Halcion Halo
Tacoma, Washington, United States
Music
Press
"Personally, I think you have to love any band that cites as its three major influences "rock & roll, scotch whiskey, and donuts with names like prostitutes." That last part is a lyric from the Tom Waits piece "9th and Hennepin," and the music of local outfit Halcion Halo frequently bears the mark of that skewed troubadour in its clattering, stumble-drunk percussion, carnival-of-the-doomed melodies, and the sporadic odd mumbles and grunts of its vocalist. More often, though, the singing is a croon indebted to both Jim Morrison and Robert Smith (a combination that may be hard to imagine, but once you hear it you'll know what I mean); and most scraps of ramshackle, junkyard blues are eventually hammered by overdriven garage-rock and trash-metal stomp. If all goes well tonight, these guys just might whittle you into kindling. With Ladies of the Night." MICHAEL ALAN GOLDBERG - Seattle Weekly
Discography
Halcion Halo - "Flames" LP (2010)
Photos
Bio
Halcion Halo is the music that emerges from Jenson Charnell's reservoir of judgment calls. In the first album "Flames," the scent of forlorn is not far off within the towering walls of saturated distorted bass and pounding dry slow aged drums. The music wraps its bearing arms around stories of love, lust, psychotic dreams, hunger, golden lattice, and the occasional tequila shot under a full moon. From out of the gate this bull hurls it self with horns thrusting from side to side; the rider grips hold of the helm but the beast is in control only momentarily slowing to flash a fang swollen grin to the sky. Photo albums and boxes full of memories spill out amongst the down-tuned guitars and stomp garage metal rhythms in fantastic bulldozer to the family farm house tradition. “Flames” shifts the tides and turns the winds as it jumps from one caving rooftop of fire to another.
Whether solo, or in full tuxedo suit of a band, the percussive nature in the guitar work and the howl of the words wind a carousel of tremors through the unsuspecting onlookers. Up to the hilt of songs like “The Door” and “Never Stop,” an ocean of painted words are strung together to build a horizon of the likes that some people have spent lifetimes reflecting on. The skin swollen around a ring strangling the thumb, sweat dripping from the quickly aged brow, a tambourine under the foot ready to stomp and a glare of club lights in his eyes; Mr. Charnell finds himself under the extreme scrutiny of his peers as he sets fire to combustible Halcion Halo. Not falling into any one easily determined genre, not fallowing the crowd, not carrying a laser light show, not sounding content to play the hits of the past; the music will step onto every stage as an outsider and leave as your best new friend.
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