Thematically, singer Rody Walker explores through these songs the idea of what America means when it speaks of its own ‘greatness’. In this, he’s not only interesting, but intelligently balanced; he points out that Donald Trump’s great America is great only for a minority, but that the country shouldn’t be thrown out with the orange bathwater. Instead, while the bad is addressed, there’s also a sense of celebrating the parts of the country which are genuinely good.
Knowing this is what gives Palimsest a much-needed heart, because without it, musically it’s a record that’s crafted with expertise and skill, but that feels vacuum-packed into its own perfectly precise remit, squeaky clean enough to perform surgery on. All Hands sounds like an excellent guitarist shredding along to an arcade game, while The Fireside’s precision is robotic. Occasionally, such as on Soliloquy and the rushing The Canary, they muster up some fire to propel themselves somewhere higher, but ironically it’s when they let their impressive musical chops take a back seat that this happens the most.