Another First Aid Kit album, despite the promises.

After a post-divorce album, it makes sense to go for a happier, more upbeat follow-up. Ruins, the last record from Swedish folk sisters Klara and Johanna Soderberg, took heavy inspiration from Klara’s split from her fiancé. It makes perfect sense to follow that up with an ostensibly pop-leaning title after a horse used as a symbol for running wild and free. Sadly, Palomino’s attempts to live up to that promise fall short through no fault of the sisters themselves. Their vocals are diminished by a lack of hooks in the music, repetitive songs and inconsistent writing. 

The promise of a pop-leaning album is hooks from both the music and vocals. The latter should be easy with their pedigree with harmonies. Unsurprisingly, Klara and Johanna do their part, but the music behind them feels gated when it should be euphoric. “Angel” comes in with a righteous refrain as the sisters to “love you even if you can’t love me.” Still, the music is relatively flat, with the clanging guitars providing the only bit of presence in the mix. The harmonies on “Ready to Run” are world-class as a hook consisting of “take it slow” turns transcendent. Yet, none of the instruments provide any support until the coda. The violins on “The Last One” is the only moment Klara and Johanna get any melodic help. They perform in a way befitting ear-wormy synth leads and accents of triumphant horns and strings that are not present here. 

Instead of melody, the instrumentation is there for atmospheric effect. As a result, the more low-key songs tend to be more likable. The plucky bass and stabs of horn on “Turning Onto You” work for a low-key, cute love song, and the tense knots of guitar on “A Feeling that Never Came” are a good fit for the titular frustration. “29 Palms Highway” features some well-placed strings and heavenly backing vocals to support a love letter for the late Gram Parsons. Everything sounds fine, aside from the occasionally shrill vocal production squandering Klara and Johanna’s work and some seemingly useless synth drizzles on “Angel” and “29 Palms Highway.” 

Sadly, while the music has its bright points, many songs feel repetitive. The title of “A Feeling that Never Came” implies a pent-up frustration, but the last half of the song feels like an outro that refuses to end. “Fallen Snow” and “Nobody Knows” are the most egregious, especially with the jumpy lead melody of the former taking up too much time. A significant problem is with guitars. Aside from “A Feeling” and the intimate finger-picking on “Wild Horses II,” they feel relegated to a rather stale strumming. Such playing work to provide rhythm yet is often called to take the lead when the synths, pianos, or horns are not forcing their way to the front. 

While there’s little unique about the content of Palomino, sometimes simple writing can do wonders, especially with Johanna and Karla delivering them. “The Last One” is built around the simple statement, “I want to be the last one you ever love.” Yet, there’s enough detail about the protagonist’s fear of needing someone’s touch to work and implied conflict in overcoming that fear to give the chorus a power it might not otherwise have. The chorus observation of the two differing over which version of “Wild Horses” is better gives character to this familiar scene of a couple growing apart over a road trip on “Wild Horses II.” “Angel” stands out the most lyrically, an examination of self-doubt that features the album’s best turns of phrase, like “All of this pain that I’ve kept concealed / Thought if I didn’t speak it, it wouldn’t be real.” There’s a boldness and confidence to the song’s promise to love herself despite her anxiety that would have been nice to hear more of across the album. 

First Aid Kit has a history of one too many platitudes and weak similes, and Palomino does not shake that bad habit. “Like a beggar, on my knees” and “Like a prisoner, set me free” contribute to “Out of My Head” being one of the worst songs here, especially with “Angel” following up with a much better take on similar themes. “You could always unravel me like twine” from “Fallen Snow” and “You got me hanging on / Like the words to my favorite song / Like the night turns into dawn” in “Turning Onto You” are not that much better. Again, Johanna and Karla have the expressive power to turn the mundane into powerful. Still, these go beyond the ordinary into placeholders that snuck into the final draft. This is not the kind of music where that amateurish quality flies. 

Despite an attempt at reinvention First Aid Kit finds itself in the familiar position of relying on vocal talent to overcome its weak spots. These ladies need more interesting instrumentation and consistent writing because five albums in the final product still do not do justice to their abilities.