Nicol Parkinson is Palomica, whose second album is awkward, raw bedroom pop, a little ungainly but rescued by a rare melodic sense. The influences come from everywhere; the Pastels and Jad Fair might be spiritual mentors but ‘Ribbons’ sounds like the Velvet Underground smothered in glitchy noise while the quick-footed, melodic indiepop of ‘Honeydew’ has the word-streams and boy-girl duetting of Belle & Sebastian. That works best for Parkinson’s voice, which has a Stuart Murdoch-style feyness best suited to those lighter tunes. If you have an issue with the voice, the songs are saved by the gorgeous melodic twists, like the ear-worming riff to ‘Water Walks’ and ‘Bellyful’’s nuggets of pop. Parkinson’s more avant side is expressed by ‘You Have The Softest Voice, mixing piano, birdsong and found sounds, while the almost 8-minute ‘Big Black Clouds’ is naïve pop that starts broodingly with fumbling chords and scratchy noise and stretches out into a long rhythmic cycle, full of tape manipulation, found sounds and electronic wailing behind a Kevin Ayers-style guitar/piano riff. It’s an intriguing half-hour: sometimes great, sometimes grating. But as DIY experimental pop that’s as sweetened with melody as it’s warped by ambient electronica, it’s worth hearing.