Incomplete to-do lists and cobweb-dusted abandoned projects can haunt many of us into complacency, but Half Moon Run find it inspiring to work inside a museum of their own unfinished business.
"We have an exhaustive list of every unfinished song on a double-wide whiteboard in our rehearsal space. A certain section of that board is colloquially referred to as 'The Graveyard,'" the band tells Exclaim! "Some of those songs have been there for over 10 years, unable or unwilling to be completed. Every once in a while, one of us elects to exhume an old song fragment from this graveyard and see what gives."
With their new lineup and help from producer Conner Seidel, they were able to breathe life into several of these castaways for their striking new album, Salt. Like mosaic tiles discovered and polished to reveal new patterns over the past decade, the record encapsulates every sonic and emotional landscape the band have explored, with postcard snapshots of the places their career has brought them since forming in Montreal's Mile End in 2009.
Furthermore, Salt sees Half Moon Run's Conner Molander, Dylan Phillips and Devon Portielje use this palimpsest of old material — sometimes altered beyond recognition from where it originated — to push themselves into previously uncharted territory, scaling their monumental walls of sound to new heights of resplendence, as well as delicate moments of restraint and fun-loving playfulness.
When we asked them to rank the five best songs in their catalogue to commemorate the North American leg of their world tour, you can trust that the timestamps from their selections go deeper than the year of each track's release, defying both linear time and common musical time signatures in equal measure. They also note that, like the fluidity of a shapeshifting melodic fragment, they're subject to change on any given day.
5. "Monster"
Seasons of Change (2020)
Devon Portielje: When I hear this, I am transported to another time: 2014 in Oceanside, CA, where we rented this large dome-shaped structure to write and enjoy the sunshine. We surfed every morning and wrote in the afternoon and into the evening. I was obsessed with this ZVEX Lo-Fi Junky guitar pedal and I wanted to put every instrument through it to create this thick closeness in the tones. When I hear those tones, I'm filled with nostalgia and its requisite wistfulness, but also a smiling gratitude for those times.
4. "Nosebleeds"
Inwards & Onwards (2021)
Devon Portielje: We recorded this at our rehearsal space in the thick of the pandemic. As for many around the world, this was a very strange time for us. It was a very isolating feeling. And the song, too, also written and developed at the dome mentioned above, reminds me of and refers directly to the interpersonal challenges that we faced within the band. Furthermore, the audio that you can hear in the intro and throughout is the sound of a lake thawing in spring. I'd been somewhat stranded at a cabin when the lockdown came into effect, and discovered the awe-inspiring sounds of a lake's first steps of transition into the spring season. Unfortunately, the ending of that chapter of my life was a highly acrimonious affair. When I hear "Nosebleeds," I'm reminded of that wonderful moment by the lake and the good times at the dome, both imbued with some sort of beautiful sadness.
3. "9beat"
Salt (2023)
Dylan Phillips: This song is probably one of the most satisfying things to ever complete and record. It had been through so many different arrangements and been attempted on countless different occasions, but never made it to a record until its release on Salt. It began with the tom-click pattern when, one day in the jam space, Devon was riffing with some sticks. I was perplexed by what he was doing and eventually figured out that he was repeating a pattern in nine, and not only that, but his pattern was a fractal of nine subdivisions: it could be counted in nine by sixteenths, nine by eighths, or nine by quarters. I was blown away by this, and we started building other rhythms, melodies and arrangement ideas around it.
We always loved the rhythm, but it took us quite a while to build an actual song around it. It was so hard to figure out that it became a bit of a joke for us when someone would say, "Should we work on '9beat'?" when questioning where to put our attention. I'm not sure any of us really believed we'd ever figure it out. So to finally get this one over the finish line and have it be such an ethereal and emotional staple of our repertoire is nothing short of miraculous.
2. "Hotel in Memphis"
Salt (2023)
Dylan Phillips: I find the story of this song fascinating. To me it's a clear example of how some things just simply cannot be predicted or conceived, but rather need to be explored and shaped moment by moment. And for this song, it's true of not just the music, but of the educational journey in the early days of working with labels and managers for the first time.
