Imagine an artist. A painter. Their work, their art, isn’t just about ideas. It’s about expression, the form, the way they paint the picture. Maybe they choose water colours, they might choose to work with oils or acrylic. They might use a brush to apply paint to a canvas or a different implement entirely. How you work a canvas is as important as what you are working on. This is interesting when a band calls themselves Palette Knife, an implement used to mix and apply paint. They are best described as ‘emo’ but on ‘Keyframe’ they spread and smear that sound, making for a record that is as distinctive as it is striking.
The album is a follow up to 2023’s ‘New Game +’ and you can immediately hear a change. Where that album had a soft, electronic opening this one opens with the distorted roar of a dropped guitar. It’s a sound that neatly illustrates the difference. This is a more straightforward record, the sound is dirtier, more direct but that doesn’t mean it’s simple. For the unfamiliar Palette Knife’s work is a mixed medium, a combination of technical wizardry and an emo vocal style. If you imagine an instrumental band like TTNG or Delta Sleep who make good use of melodic note runs and then add Pup style vocals over the top you won’t be too far away. It’s an interesting combination, presented in an unusual way and the reason is this; they’re careful not to over-stuff the sound. They’re either singing or playing fiddly guitar parts. The most obvious example is ‘Phoenix Down’ which begins with those melodic scales, but takes a full two minutes before the vocals enter. However, despite using this idea throughout the album they’re keen to play with it in interesting ways, making the record quite a tricky beast.
A keyframe is a drawing that defines the start or end of a transition. That’s a great way to think about the record as it feels like a clear division, a beginning or an end of the music they’ve been making for the last seven or so years. You could call it a reimagining or a peak, and the reason is they make strong choices. Indeed, one of the strongest is the very bright, twangy guitar sound that gives the album a light airiness. Even the palm muted sections of songs like ‘Leviathan’ have a single-coil, Telecaster-esque brightness which makes the guitars stand out but also makes them quite harsh, like audio cheesewire. Once you get past this though, and it might take a few listens, the record’s strengths become more apparent. Beneath the jagged jangling, the band are engaged in a tug-of-war. This gives the songs an unusual energy; the winner of course, is the listener.
The album’s standouts include last year’s single ‘Prototype V.2’, which uses a massive drum sound to give it a stompy persistence while the other instruments fight to make their mark, while ‘Ratking Regicide’ feels like the ultimate expression of the band’s sound. Between bouts of chaos and noisy breakdown its makes great use of every noodling lick. It’s a stunning song but that doesn’t take away from the other, more restrained, cuts.
The album is at its most interesting when it makes strong choices. This includes the slower tempo of ‘Limit Break’, which is more of singer-led song or ‘Faultsiphon’ which cleverly folds the vocal around the guitar riffs. Similarly, the delicate singing at the opening of ‘Honors English’ is really effective at changing up the style.
Returning to the idea of an artist, the way to test an impressionist is to get them to paint something you recognise. Thus you can hear the change from the band’s biggest single 2023’s ‘Jelly Boi’ with its straightforward, insular lyrics. It’s not that they have abandoned this approach, more that it has been squeezed in a different direction. You can hear it on songs like ‘Limit Break’ but there’s a sense of growth and maturity or at least, they’re expressing it differently.
On this album the band draws from numerous sources but their main feature is what you could call ‘passive modernity’. This comes from the idea that geeks have inherited the earth, which is an allusion to traditionally geeky pastimes entering the mainstream. Video game references and niche allusions are more widely applicable than they first appear, for example. Combining this with sweeping statements like “Giving up feels way too good” means there is a fair chance the band might be on your wavelength.
The major drawback here is that although the songs are doing different things the guitar parts unintentionally makes them feel a little samey. This is not because they are identical but because they all use same style of lick. To work around this the band structure each song differently , at times making them sound like a less wild Fall Of Troy, but it can be a little wearing and you find yourself anticipating the fiddly guitar parts. This isn’t a bad thing, it’s more a feature of their sound, but it is slightly unforgiving.
Despite this, each song has its own defining feature. ‘Mimic’ has a great opening riff and a real swagger to the way it moves while ‘Leviathan’ plays out over a buzzing, burning amp sound which gives it a strange atmosphere. The upbeat ‘Sleep Paralysis’ leans more into a punky vibe, making it the ideal choice for a single and one for the curious to check out.
Palette Knife’s new record avoids broad strokes. ‘Keyframe’ is a piece of technical emo expressionism.
IAN KENWORTHY