One of the more interesting things about Half Moon Run’s 2012 debut album, Dark Eyes, was the fact that the band admitted to not really being friends: they communicated well musically, but didn’t particularly value each other’s company. As anyone who’s studied rock history knows, nothing helps build a strong friendship like two years of solid touring, and so the Montreal quartet approached this follow-up in full burnout mode: fraying relationships, fatigue and homesickness (“a little bit like being underwater,” is how the band’s Dylan Phillips put it). You can’t always sense it musically – this is more well-crafted indie-rock somewhere between My Morning Jacket’s shimmering alt-Americana (Narrow Margins, Everybody Wants) and Coldplay’s melodic bombast al a Mumfords (Turn Your Love). There are tight harmonies, deft rhythms and gentle instrumental flourishes, this is a more intriguing proposition than its retro exterior initially suggests, but the problem with relying on subtleties is that it can dissolve into blandness. Half Moon Run would have a stronger identity if they let their grievances truly enter their music.
