It is a strange world we live in where one is more likely to find someone on stage with a computer than an actual instrument. While this may make the purists weep there has certainly been a mixing of cultures, where the gurus of electronic dance and ambiance have started to dip their toes in the indie rock pool. Or would it be fairer to say that it is the other way around? It matters little. It is 2012, and in 2012 for better or worse the laptop is as much an instrument as a guitar or drums. There is certain amount of adjustment that comes with this territory, but a few bands have stood out, especially this year in terms of making a name for themselves in this proverbially wild west of sound. Two such bands have been written about here on the blog already, Grimes and Purity Ring, and here I am to tell you about a third, Laurel Halo. Laurel Halo has been around for a while, though you may not know about her, she has recorded under a few different names and has been putting out material for a while now. But now there is this, Quarantine, the first easy to grasp album in her discography, an album that lets you know exactly what it is by the end of the first track. The album is like a house of cards, beautiful and intricate, but at the same time frail. The way in which the sounds begin small and then stack on top of each other adds to this metaphor, each track builds from the beginning into something uneasy, into something uncertainly beautiful that feels like it could topple at any minute. But like all well-constructed house of cards it never does.
Like many good albums, Quarantine is one of contradictions. That becomes evident just by looking at the cover. Beautiful Asian schoolgirls; smiling and laughing while they cut themselves up with samurai swords, spewing blood guts and rainbows, an album cover like that is certainly an indicator that you are in for something a little bit different. And so too with the music. Halo contrasts the eerie electronic sounds with perhaps even eerier familiar sounding pop, with the beauty of her own voice hovering over the sprawl effortlessly. Quarantine warps what might be pop into something dark and imminently dangerous, instead of a well-remembered tune Halo here spins forgotten dreams from places like a childhood home, paths once well walked but now abandoned. Plain and simple she sounds like a ghost, not the kind of ghost that is looking to haunt you but the kind that will tell you it’s whole life’s story because no one else is there to listen.
The thing that most impresses me about Quarantine is how all of the tracks tell a narrative, even the ones that don’t have any words. The second to last track, Nerves, for instance starts out strong like most of the others, but quickly fades, it devolves into what seems like the random pushing of buttons at ever slowing intervals. It fizzles out and is gone, like ambitions and good intentions that don’t necessarily turn out bad, but at eh very best don’t lead to anything. It is that sort of production that can tell you more about an artist than perhaps even they can through their own lyrics, and that is saying something here, because Halo seems to have plenty to say. One of the complaints that I have with Purity Rings first release is that often their lyrics sound like clichés or afterthoughts. I never feel that way with Laurel Halo. Everything here is expertly crafted. And while it may not be the best album of the year it is certainly worth a listen
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