Women in music can't win. If we raise our voice to a yell, people accuse us of trying to be too masculine, or wonder why we are so angry. If we use a feathery, airy vocal approach, we are accused of playing up our femininity in a way that somehow makes our art less potent. If our lyrics are too personal, go to dark places, we are reviewed as morose to our detriment. Conversely if we write in a less serious, more playful tone, we are branded idealist, immature, or too candycoated. Damned if we do, damned if we don't.
The media critique of
Charlie Hilton's Palana contains a bit of this kind of misunderstanding and complaint. It is almost like saying a painting has failed because the the medium of watercolor is too transparent, a pastel too subtle of a color, silver too reflective, or a pencil shadow is too soft. These are tools and palette choices of an artist and whatever artist does with those things is exactly what makes them, well, them. These 12 songs are a muted mirror to the artist. Her tone and stories are taken from the personal journey that moves like a dream, confounds as to what is a lasting crisis verse the temporary growing pains towards becoming a new self. For those who don't have the pleasure of making songs as an exploration of self, this is a shimmering example of this process and the healing that can come from excavating the dark channels of the imagination.
Palana was inspired in part by the often misunderstood novel
Steppenwolf by Hermann Hess. Both bodies of work reflect a miserable, lost person seeking to be found or potentially reborn. Rather than focus on the pessimism of the book or this record, the better takeaway is the complex philosophical prism they have created. Lonely in a crowd. Happy in sadness. Part human, part animal. Stuck but running through the motions of life.
Palana is Charlie Hilton's first solo album. Previously she has been a member of the Portland, OR trio Blouse however fans will not discover a wildly different vocal brush stroke here. Comparisons to Broadcast, Nico, and Astrud Gilberto still hold true however the rainy day retro paired with modern electronics make this a fresh and lovely listen. Like any good story the plot is dotted with strife, conflict, astute observations, humor, romance, and told with a narrative that is direct and engaging. The music doesn't amplify the drama, Hilton presents her thoughts like a gentle echo.
On a side note, is it just me or does Hilton's album art look a little bit like Gainsbourg 9th studio album with Brigitte Bardot? I love the visual tribute to what could easily be a psych-pop French '60s album or an early Bossa Nova record.
