Palberta | Palberta5000

By Justin Christopher Poulin, Contributor

When I’m sitting in traffic watching the blinkers flash
I’ll be sitting in traffic and the blinkers will be flashing
Sometimes I’m sitting in traffic and I’ll watch the flashing blinkers

Two or three in front of me, directionals all going off
A few cars in front of me, and all of their directionals going
There’s two or three of them, directionals going off

I catch a high when they all blink in unison
I catch a high when they’re blinking in unison
I catch a high when they blink in unison

HELL YEAH, there they go
HELL YEAH, there they go
HELL YEAH, there they go

Fuck! I dropped my bagel
Shit, there goes my bagel
Damn it! My bagel’s on the floor

Uh, it’s that sort of chaotic harmony
Well, that sort of chaotic harmony
Anyway, it’s that chaotic harmony

That comes to mind when listening to Palberta.

Previous efforts from the NYC trio reveled in finding prettiness in atonal warblings, spiny guitar riffs, and skittering drumwork. Look no further than the opening track to their 2018 release, Roach Going Down, to find that sort of unstable balance in sound and rhythm. Having been ones to shrug off comparisons, the one that’s managed to stick over the years is Captain Beefheart. But for all the trout masks to lay at their feet, Palberta’s sound comes from a long line of no-wave and noise rock in the years that followed. Nevertheless, throughout their discography, Palberta have managed to strike a sense of equilibrium between free noise and mellow euphony (à la synchronized thermal switch, blinker relay, yada yada—yes, my analogies continue to limp).

While it’s safe to say that there have been some pop sentimentalities that have crept into the jagged rancor of Palberta’s oeuvre over the years, the very first thing you’ll notice once you put on Palberta5000 is a dramatic melodic shift. In comparison to older material, “No Way” bursts with color as soon Ani Ivry-Block, Lily Konigsberg, and Nina Ryser hit the three-part harmonies. The second thing you’ll notice is a massive production update. Gone is the crunchy grit reminiscent of a ZE Records release from the ‘80s; what we get in return are bright and vibrant dynamics, rich bass notes, and pleasantly brittle guitar tones. Seriously, “brittle” can come off as a red flag in certain camps, but this is brittle in the sense that the crust of a crème brûlée is brittle. On “Never to Go,” The descending octaves crunch and crackle like a spoon plunging through burnt sugar.

Konigsberg reports that the works Liz Phair and Lucinda Williams played a part in influencing the new direction in sound. The trio found themselves returning to these artists often when putting together their new album, and you can hear that on a track like “Before I Got Here.” There’s a punchiness there that calls to mind Phair’s earlier work in particular. However, if there were two bands that came to my mind while listening to Palberta5000, I personally say I hear some fascinating crossover between the twee glee of Talulah Gosh and the eccentric whimsy of Deerhoof. No more clearly is this apparent on tracks like “In Again,” “Summer Sun,” “Corner Store,” and “Something in the Way.” These four tracks specifically make me do a double take considering that this is the same band that brought us frenetic freak-out that is Bye Bye Berta. At the same rate, I appreciate the persistent earwormy refrains. Hell, the sooner I can dance to this in the corner of the local dive, the better. 

With that said, this repetitive formula doesn’t work as well on some of the longer cuts. 2 minutes of the same three-second chorus on “Big Bad Want” does eventually wear out its welcome; “Fragile Place” showcases some great, thick guitar, but it sort of warps into a weird jig about halfway through listening; “All Over My Face” is a cool, Contortions-esque romp, but it could pack the same punch at half the length. I think it’s worth pointing out, however, that considering how much of a departure Palberta5000 is from the band’s previous four albums, there should be some expected growing pains. 

The album, like its predecessors, is lyrically Dadaist. You can read and reread each lyric and still have but a loose grasp on what is going on. It’s sort of like hearing someone speak in a dream. At first it all makes sense, but upon waking, you have to ask if it meant anything at all. Then suddenly, you’ll catch a fleeting glimpse of something oddly sentimental. “The Cow” bounces from bringing a cow home (hmm, ok) to being genuinely intimate: “I will be there with my hand on your chest/I feel your rumbling internal mess/raising my foot and then slip out my dress/you loving me and me feeling blessed.” In a way, the weaving in and out of cogency feels consistent with that balance between noise and euphony. And the turning signals play table tennis.

For the uninitiated, Palberta5000 is the band’s most approachable release to date, and for me, recommended listening for anyone looking to get into this trio’s discography. It still sports the same jerky, cacophonous, quirky charm that makes the band shine, but the pleasant pastel melodies make for just a genuinely fun listen. 

Now if I can find a way to get cream cheese out of carpet.