Caleb Jacobs probably couldn’t have picked a better name for his solo project than Plum. It’s sweet, juicy and colourful – it’s a punch of refreshment, delivered with a bang to the taste buds. It’s not boring like an apple, and doesn’t feel the need to flamboyantly overextend in the fruit dick measuring contest like a fucking dragonfruit. It’s just a beautiful, gorgeous Plum.
Confused? Probably. But take a garner at Plum’s latest single “Dead Leg”, and it’ll all make sense. Following on from last year’s Black Doris EP, Plum dives further into the washed synth territory that was only hinted at. Lush walls of sparkly sound shoot up on “Dead Leg”, reminding of Chromatics, Youth Lagoon and Washed Out. It’s simple, but there’s an elegance and satisfaction in that – by the end of this, there’s a solid chance that you’ll be just as satisfied as you would after having thrown down one of Jacobs’ titular purple fruit.
Plum will be launching “Dead Leg” on July 2nd at OAF Gallery Bar, on a bill that includes Melbourne’s Glaciers and the always fantastic Black Springs
Like most sports, I suck at Racquet Ball. However, unlike most sports, I’m not embarrassed about it. Because fuck racquet ball – that’s the sport equivalent of dying alone, and only being found nine months later when the stench is too much.
Plum, the new project of Caleb Jacobs (The Cathys) utilises a game of racquet ball for his debut video. Maybe its a reference to my earlier allegory, maybe it was just an excuse to wear all white and goggles. Whatever the reasoning, the only thing that matters is that it provides a great background for “Tiny Feet”, a pretty cool little tune that hums alongside the likes of Washed Out and Real Estate.
Emerging as a solo project from The Cathy’s, a Sydney band that wants to re-create the sounds of Santa’s Sleigh with guitars, Plum has a name as simple and tasty as the music that comes forth from the project.
“Pavement” is as close to the Elliot Smith renaissance as any Australian artist has come this year. There’s a chorus that goes, “Let the pavement be your friend”, which is damn suitable for a song that deflates you, and forces you into a reclining position. It’s mopier than an afternoon with Eeyore, and has all the drenched, grey beauty of a model out in the rain.