The title track establishes the album’s central preoccupation: persistence, resilience, the dogged determination to keep going when the world offers precious little encouragement. “Keep it burning, the flame inside of you” might scan as platitudinous in lesser hands, but H\u00e5kan “Hawk” Soold and his bandmates have the good sense to leaven their earnestness with wit and a healthy dose of sardonic observation. These are grown-ups making grown-up rock and roll, and they’ve no time for empty gestures.<\/p>
Jonathan Segel’s production gives the record a warm, analogue heft that suits the material perfectly. The basic tracks were committed to 24-track tape at Stockholm’s Real Music Studio, capturing the band’s live interplay before digital overdubs added color and texture. The result feels immediate and lived-in, as if you’ve stumbled upon the Pals mid-rehearsal rather than listening to a carefully constructed studio artifact.<\/p>
The twin-guitar attack of Soold and Anders Sahlin provides the album’s backbone, drawing from the jagged telepathy of Television and the paisley-tinged reverie of The Dream Syndicate. But these aren’t mere copyists\u2014their melodic sensibility owes as much to Big Star’s power pop as it does to the Velvet Underground’s drone-heavy explorations. Bengt Alm’s bass and Olov \u00d6qvist’s drums form a rhythm section that grooves without showing off, providing the steady foundation upon which the guitars can take flight.<\/p>
“The Hawk Moth” stands as the album’s most pointed moment, skewering our contemporary plague of misinformation with the kind of dry sarcasm that only comes from observing the circus for too long. The reference to “fake news clowns” might date the song for some listeners, but the underlying anxiety\u2014about certainty, about truth, about who to trust\u2014feels depressingly evergreen. Musically, it rocks with the kind of swagger Mott The Hoople made their calling card, all strutting rhythm and defiant guitars.<\/span><\/p> The ballads\u2014”Love’s Not the Answer,” the title track, “A Sliver of Hope”\u2014reveal the Pals’ gift for emotional nuance. These aren’t the mawkish love songs of youth but clear-eyed examinations of relationships that fray and fail despite our best efforts. The band resists the temptation toward either cynicism or sentimentality, occupying instead a middle ground that feels honest and hard-won.<\/span><\/p> “The Social Loner” ventures into unexpected territory, beginning as a live-recorded instrumental before Segel’s studio wizardry transforms it into something approaching cinematic grandeur. Chris Cacavas contributes keyboards while Segel adds violin, BBC Orchestra samples lending the piece a brooding, Badalamenti-esque atmosphere. It’s the album’s boldest departure, and it pays off handsomely.<\/span><\/p> The supporting cast of Italian musicians Stiv Cantarelli and Francesco Bonfiglio, along with Martin Ek’s trumpet flourishes, adds depth without cluttering the arrangements. These are musicians who understand that sometimes the best contribution is knowing when to step back.<\/span><\/p> *Keep it Burning* won’t revolutionize rock and roll\u2014that’s not its purpose. Instead, it offers something more valuable: a dozen well-crafted songs that engage both head and heart, played by a band who’ve spent two decades honing their craft. The Plastic Pals understand that perseverance isn’t about grand gestures but about showing up, doing the work, and trusting that quality will find its audience. This album is proof that philosophy can still yield dividends.<\/span><\/p>\n\n\n\n\nhttps:\/\/theplasticpals.com\/<\/a>\n\n\n\n\n
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