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Green shoots have burst forth from Parsnip, let’s warmly welcome the Australian group’s sophomore album ‘Behold’. Recorded across three sessions over the last three years, ‘Behold’ is a testament to Parsnip at their most creative, catchy and collaborative. This album showcases the multi-talents of all four members, with spirited performances adding dazzle to the thirteen tracks. Paris Richens lets the bass playfully roam. Carolyn Hawkins tumbles feeling into the drum rumble. Stella Rennex’s guitar soars alongside her saxophone work, whilst a sprightly keyboard is tenderly attended by Rebecca Liston. Everyone sings amidst this lush canopy.
Patience, environmental cues and internal signals are integral for a garden to flourish. The same can be said of the conditions necessary for ‘Behold’ to emerge. It is an album gleeful in reassessment, changed priorities and anticipation. The roots are deeply anchored to mystery, drinking up a hidden wonderment that lies within. ‘Monument’ is a twist of melody and mania, “For what am I? But a channel of light” they attest amongst the whoops and hollers. ‘The Babble’ sounds like Ray Davies playing Wordle for enlightenment. In fact most of these songs are pointing the way towards growth and understanding. ‘Turn to Love’ is mesmeric and timeless, thoroughly serene and perfectly judged. Parsnip write songs as a form of communion with the intangible in our increasingly delusory world, but there is always a gentle reminder; don’t take anything too seriously! “My head is gonna split in two, fix it with flour and glue” they demand on ultimate bop ‘Papier-Mâché’, this juxtaposition of mature resolve with childlike astonishment packs a more powerful punch.
On ‘Behold’, Parsnip explore both the inner and outer realms of consciousness with quick wits and some seriously quality jangle and jolt. ‘The Light’ is a whip smart workout, sprouting naturally from the propulsive nature of their debut album ‘When the Tree Bears Fruit’ (2019). ‘Placeholder’ is also devastatingly honest and channels The Field Mice as it buries itself like an arrow into your heart. The production is ambitious, with 12-string and acoustic guitars, percussion, piano, saxophone and harmonium all sitting comfortably in these outstanding songs. Drawing comparisons with Dolly Mixture, Sara Goes Pop and Look Blue Go Purple, Parsnip are an animated ensemble, full of life, emotional complexity and humour. The laughter in the dark is real, but then the sun comes up and we all must meet the day. Even the flowers turn their faces. Behold!
Our take: It’s been a few years since we heard from this Melbourne band whom I’ve always really liked. Even before I listened to Behold, its artwork (particularly when taken alongside the long gap between releases) seemed to hint at a shift in direction, with its earthy color palette and fisheye cover photo bringing to mind The Left Banke’s Too. I don’t know if Parsnip meant the artwork to be a signal that they’ve gone baroque pop, but Behold is certainly poppy and there’s a hell of a lot going on. The music is densely layered, diving fully into psychedelia with “Duality,” but at other moments more in the vein of the Fall / early the Clean-influenced clatter that’s been a through-line in Aussie punk of the last decade or two. Interestingly, while Behold seems like an ambitious album to me—its thirteen songs and 34-minute running time feel epic by today’s standards—its release has been fairly low-key, with only a UK pressing on Upset the Rhythm so far. Behold’s length and density mean I’m going to need to sit with for a while to fully appreciate it, and my fellow stateside fans should nail down a copy while they can.