Conversations with Myself
The words psychedelic pop come to mind but I find Paul’s album to be less an experiment in musical styling as it is a prerequisite singer-songwriter album for an artist with much more potential. The first two tracks are saccharine at best and leave much to be desired in both production and quality while they’re not necessarily bad songs (poems put to music) I just find them to be well below par from a mostly melodic place. From the two songs opening the album, we enter very different territory about the 5 minute mark. the psychedelic aspects of the album kick in featuring some electronic production and more nuanced lyrical content that allows room both for interpretation and for the acknowledgment of altered states. Shimmering guitars lead [Misery] which sounds like something from the Beatles catalogue. My tiny amount of rock music expertise limits my ability to draw comparison. Pop continues in [Transcendental Hotel Room], a romantic account of an afternoon spent traversing the mind and the body. It’s repetitive and, therefore, catchy. The true gem of the EP is [Grandaddy Long Legs]. It’s a brooding, acidic rock track with chromatic guitars and atmospheric flourishes. A Bostonian river and champagne make appearances in the lyrics, at once as odd and unintelligible as they are purple and marked with hidden meaning. It’s easily my favorite.
With some encouragement we could have an excellent songwriter on our hands, one with the ability to craft a hook and produce: a male Lady GaGa which is to say a kind of David Bowie.