Hal

Believe it or not, being labelled the Great White Hope could be construed as being a burden for a band. The not-entirely-inconsiderable weight of expectation has been bearing down on this Dublin quartet since their inception last year, but like the troupers that they are, they’ve been carrying it off with typically understated élan.
In a world largely punctuated with angular, upturned-collar punk riffery, Hal are a glittering exception. For an audience weaned largely on scruffy garage angst, Hal stands alone as an affable, nicely hazy sort of record.
So…do they or don’t they? There had been much handwringing in these parts as to whether Hal’s debut album would bear the hallmarks of The Thrills’ sound, so you’ll probably be relieved that Hal doesn’t quite deliver on that particular threat. Granted, the Beach Boys influence is most certainly present and correct, as is that summery, sand-in-your-shoes vibe, but that’s where the similarity ends. Effectively eschewing all that is fashionable in music right now, Hal have produced a shimmering, blindingly optimistic paean to those carnivalesque, Beatles-era days of yore.
Hal is overwhelmingly nostalgic, boasting a mosaic of influences which makes them sound like everyone and no-one simultaneously.
‘Keep Love As Your Golden Rule’ and ‘I Sat Down’ possess the winsome warmth of Elton John circa ‘Tiny Dancer’, while ‘Play The Hits’ is the kind of ‘70s-influenced dreamboat pop that brings to mind the most cheery Osmonds or Monkees numbers. On the other hand, ‘Satisfied’ is a soaring slice of country-tinged balladry, and ‘My Eyes Are Sore’ is an expansive, though strangely ticklish, sort of track…the kind that Mercury Rev might be proud to call one of their own. Effectively, it’s the kind of gloriously textured album that confounds expectation and subtly surprises with every track.
So where to from here for Hal? Thus far, their honeyed sound has done them no harm in their quest to make serious inroads into the UK. Hal is a startlingly authentic, sanguine album, yet it does run the risk being reduced to the status of a sugary, upbeat pop album by many an indie purist. Granted, if anguished, tormented indie is more your bag, Hal might not quite be the album for you…but your collection will be all the worse for it.
From here on in, there’s nowhere left for our boys to go but all the way.