This song began as a solo piano piece that I wrote, and our A&R guy at the time saw enormous potential for it to be a powerful song with the whole band. We tried multiple different ideas that we didn't really like and gave it a fair shot. Ultimately, it just wasn't good enough for us. However, in our first month-long recording attempt of our first LP, Dark Eyes, we thought we were nearing completion, when our producer at the time sat us down at the table and told us there was something serious we needed to talk about. I can't remember the exact words, but the sentiment was, "Guys, you simply have to record this. It's your job and you must do it." We could just feel the tentacles of our label passing through secret communications to our producer, imploring him to make us record it. Me, Dev, and Conner just couldn't believe it. We walked out into the woods, picked up the phone, and called our label. We said, "If you make us do it, we will walk away from this band, never to be Half Moon Run ever again." They instantly backed down and said something to the tune of, "Okay, okay, no worries, no need to be dramatic, all is good."
Over the years after that, however, we never gave up on the idea of this song. It simply wasn't ready at the time. The song has changed so much since then that there are almost no recognizable pieces from the original ideas — the title, the chords, the lyrics, the beat, the arrangement. I think, in a way, this song is a reminder of how important it is to listen to your instincts, and let your convictions guide you even in the face of terminal consequences, both musically and professionally.
1. "Call Me in the Afternoon"
Dark Eyes (2012)
Conner Molander: A bit odd of me perhaps to go all the way to our first record for this selection, but there's something magical about this song that I want to try and explore for a minute. It's one of our most collaborative songs in a writing sense — the vision for it didn't come from anyone in particular; it just kinda bounced out, a combination of spontaneous element.
The opening riff was originally played by Dylan on a keyboard. I transposed it, played it on a guitar, and suggested we try a clicking pattern on the drums. Devon came up with the super catchy chorus line, seemingly out of nowhere. Dylan added the terrific piano in the B section, which made the whole song take off. I went home and finished the lyrics. I was just 20 at the time, and I was imagining an encounter with some shady person in a marketplace.
In the end, none of us really felt like we had any ownership over the song, somehow. It became one of our most popular songs, and is still a mainstay during our live performances. I'm grateful for this song — it's a gift!
"We have an exhaustive list of every unfinished song on a double-wide whiteboard in our rehearsal space. A certain section of that board is colloquially referred to as 'The Graveyard,'" the band tells Exclaim! "Some of those songs have been there for over 10 years, unable or unwilling to be completed. Every once in a while, one of us elects to exhume an old song fragment from this graveyard and see what gives."
With their new lineup and help from producer Conner Seidel, they were able to breathe life into several of these castaways for their striking new album, Salt. Like mosaic tiles discovered and polished to reveal new patterns over the past decade, the record encapsulates every sonic and emotional landscape the band have explored, with postcard snapshots of the places their career has brought them since forming in Montreal's Mile End in 2009.
Furthermore, Salt sees Half Moon Run's Conner Molander, Dylan Phillips and Devon Portielje use this palimpsest of old material — sometimes altered beyond recognition from where it originated — to push themselves into previously uncharted territory, scaling their monumental walls of sound to new heights of resplendence, as well as delicate moments of restraint and fun-loving playfulness.
When we asked them to rank the five best songs in their catalogue to commemorate the North American leg of their world tour, you can trust that the timestamps from their selections go deeper than the year of each track's release, defying both linear time and common musical time signatures in equal measure. They also note that, like the fluidity of a shapeshifting melodic fragment, they're subject to change on any given day.
5. "Monster"
Seasons of Change (2020)
Devon Portielje: When I hear this, I am transported to another time: 2014 in Oceanside, CA, where we rented this large dome-shaped structure to write and enjoy the sunshine. We surfed every morning and wrote in the afternoon and into the evening. I was obsessed with this ZVEX Lo-Fi Junky guitar pedal and I wanted to put every instrument through it to create this thick closeness in the tones. When I hear those tones, I'm filled with nostalgia and its requisite wistfulness, but also a smiling gratitude for those times.
