There is just something about music that lets our hearts sing and our souls be understood. It can lift our spirits, bring us down to earth, or grant us the courage to cry out in our distress. Music has been an instrument of expression, of worship, and so much more. Perhaps, it has even given you life during times you thought you were close to death.
One band comes to mind when I think about the constant battle between life’s joys, its mundanity, and the subsequent brokenness that comes after. Half Alive. What comes to mind when you hear that name? Ignoring the similarities between that and Valve’s first-person shooter franchise, does it spur any kind of emotional response? Their name’s origin emanates from the tension between good and evil—the pull between the spirit and the flesh.
We’ve all struggled with it. It’s the voices or opposing ideas in our heads that we often go to war with. And it’s exactly what Half Alive addresses in their music. Contradictions. Hope and despair. Life and death. Because we live in a reality where that kind of duality exists.
Persona (2024) begins with a short track of a ghostly symphony fading into play, but strangely also sounding like a computer booting up. As the two sounds mix, the dissonance created reminded me of the horrors in Don’t Hug Me I’m Scared (don’t click on the link unless you’re prepared to be traumatised). There’s a kind of dysfunction that’s portrayed in that dissonance, which disappears as ‘Sophie’s House’ continues the musical narrative with a British Indie Pop vibe I much liken to Two Door Cinema Club’s Tourist History (2010), the nostalgic sound of my teenage years. While I don’t miss high school in the least, I fondly look back at the music of that time.
Something I really appreciate is when artists provide a sense of continuity in their albums. It demonstrates how creatively they can develop a narrative and then how well they execute the creative direction of their craft. ‘Automatic’ gave me goosebumps. And it’s the song I’m most excited to hear live when the band visits in June.
The groaning of the bass conveys this mechanical feel, true to the title of this song. Yet, the drums feel so human. Half Alive did a great job of articulating the idea of living on autopilot, and turning to “the static” when life gets hard. Their lyrics are relatable but can often get lost in the rhythms of their song. And I wouldn’t be surprised if that was intentional since it would ironically reinforce the kind of mindlessness that comes with an “automatic” life.
Another thing Persona does incredibly well is the pacing of songs. It’s as if the entire album’s structure was made for the express purpose of being played live. Concerts aren’t sustainable if every song was upbeat like a summer anthem or solemn like a reflective ballad. They ought to take you on a journey, varying in dynamics and tempo. As the third song comes to an end, it’s as if a new act starts in the album.
There is almost a dreamlike quality to ‘People’. The absence of drums in the intro provides space for an airy feel before they drop into the song, still maintaining its wistful aura. The synths remain strong and assert a full sound—much like the heaviness found in the busyness of life. And the vocals cleverly add to the sense of longing they depict in the vocalist’s elongation of specific words.
Listeners are then greeted with a prickly contrast in ‘Bleed It Out’, a hopeful tune with a bright but synthetic trumpet-like sound. The synth bass drum beat is very methodical and… somewhat staccato? Perhaps it’s more accurate to say both the attack and release of the sound are extremely short, making for a bouncy synth sound. As we transition into the chorus, they retain a triumphant feeling with more excitement in the added layers, resulting in a fuller sound. It’s frantic. Could the chorus be a plea for change and vulnerability before it’s too late?
After riding the high of the shiny and exciting rhythms, listeners take a deep plunge in ‘Long Drive’. There is a heavy contrast to the previous song in its sound and lyrical message. The intro paints a picture of wading through water in its fluid synth and piano reverberating out into the distance. The difference is so reminiscent of the human condition—how our feelings influence how we respond, what we chase after next. And ultimately, how fickle we are. The first chorus is sung in a whisper, and the softness continues into the second verse, reflecting on what the “good life” looks like, while the bass grounds the lyrics and makes it more impactful.
‘Lie, Lie’ continues with the intent of reflecting. Much like the previous song, there’s space to wonder as it begins with an acoustic guitar and vocals. Layers are then added to the chorus, distinguishing it from the verses. The BPM increases once more, leading to an urgency to hide signs of losing control, while the busyness of the track serves as a distraction from said feelings. The lyrics also add to it, explicitly telling listeners through repetition in “you lie, you lie, you lie”, and doubt in “swear that you’re not hiding your heart”. It’s like chasing after a high while running away from reality.
As we move forward in the story, ‘All My Love (Imperative)’ builds upon the idea of being swept away by the noise of everyday life, “falling too deep in the narrative,” and how that “[builds] on a false pretense of worth”. It also ties back to ‘Bleed It Out’ with its imagery of the bleeding heart and opening up to another. While the sound stays true to the espoused British Indie Pop vibes, the tone is slightly different from the rest of the album. It’s calls a lot of Christians who use their works to define how successful or worthy they are. But the chorus is a direct challenge to that—it’s a song written from God’s perspective, telling us to let Him in.
We were presented with a clear message. However, in the next song we’re almost startled with a grungy sound I can only describe as grey. Next, the drums come in at a quick tempo, creating an image of hurry… as if workers were rushing to their jobs in a dull city. ‘The Point’ almost seems like humanity’s response to the previous track when God called us to come (or return). The lyrics depict competing thoughts in the persistence of “[Going] on forever, ever-trying to be/Something way better”, and “What’s the point?” Just as the song begins with a steady BPM set by the drums, it continues throughout, and the instrumental break illustrates this clear image of running the good race.
The next two songs almost feel like a bonus track, or side story. ‘Songs’ has a slower tempo and reveals an innocent desire to spend time with a loved one after “coming over the hill of a lapse in clarity”. The vocals are soft like a whisper, particularly during the chorus, and the acoustic guitar provides this touch of vulnerability. It’s as if the song was being sung to one person privately and intimately. The story is introspective—it touches upon regret and wanting to make up for lost time. In many ways this track hits a sore spot of mine, but I loved the sentiment.
And I loved it even more as the sentiment continued in ‘Thank You’. Past the themes of busyness, struggle for control, and other temptations, the final track is a fitting end to the saga. There’s a peace portrayed in the reflection of life’s trials, and a genuine thankfulness for it. The hurry has gone and has been replaced by a renewed sense of purpose. A peace beyond all understanding.
Persona was a wonderful surprise and it provided a pleasant listening experience. Half Alive has strong creative direction and skillfully tells a story while seemingly capturing an essence of my life with a lens of peculiar nostalgia. While lyrically simple, it is rich with meaning that everyone can understand. And it’s not every day an album is thematically cohesive enough to lead you through the narrative and immerse you.
I loved the album’s lively rhythms and profound lyrical prose, the pacing of the story through their clever use of varied tempos, and the polarities between the party-like ambience with the heavy lyrics. Half Alive expertly makes that distinction compatible, and it creates a wistfulness or melancholy some people aren’t ready to encounter. But they give listeners that choice to enjoy the album in its fullness, or to merely enjoy the music without giving the lyrics much thought.
Wherever you find yourself in life, I’d encourage you to give Persona a listen. At the very least, I hope it grants you some joy. And maybe it will even change your life just a little.
水 