Regardless, Choose Your Weapon is eclectic, joyful, musically impressive, and spiritually rich, so even a piecemeal listening experience is fulfilling. Maybe, it’s just too much of a good thing maybe, after enjoying the album a dozen-ish times, I’m spent, and happy to consume it in snack-sized portions. With so many highlights crammed into a sizeable dose, the album is draining. (The resilient, funk-laden “By Fire” is a tribute to Palm’s father, who passed away in a house fire “Atari” is, as one might expect, a salute to vintage gaming.) Picking whatever moment resonates with you is difficult, as each song is a self-perpetuating climax. Not romantic, necessarily, but simply love, as every song is tender at its core. Perhaps my studies have crossed the line in the sand and eked their way into my music listening, but trying to solve Weapon's puzzle is Occam’s Razor in action: the simplest theory often wins. Despite her impish charm, she consolidates Weapon: ' building a ladder of love to you/and I hope that, love, you built one too.' This line, while innocent enough, is Weapon's north star, asserting a direction in hindsight - a method to the madness. If Palm could be reigned in, it would be on closer “Building a Ladder”, a more conventional number by comparison.

Single “Breathing Underwater” is a vocal highlight, as Palm utilizes rapid successions, sighs, and staccatos, taking cues from drummer Perrin “Pez” Moss (though her commanding presence suggests it could easily be the other way ‘round). “Borderline with My Atoms” is equal parts arousal and spiritual cleansing. “Shaolin Monk Motherfunk” sees a smooth jazz groove yield to scat singing and chunky synths. Nai, however, has a remarkable ability to tie everything together, and the various tones and nuances she projects become a focal point, with her quirky lyrics often falling in the peripheral. To be fair, it is, somewhat with song titles like “Shaolin Monk Motherfunk” and “Only All the Time: Making Friends with Studio Owl”, we aren’t expecting straightforwardness. With an album as stylistically all over the place, channeling jazz fusion, soul, R&B, and prog, one might expect an elaborate concept to match. If the comically menacing cover bodes true, one can expect playful nostalgia, a myriad of flavours, and bizarre, worldly flair.

It’s this magical quality that makes Weapon difficult to justify to others on an emotional level, as what’s conveyed is often too good for clinical decoding, and its maze-like rejoicing is worth staying lost in for its seventy-minute runtime. Vocalist/guitarist Nai Palm’s delivery is both mystical and approachable - often confusing, but easily relatable in a visceral sense.

Perhaps the most exciting recent act to reinvigorate elements of soul music, they duly pay respects while striving to push it skyward, collecting many postcards along the way from God-knows-where. Australian quartet Hiatus Kaiyote take its title to heart, cycling through their arsenal, unfettered by conventions. Review Summary: Multi-dimensional, polyrhythmic food for the soul.Ĭhoose Your Weapon is boundless.

By fire hiatus kaiyote