4. "Nosebleeds"
Inwards & Onwards (2021)
Devon Portielje: We recorded this at our rehearsal space in the thick of the pandemic. As for many around the world, this was a very strange time for us. It was a very isolating feeling. And the song, too, also written and developed at the dome mentioned above, reminds me of and refers directly to the interpersonal challenges that we faced within the band. Furthermore, the audio that you can hear in the intro and throughout is the sound of a lake thawing in spring. I'd been somewhat stranded at a cabin when the lockdown came into effect, and discovered the awe-inspiring sounds of a lake's first steps of transition into the spring season. Unfortunately, the ending of that chapter of my life was a highly acrimonious affair. When I hear "Nosebleeds," I'm reminded of that wonderful moment by the lake and the good times at the dome, both imbued with some sort of beautiful sadness.
3. "9beat"
Salt (2023)
Dylan Phillips: This song is probably one of the most satisfying things to ever complete and record. It had been through so many different arrangements and been attempted on countless different occasions, but never made it to a record until its release on Salt. It began with the tom-click pattern when, one day in the jam space, Devon was riffing with some sticks. I was perplexed by what he was doing and eventually figured out that he was repeating a pattern in nine, and not only that, but his pattern was a fractal of nine subdivisions: it could be counted in nine by sixteenths, nine by eighths, or nine by quarters. I was blown away by this, and we started building other rhythms, melodies and arrangement ideas around it.
We always loved the rhythm, but it took us quite a while to build an actual song around it. It was so hard to figure out that it became a bit of a joke for us when someone would say, "Should we work on '9beat'?" when questioning where to put our attention. I'm not sure any of us really believed we'd ever figure it out. So to finally get this one over the finish line and have it be such an ethereal and emotional staple of our repertoire is nothing short of miraculous.
2. "Hotel in Memphis"
Salt (2023)
Dylan Phillips: I find the story of this song fascinating. To me it's a clear example of how some things just simply cannot be predicted or conceived, but rather need to be explored and shaped moment by moment. And for this song, it's true of not just the music, but of the educational journey in the early days of working with labels and managers for the first time.
This song began as a solo piano piece that I wrote, and our A&R guy at the time saw enormous potential for it to be a powerful song with the whole band. We tried multiple different ideas that we didn't really like and gave it a fair shot. Ultimately, it just wasn't good enough for us. However, in our first month-long recording attempt of our first LP, Dark Eyes, we thought we were nearing completion, when our producer at the time sat us down at the table and told us there was something serious we needed to talk about. I can't remember the exact words, but the sentiment was, "Guys, you simply have to record this. It's your job and you must do it." We could just feel the tentacles of our label passing through secret communications to our producer, imploring him to make us record it. Me, Dev, and Conner just couldn't believe it. We walked out into the woods, picked up the phone, and called our label. We said, "If you make us do it, we will walk away from this band, never to be Half Moon Run ever again." They instantly backed down and said something to the tune of, "Okay, okay, no worries, no need to be dramatic, all is good."
Over the years after that, however, we never gave up on the idea of this song. It simply wasn't ready at the time. The song has changed so much since then that there are almost no recognizable pieces from the original ideas — the title, the chords, the lyrics, the beat, the arrangement. I think, in a way, this song is a reminder of how important it is to listen to your instincts, and let your convictions guide you even in the face of terminal consequences, both musically and professionally.
1. "Call Me in the Afternoon"
Dark Eyes (2012)
Conner Molander: A bit odd of me perhaps to go all the way to our first record for this selection, but there's something magical about this song that I want to try and explore for a minute. It's one of our most collaborative songs in a writing sense — the vision for it didn't come from anyone in particular; it just kinda bounced out, a combination of spontaneous element.
The opening riff was originally played by Dylan on a keyboard. I transposed it, played it on a guitar, and suggested we try a clicking pattern on the drums. Devon came up with the super catchy chorus line, seemingly out of nowhere. Dylan added the terrific piano in the B section, which made the whole song take off. I went home and finished the lyrics. I was just 20 at the time, and I was imagining an encounter with some shady person in a marketplace.
In the end, none of us really felt like we had any ownership over the song, somehow. It became one of our most popular songs, and is still a mainstay during our live performances. I'm grateful for this song — it's a gift!