Few artists are as skilled at conjuring nostalgia in thought-provoking ways as
Alan Palomo
. As
Neon Indian
, he shaped the way chillwave blurred the boundaries between past, present, coolness, and kitsch.
World of Hassle
, his first album under his own name, plays with similar concepts, but the execution is different enough to justify the change in moniker. Borrowing the polished wit of
I'm Your Man
-era
Leonard Cohen
and
Steely Dan
and the equally sophisticated sounds of
Bobby Caldwell
and Japanese city pop,
Palomo
delivers songs that are more playful, and more literal, than his previous work. Like
's music and chillwave as a whole,
's simulations of late-'80s and early-'90s slickness evoke obsolete technology. The grooves and instrumentation bounce and ripple like vintage screensavers, while "Alibi for Petra" could soundtrack a late-night telephone hotline commercial. As a solo artist, however,
renders his homages with crystalline accuracy. "Club People"'s sleek, funky love letter to city pop could appear on one of the
Pacific Breeze
compilations. The '80s sophisti-pop tropes on "Nobody's Woman" -- a loping reggae beat, cascading electric piano melodies, heroic doses of sax -- are impeccably crafted. The hyper-detailed worlds
creates on each track are just as specific. On "La Meurtriere,"
L'Imperatrice
's
Flore Benguigui
becomes a Europop femme fatale as the song dances on the line between glamorous and tacky.
Mac DeMarco
appears on "Nudista Mundial '89," an electro-tropical dream so immersive "it's a state of mind," and
himself takes the spotlight on "The Return of Mickey Milan," a glittery tribute to "the dream weaver for the power pop believers." This cheeky self-awareness is the biggest difference between the music of
. Like the rest of
, the humor is geekily precise.
's best moments find the realness within the shiny facades. "The Wailing Mall" is
's clearest tribute to
Cohen
, juxtaposing slickly commercial sounds and subversive lyrics ("Good luck trying to leave an endless sprawl in the U.S. of A") in a clever union of style and substance. He extends the metaphor of "Is There Nightlife After Death?" with wistful beauty, imagining an after-hours heaven populated with sleeping angels and streetwalker stars. ~ Heather Phares