Picture this: it’s the heat of the day in a neighborhood in the middle of Palm Springs. The sun heats stones so hot that even scorpions avoid them as they pass. A small “Sold!” sign dangles underneath a mailbox, creaking slowly as it sways in the breeze. Without warning, a bat swings through the mailbox, crushing the tin and tearing it clear from the ground. A high-pitched cheer rings out triumphantly, decreasing in pitch as the juvenile delinquent zooms past in a street-converted dune buggy. That’s the imagery I saw when previewing the upcoming album by Carline Rose: Gentling the Horse at the Walt Whitman Mall.
The guitars are crunchy, drums snappy, and vocals playfully snarky, as the tumultuous energy brilliantly and chaotically propels me forward. I could be at a carnival ramming bumper cars into nearby drivers or shooting beer cans with my friends at a remote location outside the city limits—either feels equally at home in the music.
The burning palm tree matches the style well: a tree representing playful relaxation, now up in flames, likely set on fire by a cohort of kids starved for stimulation. Some would call the town home; to the youth, it’s a prison. Carline teases us with the glamor of breaking free on this album. With all its vigor, I can’t wait to listen to the entire project.