Words by Sean Moeller, Illustration by Johnnie Cluney, Recording engineered by Mike Gentry
"In a certain light, at a certain hour, I still feel like I am seventeen," sings Pale Young Gentlemen lead singer Mike Reisenauer, with a barely bothered croon that still sounds as if it were coming from a gentleman, someone who has yet to be completely ravaged by aging times. He sounds like a man who still tends to find the most everyday things to be the most remarkable and staggeringly pretty things imaginable. He might even find it terrifying how much he feels, when he wants to feel less, just so the comedown didn't have to be so obvious and so brutal at the end of the emotion's cycle. Pale Young Gentlemen, his group out of Madison, Wisconsin, is a musical outfit that will make you feel all warmed up. It will make you feel as if you've awakened within a foggy, late spring night and you're finding everything to be filled with sexiness in the limited visibility. There's an implied stance not to disturb the balance or the delicacy of the evening, to not mess it up. We're here now and everything's fine, just fine. The elaborate instrumentation makes us feel as if we're guarded by chandeliers and that we're up to our eyeballs in delicious, vintage wine and the sights and sounds of brief, but realistic dreams. We feel as if we're in a sequence of slept-on delights that, while groggy and paced with the step of the steady breezes of springtime, give us a chance to feel as if we're anyone but ourselves for just a short amount of time. We're able to get out of here because where we've been taken is so unlike where we call home, even if we might call the pined and wooded Wisconsin home. It's a Wisconsin on harps - a Wisconsin with a blessed ache for a hum.