Larkin Grimm | Parplar | Review


It seems like an almost natural occurrence for Larkin Grimm to end up associated with Michael Gira's Young God Records.

She's certainly a kindred spirit to the acts that have flowed through its doors over the years.
Parplar is by many accounts her most conventional record but as with many
artists borne out of folk experimentation, eventually the essences of melody
and form have to peek their head from the clatter and clang sometime. Gira
acts as co-producer here and his hand may have had something to do with the
calming of Grimm's waters but in all honesty he's never really been one to
instill convention in an artist, so maybe not. While the noises and
outbursts that accompany her songs have become more cohesive her singularly
entrancing voice hasn't changed a bit. Larkin's high warble soars above a
beautiful mix of instrumentation that churns melodically as if forged from
the sounds of native winds. For an artist with such a tumultuous past she
resonates an unmistakable connection to nature and her surroundings that
might only be matched by artists like Mariee Sioux and Buffy St. Marie. This
is Grimm at her best, fully reaching the potential she'd always possessed.