Palomar

Photo by Jana Birchum

Palomar

"So I'm not going to say the name of our band. In case you don't like us, you can't talk shit about us afterward." The words from Palomar's frontwoman should be the motto for a new genre: insecurity-core. The Brooklyn quartet would be the poster kids of the movement. They've got everything needed to be legit because really, who doesn't want to see three cute girls play bliss-pop music? Not like rock-star huge, still good enough to be a thing – taut melodies, insouciant rhythms, smart lyrics – but there's no sauce. Or at least none consistent. Thing is, the solution might be something as simple as volume. Quiet parts seem to drip with doubt, but once they kick it in, it's like, "Hey, where was that in the verse?" Sure, playing with dynamics is part of a band's personality, but when the softer bits reveal the frailties, maybe it should find more excuses to rock out. Volume can do miracles. It might even make you want people to know who you are.