SwimFish by Jeanette Palmer

Jeanette Palmer's devilishly

charming debut cd, swimfish, demonstrates she's a

guitar-strumming Scheherazade, ready to show you the

beautiful surface and the scary underbelly. Each

track presents a complete story and aesthetic.

Whether it's a sardonic look at her hometown in "From

Camarillo", or the wiseass "Love or Hunger", Palmer's

lovely voice moves fluidly between innocence and

experience, both earnest and snide. You are sure to

find yourself a new theme song in the almost

Ramones-esque "I Want a Pill" with sly lyrics and

gleeful Violent Femmes kind of sing-a-longability.

Shades of Tom Waits and even The Cure thread their way through the atmospheric and triumphant echoes of

"Storm's Comin'", showing this chick with guitar's

theatrical range. If Palmer's "Looking for Trouble"

were in the ring with Sheryl Crowe's "All I Wanna

Do...", Palmer's quizzical discontent would K.O. Crowe

any day.

If you live in the New York area, you definitely want

to catch her live show.

-- KV

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Review By Writer Catherine Penfold-Waxman

...Her songs are thoughtful and thought-provoking, sweet and sharp, intense and languid - all at the same time. Simple melodies and uncomplicated lyrics, yet overflowing with emotions. Take "From Camarillo," for instance. I've never been there, but every time I hear the song I share Jeanette's desperation to leave the suffocating town. And "Lookin' For Trouble" makes me antsy. Play it on a Saturday night and see where you wake up on Sunday. "I Want a Pill" should be written out and taped to the wall of your Doctor's office, so you know what to ask for when you go in. (Note: If anyone finds the pill that makes batteries last, please contact me.) The final analysis: Chick with a guitar? Yes. Typical chick with a guitar? No. My favorite chick with a guitar? Yes.

---CP

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Review By Recording Artist Eric Swenson

(aka Mr. Swenson - http://www.mrswenson.com)

Have you ever seen a girl asleep on the train, her mouth hanging open just a bit, her eyes fluttering -- and she might be just a little bit awake, but you want to risk copping a feel anyway? If so, maybe you should picture Wendy O'Williams' switchblade meeting Pink's larynx which splits open with a stream of Nova Scotia cream briolette all over Chrissie Hynes whose knee lands in Sarah McLachlan's ovaries which causes her to bounce into some other tainted bitch (Liz Phair) who consequently bends over and catches it in the ass with the tip of Courtney Love's pointed cowboy boot, inspiring all to cry in abandon over careers permanently displaced by the simple, timeless elegance of Jeanette Palmer's debut CD, SwimFish. This CD is unusual, to say the least. First, I cried to it and set about to outdo Hemingway at a Karaoke bar. On the second track, I skipped to the bodega, humming the melody. On the third track, I air-guitared (with my left hand) and shook my congressman's with my right. Evocative lyrics, Beaver Cleaver earnestness and genuinely positive energy can do crazy things to a music journalist. Exhibiting a healthy recognition for the a-capella tradition, Palmer's simple guitar and highly controlled vocal intonations evoke a level of hopeful violence not experienced since the early Phranc. Although Palmer is not known in local circles (NYC) for espousing lesbian histrionics, she outflanks those two ovarian soloists with a rabid vengeance, Little Big Horn style! Talk about Connie Chung on CD: subjects covered include Indian-giving, feverish irony, counterespionage, competitive intelligence, teledildonics and youthful historical revisionism. Sprouted from military seed, Palmer spreads the collected crumbs from a lifetime of brat travels across the land made for you and me. Like Judy Collins, Joni Mitchell and Karen Carpenter before her, Palmer's mission is to evoke the mystery of Wonder Woman whilst simultaneously reinventing the clan of the mellow, all in time to paint a perfect "10" for the peeps in the front row who know that she doesn't wear underwear, either. Want to learn more secrets? Buy this CD!!

---ES

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