A memorable rock album that succeeds in both anthemic soaring and emotive introspection, Disquiet is the latest from Brian Halloran. The release has been nearly a decade in the making, resulting in several mixes. Collaborating with sound mixer and engineer Ricky Watts brought the album to its fruition, spanning across ten memorable tracks. Halloran’s music has made a strong impression in recent years, strutting both melodic indie pop and eclectic rock prowess on albums The Cocktail Hour and Overnumerousness, in addition to last year’s Four Orphans EP. Disquiet continues his penchant for riveting, hooky songwriting with heartfelt authenticity.
Opening the album, “Straw Man” compels with a moving rock production, set within lyrics that speak to futile ambition and the role of effort within something that culminates in defeat. “I’ll be a straw man running into a burning building,” his vocals let out amidst pulsing guitar distortion, then traversing into an invigorating guitar solo and “it’s all right,” reassurances, as if trying to drown resignation in defiant sound. The ensuing “Emergency Room” injects a playful synth-forward energy from the get-go, building between that and “you’re on your own,” moody rock moroseness. The first two tracks enthrall with their powerful rock appeal and sense of foreboding, whether in the form of the opener’s fire ablaze, or how “Emergency Room” tactfully equates internal conflict to warfare defenses.
Another standout, “Sleepwalkers” melds arp-y synth buzzing and crisp guitar work within memorable lyrical insight — critiquing passive complicity during sociopolitical collapse. The condemnation of silence, comfort, and apathy in the face of global suffering and systemic failure is resonating. “How can you sleep at a time like this?” the vocals open, later equating non-participants to sleepwalkers. Album finale “The Ramparts” is another socially conscious success, fondly reminiscent of peak U2 in its climactic production, while also showing shades of The Who in the burgeoning guitar tones. Explorations of modern society infuse alongside, lamenting the collapse of ideals and human connection amidst social decay.
Developing from lusher electronic ruminations into a roaring rock ardency, “Another Room” consumes in its general ascent and thematic focus. The track, which was written after Robin Williams’ tragic suicide, conveys grief for someone deeply admired yet personally unknown. “I know you don’t know me, but you were always right there,” Halloran’s vocals emanate, asking “are you somewhere far away?” with starry-eyed wonder. Confusion, sorrow, and love are delivered eloquently — also continuing central themes throughout the album like lack of closure and grief. Disquiet consistently enamors with its high-quality, from-the-heart songwriting.
Disquiet is out on May 13th.
