Hal-Lo Stranger

When we last left our Hal heroes, they’d capitalised on a thousand beehives of buzz and released the acclaimed, sunny pop Irish classic that was 2005’s self-titled debut. Touring followed, promises of a follow-up and then… nothing. Really, they left us. For some five years at least. Whatever the Killiney lads were off doing, thankfully that long-awaited sophomore album is finally here and finds the band sounding as golden as ever. Still, and I don’t want to come over like some furious, jilted lover here but, where the hell were they?!

Singer and chief songwriter David Allen – who, messily-haired and fresh-faced, hasn’t aged a day in the interim – smiles broadly, as he often does.
“I just wanted to go away,” he admits. “You’re surrounded by a small group of people for ages. Then you come home, having been out of touch with people for a long time. I kept writing songs, but I wanted to go traveling on my own time. I went to Europe, America, worked in various establishments. Trying to get back to normal, get my feet on the ground. I would play a gig here or there, basically just sitting around the pub. A few Paul Simon songs, drop one of mine in there. I wanted to get lost.”
Keyboardist Stephen O’Brien nods along, though he remained closer to home, building a studio and working with Fionn Regan and Bipolar Empire. Paul Allen, bassist and brother of David, also continued to make music and dipped into photography.
“We saw a lot of other bands rush a second album and not have much fun with it,” says Stephen. “We basically took two full years off.”
In the meantime, their fans waited patiently.
“We were always getting messages,” nods Allen. “People going, ‘I hope you do something soon!’ or…” O’Brien laughs: “‘Where are you?!’ Lives are busy things, they take a lot of maintenance.”
Was everyone on the same page as to when they should return, or was there a certain tension? The pair look at each other. “There’s always tension!” says Stephen. “Yeah,” agrees David. “Sometimes we don’t speak to each other for a long time, months maybe. But we know each other so well. We’re still trying to understand each other at the same time.”
They had plenty of opportunities to do so in the studio. The process was more DIY this time out. They recorded in Stephen’s place without major label interference. The heady 2003 days of the label bidding war are long gone.
“We were lucky then,” says O’Brien. “We got in before the big bang. The last record was made for a hundred grand, we made this one for a little less!”
“We were the only ones doing it which was kinda nice,” says Allen. “With the last one, you’d have the record company coming in halfway through to see how it’s going and it was a nerve-wracking thing. Having a studio/den helped as well.”
“Well that made it take even longer!” Stephen exclaims. “You don’t know when to get off the merry-go-round. You can be spinning on it for another year before you realise you better get off. It all depends on the amount of cigarette breaks you have.”
A mountain of empty 20 packs later, and we have the layered, string-drenched The Time, The Hour. All the better for their perfectionist persuasion, it neatly updates their original blueprint. They confess to a Bee Gees influence on the glorious ‘Why Do You Come Here’, make eyes at contemporary artists like Grizzly Bear and yet still clearly have their Neil Young and Beach Boys records.
Born and reared by Dublin’s southern coast, they admit that seaside living is a big influence, even if the weather ain’t California. In their seduction techniques as much as music.
“On the topic of the inspiring things about the sea…” David tentatively proffers. “You’re going to laugh at this! I was seeing a girl, she was living in Brighton. I remember being on the telephone to her and I got her to go down to the sea as well, hundreds of miles away, and said, ‘I’m going to slap the sea and it’s going to ripple out to you, because we’re connected.’” Stephen sighs, “Aw, romantic!” sarcastically as Allen powers on valiantly. “Well, it was about connection and the sea connects the whole world!”
Did it work?
“’Yeah, it did,” he grins. “She ended up getting a bit of, eh, ‘longshore drift’!” The good ship Hal disappeared over the horizon for too long but they’ve finally wrangled some shore leave to bring their music home. Enjoy it while it lasts.

The Time, The Hour is out now. Hal play the Jägermeister Freezer Sessions in The Forum, Waterford on June 23.