing next but if it’s not Remember When… then someone is making a giant mistake. It’s the kind of anthemic rock tune that bands gouge their eyes out to write. Without any hint of 70s glam rock cheese. Think Journey without Steve Perry’s tight trouser whine.
There’s something subliminal on the album that makes it work. On the one hand it could be the product of playing together live so much – it results in a tightness and unified sound that can’t be replicated in the studio. Then there’s the contribution of Theo Crous’ production and Neal Snyman’s mixing (Neal is one of those underrated engineers who has quietly mixed some of my favourite albums – Wendy Oldfield’s Holy Water, Arno Carstens’ Another Universe, a couple of Nude Girls albums, Karen Zoid’s Media and Postmodern World, and Sons of Trout’s Ticks on George). Their influence is felt throughout the CD. It’s tight and polished and gives you a deep sense that there’s something magical in the way the chemistry has come together.
But back to the songs. The title track of the CD is another of those rare moments – combining Kahn’s sound with that of the reigning queen of SA pop, Freshlyground’s Zolani Mahola. It’s a great combo. Both have unique and distinctive voices. Both are on top of their game. And they’re dynamite together. In a kind of way that Peter Gabriel and Kate Bush were on Don’t give up. Fly to the Moon is one of those yearning-for-something-better-but-unattainable songs that Kahn does so well and Welcome to the Weekend manages to be both angry and sweet at the same time. In a sinister way (you can blame Andy Lund for that, I guess – he does backing vocals on the track).
I first saw the Parlotones live at Oppikoppi in 2006. But my abiding memory was watching them on stage at South by Southwest in Austin, Texas earlier this year. They were good. But they sort of got lost in the great orgy of live music that characterises this showcase festival. I wanted to leap in front of the crowd and kak them out for not realising that they were watching the beginning of something special, that their albums to date have been good but just wait, there’s more on the way. i had a conversation with a bigwig music journo who wanted to come to the gig but arrived late, I should have told him the same thing. Because with Stardust Galaxy being launched I could email him one line – “I told you so”. In fact I might just do that anyway.
They’re a great band, destined for great things. And as someone who has been lucky enough to work with them peripherally I can attest to the fact that no-one deserves it more. A bunch of great guys, hard working, uncomplaining and who leave their egos firmly at the door when they have a job to do. Bring on Wembley, they can handle it.
