Album Review: Palmino Pia’s Self-Titled Debut
Palmino Pia's self-titled album sneaks up on you like an old friend who's changed just enough to make you take notice. It’s not trying too hard, but it still manages to leave a mark. The record is a mix of raw emotion and carefully layered sounds that feel both personal and universal. And while the whole thing holds together nicely, there are two tracks in particular—“Faded Echoes” and “Paper Sky”—that stick with me long after the music stops.
“Faded Echoes” hits different right from the start. The opening chords grab hold of your attention without screaming for it, and then Palmino’s voice comes in soft yet steady. There’s something about the way the lyrics talk about losing someone or something—but not completely letting go—that feels painfully real. You don’t need to have gone through exactly what they’re describing to get it; it’s one of those songs that just gets you. Plus, the subtle shift halfway through, where the tempo picks up ever so slightly? That little twist makes all the difference—it’s clever but doesn’t feel forced.
Then there’s “Paper Sky,” which might as well be its own universe. This track has this dreamy, almost ethereal vibe going on, but it never fully drifts away into pretentiousness. Instead, it keeps your feet planted just enough with some grounded percussion work. I think what really stays with me here is how simple yet evocative the chorus is—it loops in your head like a mantra you didn’t know you needed. Honestly, if this song doesn’t make you stare out a window and ponder life for at least five minutes, you might wanna check your pulse.
What strikes me most about this album isn’t just the technical skill (which, let’s face it, is impressive) but the fact that Palmino seems unafraid to let imperfections shine through. Like, yeah, maybe the vocals waver slightly in places, or certain transitions aren’t perfectly smooth—but isn’t that kinda the point? Life ain’t polished either, and neither should art be.
In the end, listening to Palmino Pia feels less like consuming a product and more like flipping through someone’s diary—if their diary was filled with haunting melodies and poignant reflections. But here’s the kicker: despite its emotional weight, the album leaves you feeling lighter, somehow hopeful. Maybe because it reminds us we’re not alone in our messiness—or maybe because good music does that thing where it turns pain into beauty. Whatever it is, hats off to Palmino Pia for pulling it off.
Oh, and hey—don’t ask me why, but now I kinda want to learn how to play guitar. Go figure.
