Paris Paloma – Cacophony Review

Robbed of a chance to see Paris Paloma at Leeds Festival because the wind intervened, we hunkered down and waited for the next occasion. In the meantime, why not Cacophony, the songwriter’s debut album filled with the same energy and passion which guided her extravagant and folk-like run of singles preceding this album. Paloma slots in nicely to the folk boom – the key is a change of image. Those alt-pop additions steal her away from the fundamental Yorkshire-like explosion of acts like Henry Parker and Katie Spencer and push Paloma into the throes of folklore and the excitement which comes from those vivid images. Lean into those spectres and the silence of nature and see what you find. Paloma certainly does, and what reveals itself is a series of capable and charmed folk-like songs.  

Those foreboding and atmospheric moments make up the best parts of Cacophony. From the staggering opener My Mind (Now) to the sharpness heard on the follow-up Pleaser, the joys of alt-pop folk and all the wispy influences to come from it are assured here. Paloma has a consistency to her presence through what is an ambitious near-hour of tonal similarities. Dependable works which fixate on the chances taken or the memories held to, as they are on His Land, where the real strengths of Cacophony lay. It is when this tonal joy is severed from the darker side of the lyrics, the slower drawl and the realism which can so easily tie to the escapism of distant lands and natural beauties, where Cacophony falters. Those poppier riffs are heard on Drywall in spots, where Paloma loses sight of the more out-there intricacies of her lyrical form but tries to keep the instrumental passion burning.  

But the romantic hangups and reflective tones found elsewhere are at least interesting. Soft spots of joy come through the acoustic passions, the neat turns of folk fundamentals as they are blurred into those warm genre depths. Warmth is the key here. All the best bits of Cacophony provide a crackling heat, an energy to it which, like the shows Paloma puts on, have a communal sense to them. Cacophony mainly provides a test of the pop-oriented waters and some of them are far stronger than others. Confidence is key and as the album begins drifting away from those folk roots and into a showier style, as it does on As Good a Reason, the real side of Paloma and the wilder side of her writing becomes clear.  

Some of it comes across as trying to appeal to those who fawn over wordplay, Triassic Love Song springs to mind though the backstory is sweet, while the bulk of Cacophony strikes a welcome and folk-heavy chord. Paloma is tremendous here, and in spots finds a sound which can define her career. There is plenty to work with and the wider spread of a debut album is both understandable and necessary as listeners come to terms with the potential of her style. When Paloma dedicates her voice to the no-frills folk sound there comes an impressive depth and detail, a lush overhaul of the genre which is moved on well, often with a subtle few punches of harpsichord or finger-plucked guitar. It is those promises of smaller detail, of the sound which can so easily humanise an artist, that makes Cacophony such an interesting listen.