Halasan Bazar
Burns

Fortunately, there are still those who manage to write good pop music without any need to be in some way 'mainstream' and seek consensus at all costs, and consequently without falling into the usual clichés of 'indie' music. These clichés, having established themselves according to principles and canons (both ethical and musical) in the eighties and nineties, have today largely become a matter of aesthetics, which in every way mirrors the typical patterns of big record productions, leading to a real coincidence between the two.

In this sense, an album like this is something I always welcome with particular pleasure and genuine joy in my soul because, although not dealing with what might be considered my ideal reference sounds (oh my, I'm certainly not insensitive to what, as we'll see, is a certain fascination for the psychedelia of the sixties and even those that are references to soul music), I am equally convinced that it is precisely albums of this 'simplicity' that signify a certain vitality in the contemporary musical world, particularly concerning the new generations.

I also say this because I have just finished reading an article about the music of the '90s, where that particular decade was defined as a golden era for music and an incredible reservoir to draw from even today, especially regarding new generations and the youngest ones. To whom I want to say clearly not to listen to this bullshit.

Ten-fifteen years ago, they were telling us the same thing about the music of the late seventies and early eighties. New-wave was the main reference basin that all the bands at the top of the wave declared as their inspiration. And they truly did, and if we want to, they did it pretty well too. But what was the point of all this? I mean. In this case, we aren't talking about a revival nor a rediscovery. Simply those pulling the strings from above elected, in their ideological and cultural immobility, the music of their generation as the best. The same happens today with the music of the nineties and will always be the same whenever there is a generational jump, which, however, will never concern you but always those older than you who will pretend each time to teach you what is right and wrong. And you will do well every time to not care because, incidentally, you have nothing to envy from anyone.

Halasan Bazar is the musical project of Norwegian Frederick Rollum Echo, but the story of this group begins in Copenhagen, Denmark, and then develops particularly in France from 2014, where the band achieves main success and important feedback. In person, Frederick begins to collaborate actively with Tara King Th, a French band from the Rhône region led by Ray Borneo, sharing the same artistic sensibility as the Copenhagen group.

No surprise, then, if this album, the band's third, titled 'Burns,' was recorded precisely on French territory at La Gargouille in Chambon-sur-Lignon in Haute Lorraine, one of the symbolic places of the French resistance, and with the supervision and collaboration of Arnaud Boyer (an active member of Tara King Th).

Released via Requiem For A Twister last month (on May 26), the album perhaps represents the quartet's highest point led by Frederick Rollum Echo, where the band perfectly fulfills its work of revisiting, reinterpreting, and updating psychedelic folk-pop sounds of the sixties, drawing from a vast legacy ranging from the Kinks and the Monkees to the Beach Boys and the Californian West Coast sound ('Fools', 'Freak') up to the American tradition of Buffalo Springfield and Byrds ('Honest People', 'Get Sick And Die'), distinguishing themselves at the same time for brilliance and sensitive intelligence in compositions and arrangements.

Some songs, however, seem to parody a typically French genre like yé-yé. I think, for example, of the pop-rock ballad 'Burns My Mind' or the same 'Get Sick And Die' and the soul-oriented 'Under The Water,' the Gregorian 'Coming Down'; 'Stretching Out' is a compromise between what can be a vision of romanticism according to the Kinks and the Californian visions of the Beach Boys; a certain style found in the typically British ballad 'Junky,' 'The Comedown' and the Beatlesque 'Lucky You' with a decidedly vintage but at the same time perfectly successful and convincing string arrangement.

What can I say? The feeling, at the end of listening to this, besides the temptation to immediately play it from start to finish, is that I really can't understand how this work might somehow 'clash' or be ugly or in some way insufficient for someone. This doesn't mean we are facing a masterpiece nor that this record is destined to go down in history or that you will necessarily include it in your 'top ten' at the end of 2017. But there's no doubt that maybe during these summer days, you might end up discovering that this is the most suitable album to be the soundtrack of this particular moment. If you succeed, maybe fall in love and live this period in the most joyful way possible: everything might then sound even more beautiful, and some of these could become YOUR song.