SPUN: The Black Halos

By Jordyn Marcellus

Don’t listen to the kids with the mohawks. Punk is totally dead. For bands like the Black Halos, the best way to deal with this grim reality is to rock out even harder to show that the genre hasn’t quite kicked the bucket yet. Thing is, if We Are Not Alone is any indication, not even a meth enema is going to start punk’s heart back up.

The Halos, who have been making music in their native Vancouver since 1993, have finally indulged their love of guy-liner and glamorized themselves even further than before. Musically, this means a more glitzy and overproduced quality to their sonic assault. It’s an evolution, one that isn’t surprising if careful attention is spent on their back catalogue. It’s an album for the fans. You can see lead singer Billy Hopeless explaining it to some music journalist: “It’s not for you, man, it’s for our fans.”

There’s nothing to particular to hate about the album. The songs blend together with the perfect mix of inoffensive punk rock rebellion on each track and Hopeless’ part-snarling, otherwise crooning vocals are competent. Lyrically, it’s nothing new or exciting. We Are Not Alone is an inoffensive punk album. It doesn’t aspire to be anything else and, if you lower your expectations enough, you’ll get your money’s worth.