Painted Palms - Forever

Even after a lifetime submerged in travel ads, the only way to really discover new places is to actually bloody go there. More often than not, big travelling adventures lead to cliched ‘discoveries of self’, where post-school backpackers return tanned, cocky and often quite irritating. Louisiana’s Painted Palms experienced change through travel in a more upstanding way, by packing their bags and moving to California. It might seem like an obvious link but this geographical switch is clearly the key player in forming their sun-drenched debut ‘Forever’.

Cousins Reese Donolue and Christopher Prudhomme still rely on tech-savvy delivery - the two often end up in different parts of the States, trading ideas via email - but for romanticised purposes it’s easier to imagine the two ditching everything and setting up a studio just inches away from the coast. Their deep sea dive of a debut gradually evolves into a rich and colourful source of escape, like a coral reef excavation with the occasionally grizzly-toothed white shark thrown in for good measure.

‘Forever’ basks in the pure-pop sweetness of The Beach Boys - lifting some of Brian Wilson and co’s melancholia to boot - while glittering each song with the sonic shift production style of Panda Bear. There’s a dreamy lull by way of The Shins in ‘Soft Hammer’, a Haçienda-diverting Bez-endorsed turn in ‘Hypnotic’ and the kind of lush instrumentation and melodic turns in ‘Angels’ that Grizzly Bear have fast become accustomed to. These stepping stones are linked together in a patchwork style for the duo’s first work. ‘Forever’ doesn’t quite discover its own identity - like the average gap year kid might boast - but it lays out its cards in resplendent fashion.

Opener ‘Too High’ glows with excitement at what’s coming next, practically setting off fireworks in its gung-ho display of musical pyrotechnics. ‘Hypnotic’ is equally impressive, out maraca-ing Jagwar Ma in its sun-sourced fizz. There’s also ‘Not Really There’, arguably the pair’s most fully formed balance of sky-rocketing escapism and underlying sadness.

Like a youngster missing home on their first great adventure, there’s an occasional loneliness creeping into ‘Forever”s easygoing approach. Claims that ‘nobody thinks like me’ and the title-track’s confession that ‘I feel like I just can’t hang on to myself’ hone in at an a couple of guys navigating their way through a tricky stage. Their answer to everyday problems is to ride the waves and lose their heads. But in doing so, they also admit that this kind of self-therapy isn’t for everyone. It’s this that lends Painted Palms’ debut an edge; a human touch to the kind of escapism that often seems incomprehensible to average office types.