MORE

Local Record Review: 'Carny Life' by Pebaluna

Pebaluna
Pebaluna

Pebaluna
"Carny Life"

See Also:
*Local Record Review: 'This One's For Terminal Boredom' by Roman Candles
*Local Record Review: 'We Are Locally Grown' by Locally Grown Collective
*Local Records Review: 'Four Steps in Corsets' by Yellow Red Sparks

It seems that RX Bandits are getting as well known for their individual projects as much as their collective work and longevity. We recently profiled the continuing work of C-Gak, now there's a new band's debut album out with Matt Embree playing guitar and contributing vocals. But Pebaluna -- either a pun on Petaluma, some sort of moon rock reference, or both -- isn't just him or him as bandleader by any means, being essentially a new group with its own almost surprising appeal. Surprising, in that after another summer of Too Many Dully Obvious Indie Rock Records, it's always nice to hear something that simply works.

Part of the appeal of

Carny Life

is the constant feeling of engaging playfulness as opposed to the sense of enforced campfire singalong -- and vocalist/guitarist Lauren Coleman, a veteran of the

Sound of Animals Fighting

along with Embree and C-Gak, is the key here. Possessed with the kind of understated but strong and clear voice that would win attention on its own, she can just as easily bust out into a full-bodied performance -- "All Falling Down," the opening song, steadily shifts into a near anthem.

The sweet duet of "Baby What's Wrong" between her and Embree and the barn-burning live-in-a-room acoustic kick of "Honey" are other showcases, while "Siren Song" has her calmly singing over something that should be from a spooky spy movie circa 1966. Jessica Lankford's drumming is another key factor -- the brush shuffles on "No I Can't" aren't simply driving the song but also accentuating it along with everything from finger snaps, moody bass and Coleman's own performance It's sometimes startling -- in a gentle way -- how well the members are dictating mood as a team, such as when the somewhat darkly contemplative "Sister Sara" fades out and then the perky reverie that's the title track gently swings into life. Add in some summery soul moves on "Hopeless" and garagey r'n'b on "Please Me" and just maybe this is the album for everyone that actually pulls it off.


Sponsor Content

Newsletters

All-access pass to top stories, events and offers around town.

Sign Up >

No Thanks!

Remind Me Later >