Having made a good mark with their first album, 
Palodine return on 
Garden of Deceit with another strong effort; if they are still reaching for a full sound of their own, they are well on their way to accomplishing that. Part of it can be heard in 
Katrina Whitney's singing, sounding darker and stronger than before, a passionate take on country/soul refracted through the amplified blast and involved arrangements provided by 
Michael Aryn and 
Whitney. It's not quite 
Dusty Springfield goes to hell, say, but the opening "Redwinged Blackbird" alone is the kind of song that upends all the staid alt-country conventions in favor of a dark throb that's closer to 
Earth than anything else. The thanks the band give to 
Low in their credits is an indicator as well, but instead of the preternatural control familiar from the Minnesota band's work, 
Palodine here almost play to a wide stage backdrop, their 
Walkabouts-derived theatricality given a strong new focus all their own. Nearly every song sounds like a drama (or if one prefers, a melodrama) in miniature, with 
Aryn's guitar drive, alternately a blast and an understated pace, and 
Whitney's commanding-then-cool singing driving things forward. But for all that the songs retain their individual identity rather than melting into each other; the end-on-a-tense-note cut of "Sweet Mouth, Black Heart" sounds little like the rolling shuffle of "Woman of Cain," especially with 
Whitney's sudden clipped calls signaling when 
Aryn cranks the volume in a dark strut. With other highlights like "A Dozen Stones" (with 
Aryn's solo a suddenly thrilling delight, a moment of lightness that definitely casts shadows) and the concluding "Magdalene," as moody but vibrant an album ender as one could hope to, to its credit, 
Garden of Deceit is 
Palodine's best moment yet and promises much for next time.