Laurel Halo
Quarantine

After a series of EPs in which she managed to demonstrate her remarkable compositional ability, Laurel Halo finally arrives at her full-length debut. The first thing that strikes is the bloody cover taken directly from Harakiri School Girl by Aida Makoto: a triumph of Harakiri that preludes to the strong images on the back. With these premises, one should not expect an album that assaults the listener right from the start. On the contrary, this is a work without a supporting skeleton, an invertebrate being that seems to prefer resting on drones and cascades of synthesizers. And then the voice. The use of it here highlights a sophisticated work of vocal intertwining that Halo had never before managed to architect. The absence of a true foundational structure throughout all twelve tracks brings with it all the pros and cons of the case: one is pleasantly traversed by the underwater sounds staged, yet at the same time, there is a certain sense of disorientation that finds no convincing solution in any of the tracks.

It begins with "Airsick": already here we find a summary of what has been said. The rhythmic base seems like an accompanying element rather than a true backbone, the synthesizers hold prolonged chords, the voices seem to float on the sound carpet. In the next track ("Years") the structure is further deconstructed. The individual instruments seem to go each their own way, and only a strange alchemy seems to bind them to bring the piece being listened to life. This line supports the following tracks until reaching what, according to the author, is the album's peak: "MK Ultra". In this track, everything that has been heard appears as a grand rehearsal to develop this jewel of rare beauty. The spirals of synths and the rhythmic bases, on the brink of suffocation, welcome a chant that at times sounds like a mournful lullaby. Everything makes sense. By this point, the best has been said, and the tracks that follow struggle to carry forward the discourse laid out in the first half (despite some excellent moments). The ending is entrusted to "Light + Space", which in its tail, envelops itself in vocal harmonies calming down on ambient keyboards. Another moment that definitely plays in favor of this record.  

In general, this work remains well above average but, even with repeated listens, fails to convince as expected. Three stars yearning for four.