Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
I'd imagine that the Des Moines, Iowa-based band Parlours has a reverse-hibernation schedule that it works off of. Unlike bears and any other animal that hibernates, this band seems as if it would coil itself away and sleep through those dog days of the summer, doing so in their tank tops and shorts, with the overhead fans circulating the stuffy air, the moths thwapping against the un-giving screens. They wouldn't mind missing all of those unbearable days, where you've already sweat through a shirt by the time you've seated yourself in the plush of your car, as you head off to work, just after breakfast. They could do without having to ward off mosquitoes and Japanese beetles or having to lather themselves with layers and layers of sunblock every time they decide to challenge the mercilessly sunny days. They would miss jumping into lakes and they'd likely miss the flashing of a sea of fireflies, but the rest they could do happily without so they'd just as soon skip it. It's in the winter that they might hope they could transfer all of those stored hours of sleep from the summer months, turn them right into continuous days and nights, embracing the weather that forces people to remain inside. Parlours would stay inside like the sane people, but they might also think about leaving one or more of the windows open, to let in some of that brisk cold that lets you know you're alive. They would let it move around the rooms like a phantom, nipping them all over. Lead singer Dana Halferty seems to enjoy the opportunity to be the thick blanket for others, breaking out a cool, smoky voice that is never overbearing, but sultry, hitting you like a sack of down feathers. It seems as if she'll be there for you when you need some more heat. Near the end of the song, "Bobby On Repeat, Halferty sounds as if she's out on the hills after a big snowstorm, unable to run. She's being chased and she keeps falling down, the snow getting over the tops of her boots, melting its way down to those warm socks. It sounds like something frightening is happening behind her, but she's not afraid. She's sweating, but it feels like exercise. It sounds as if there's really nothing to worry about. She's been chased before, by this same beast.