The Paper Kites – If You Go There, I Hope You Find It

Folk | Americana

61%

 

I’ve long seen The Paper Kites as a band where I struggle to put my finger on what separates their best tracks from their more forgettable offerings. Every past album of theirs has had at least a couple of tracks which I absolutely adored, with melodies that lingered in the forefront of my mind, arrangements that felt familiar and comforting. On paper though, I could never point to what it was about these tracks in particular that made my spirit soar, while those around them so often felt simply like perfectly pleasant and serviceable filler. Every new record leaves me thinking “I wish they could release a whole album full of tracks like X, Y and Z” without me coming any closer to articulating what sets those moments apart. It’s like falling in love, it can’t be explained. We like to think there’s some logic, that we have a “type”, that there’s some checklist of traits we find attractive and it’s simply a case of finding the person that ticks off the most. Our heart has other ideas. It picks someone out, and often the choice doesn’t make a lick of sense on paper, but ultimately we love regardless. 

There are certainly moments that I love within If You Go There. The rolling momentum and warm guitar tone of ‘Change of the Wind’ make it a perfect pick for any road trip playlist worth its salt. ‘When The Lavender Blooms’ reminds me a little of Glen Hansard’s ‘Love Don’t Leave Me Waiting’, with its soft shuffling groove and lilting melodies, and with occasional flashes of ‘Astral Weeks’ thrown in for good measure. Yet by far and away the highlight of the record is ‘Every Town’. The lush swells of steel guitar, the gorgeous lead melody, and with perhaps the most endearing earworm chorus of the band’s career acting as the cherry on top. 

Usually the gap between the special moments like these, and the tracks that surround them, feels an inch thin and a mile wide all at once. Yet for the first time I find myself able to point to the minute differences and how they’re able to set a track apart. Because on this, the band’s most stripped back release, the smallest detail is enough to make a world of difference. While not universally the case, on this record in particular a track’s quality seems intrinsically tied to how fleshed out the arrangements are. Songs like ‘A Word I Needed More’ and ‘Deep (In The Plans We Made)’, with their austere and repetitive acoustic guitar, feel like they’re practically drowning in their own languid melancholy. So much so that when other tracks put in even a modicum of effort – a bit of banjo on ‘Strongly In Your Arms’ or understated strings on ‘Stormwall’ – it’s enough to shine a welcome ray of light through the band’s self-inflicted gloom. 

Though in my mind I can conjure up what how I envisage a typical Paper Kites song, looking back at past records they each have their own subtly unique variation on that theme. At The Roadhouse had its warm and familiar house band feel, Roses was home to a wealth of charming duets, prior releases were aglow with bittersweet synths that evoked contemplative late nights spent on quiet, neon-lit city streets. When stood alongside its predecessors, the gloomy, stripped back folk that makes up the lions share of this latest record doesn’t compare very favourably. It has its moments of brilliance, but they’re frustratingly fleeting. If you’re looking for a great Paper Kites record – if you come here, I doubt you’ll find it.