Hanalei – Black Snow

After a decade of exploring projects like Great Apes, The Ghost and The Wunder Years, Brian Moss has returned to give his earlier project, Hanalei, new life.  While many of the latter exist strictly in the punk scene, Hanalei is better aligned with 90’s alternative acts like R.E.M. and The Lemonheads.  Those that recall the mid-00’s band’s early input likely recall it straddling the line between nostalgia and the rising tides of indie powerhouses, making the prospect of a revival all the more enticing.

Hanalei’s formal return takes the form of a ten-track full length entitled Black Snow.  It’s a breezy, dreary dose of altrock that encapsulates a sense of casual listening with a curious accompaniment of acoustic and electric strumming.  There is a hint of shoegaze, a backbone of indie rock and a sprinkle of folky overtones – a combination that makes for an album defined by subtle shifting rhythms.  

Opening with the breezy, melodically uplifting strum of “Screen Echoes,” Hanalei wastes no time launching into their core foundation of instantly addictive college rock.  It’s like being wrapped in a warm blanket of sonic nostalgia – so much so that listeners may find themselves zoning out the lyrics in favour of drifting into a murky semiconscious trance.  But those that lend their ear to the words are rewarded with cryptically engaging descriptions of being pulled between nature, technology and embracing self-discovery.  The lyrics aren’t overly singable or anthemic, but with the right amount of focus they evoke deep thoughts.  

In subsequent tracks, Black Snow sways between those with a heavier edge and others that hover and float.  The key ingredient as to which element dominates a given moment emerges as the combination of volume and distortion.  Guitars either fall into two camps – twinkly, jangly indie or a meatier altrock firmness.  Tracks like “Bristlecone Queen” tend to morph between the two, honing a lighter sense during the verse and a heavier disposition during the chorus.  “Regional Manager” and “This is Not the End” realize the melodic potential of full bodied guitars, “woah-oah” infused choruses and swelling repetition. The overall atmosphere and rhythm is very easy to fall into – not unlike that of Guster or Bob Mould.   Meanwhile, tracks like “Steep Ravine” slow things down to a crawl, dampening the atmosphere with a message of better days and past triumphs that have faded with the present.  “Now I sleep with absence” sings Moss, leaving little room for optimism amidst such vivid imagery.  “Sumatra’s Burning” follows in similar fashion with a sullen, slow-strummed acoustic underpinning, plodding along like a drifter under the heat of a scorching sun. 

Black Snow is a very consistent offering consisting of many layers well worth sifting through.  On the surface, Hanalei builds a subdued atmosphere that borders on depressing.  For those that stop here, Black Snow might feel unfulfilling.  But digging deeper and letting the album run its course reveals the subtle layers Hanalei has woven within and between the track listing.  Black Snow hits all the right notes but leads with careful contemplation rather than immediate charm.  Fans of folky 90’s alt rock with a contemporary indie flare will find a listen of Black Snow makes for a rewarding payoff.