Seahaven – Halo Of Hurt

If Torrance, California post-hardcore band Seahaven can be pegged as anything, it’s unpredictable.  The band first caught my attention nearly a decade ago with the aggressive, moody atmosphere of their Ghost EP.  But I lost that attention a short year later with the release of Winter Forever, which seemed to take a stark left turn in favour of poppier scenery.  Ten years later, the pendulum swings back in my favour with Seahaven’s third full length, Halo Of Hurt, dialing back the energy in favour of a grittier approach.

Halo Of Hurt finds Seahaven drawing inspiration from some of the most iconic post-punk bands of the past decade. Manchester Orchestra, Brand New, All Get Out and Citizen all come to mind at various intervals, laying a foundation that is both familiar and curiously original.  Halo Of Hurt is atmospheric in the best of ways, presenting emotional burden through soundscapes of plodding reverb and mumbled near-whispers.  Each layer unravels slowly and methodically, capitalizing on the cryptic atmosphere and vocals of frontman Kyle Soto.  Opener “Void” creeps in under what feels like a drifting sonic fog.  After a minute of minimalist ambience Soto finally pipes up, mumbling in disdain with a clean near-baritone.  His melancholy essence ushers in the methodical overlays of the next six-minutes. “Watch the world, watch your back, Feel the waves when they crash,” cautions Soto, finishing the track with the unsettling premonition to, “Watch the world swallow anything and everything that’s left, Anyone that you have ever loved.”  “Void” marks a powerful preface to an album that makes good on every hint of promise from here on out.

The album’s general pacing and atmosphere holds many parallels to Brand New’s Leaked Demos 2006 and Manchester Orchestra’s I’m Like A Virgin Losing A Child.  Vocals are drawn upon sparingly and each note resonates with intention.  For instance, “I Don’t Belong Here” feels reminiscent of the soft undulating plucking of Brand New’s “Luca,” while the latter half of “Harbor” channels the steady, conflicted rhythm of “Nobody Moves.”  Considering Brand New’s disheveled and disgraced status, it’s nice to feel the spirit of the genre so skillfully pronounced.  The likeness to Manchester Orchestra shines through on minimalist tracks like “Bait” and “Lose,” which channel rays of sporadic optimism in which Soto finds balance between bold and vulnerable.  As with any post-punk operation built upon cathartic release, Seahaven achieves their best results when perched high upon the crossroads of love and loss.

“Eraser” closes the album every bit as strong as “Void” opens it.  “Eraser” is a haunting invitation into the mind of a grieving protagonist, visited by shadowy spectors that shift and fade based on the evolving thoughts and shadows of a fragile psyche.  “Now you’re lying now in your mausoleum, Quietly tucked away, The bill is paid, the space is great, Respects get paid out daily,” Soto slowly utters against a doleful backdrop of lingering guitars and a sullen tempo.  The song, like much of the album, lends itself to headphones and a quiet room as the best way to contemplate the many heavy themes therein.

Seahaven have crafted something special with Halo Of Hurt.  The combination of ethereal atmosphere, plodding post-punk instrumentation and overarching sense of mortality makes Halo Of Hurt an unanticipated gem in Seahaven’s career. While I’ve always appreciated Seahaven for their willingness to evolve, my preferences haven’t always meshed with this direction.  But in the case of Halo Of Hurt, they align perfectly. Halo Of Hurt is a shining example of what post-punk can be – fans and newcomers alike owe it to themselves to tune in.