"she says she's growing up fast"
The bouncy indie rock track Somehow by Hala, the musical project of 22 year old singer-songwriter Ian Ruhala has an infectious post punk indie sway and sweet endearing edginess. Upon the first listen I thought of The Babies (and, equally, Kevin Morby) and while, Ruhala, here, might feel slightly more pop-esque, there is some similarities among the many differences. The Detroit native definitely has a knack for melodies that don't sound indie tropey and that is a great thing.
About Somehow, Ruhala offers:
['Somehow' was the first song written for this record. It was written in its most primitive state in my dorm room, during my college days in mid-Michigan. 'Somehow' took shape out of some of the financial troubles I was having as a young person transitioning into adulthood. In my naive mind, I thought that nobody was going to want to be in a relationship with me if I was broke. By this point I had already made my decision to drop out of school, so I was feeling quite pessimistic about my love life and my future."]
-Robb Donker Curtius
THE FACTS AS WE KNOW THEM - PRESS NOTES:
www.facebook.com/halaband/
twitter.com/thebandhala
halaband.bandcamp.com/
www.instagram.com/thebandhala
open.spotify.com/artist/1dTBAtLZBUB8Ir4PmJYw9t
music.apple.com/us/artist/hala/394317077
www.youtube.com/channel/UC9FjxfnqRzn9J2qteQ-O0Wg
Recording under the moniker Hala, 22 year old Ian Ruhala writes songs that feel fresh, bright, but insightful, out of his home in Detroit, Michigan. It is the kind of music that one would expect to hear at the beginning of a movie or short film, alongside opening credits. With a prolific output, Hala stresses the importance of the songwriting and production process, as much as the final product.
Take his 2016 debut, Spoonfed, which is perhaps Hala’s best-known collection of songs. “I was in a pretty rough, and eclectic state of mind, when I was writing and recording the album,” Ruhala remembers. “I felt like the entire world was fighting against me, and my only weapon of defense was my voice, and my guitar.”
Recorded in the attic of a century old home in Midtown Detroit, with limited studio equipment, songs like “Club Soda,” “Phone Calls,” and, “Not Your Modern Man,” chronicle Ruhala’s experiences of living in a musical commune, and crossing the threshold of adulthood. These songs document in a rather poignant way, a sense of uncomfortability, and naiveté, that almost simultaneously accompanied these transitions in the young writer’s life.
The stand-out from the record, “What Is Love? Tell Me, Is It Easy?,” has gathered praise for having this sensibility. Lyrically, Hala says the song is rather rhetorical, but since it’s release it has become a soundtrack for the optimistic but always hopeless romantics of indie rock consumption.
Hala’s latest numbers, seem like reasonable stepping stones. On “Love Grows,” the guitars waver hot above a low, dusty drumbeat, as a restless bassline shrugs beneath shuffling chords, and a vocal that croons like that of Bob Dylan.
A most recent single, 2018’s, “Sorry,” shows Hala at perhaps his most realized—sunny and fun, with lyrics as mischievous as the guitar’s leads; the track is energetic, restless and all encompassing.
Take his 2016 debut, Spoonfed, which is perhaps Hala’s best-known collection of songs. “I was in a pretty rough, and eclectic state of mind, when I was writing and recording the album,” Ruhala remembers. “I felt like the entire world was fighting against me, and my only weapon of defense was my voice, and my guitar.”
Recorded in the attic of a century old home in Midtown Detroit, with limited studio equipment, songs like “Club Soda,” “Phone Calls,” and, “Not Your Modern Man,” chronicle Ruhala’s experiences of living in a musical commune, and crossing the threshold of adulthood. These songs document in a rather poignant way, a sense of uncomfortability, and naiveté, that almost simultaneously accompanied these transitions in the young writer’s life.
The stand-out from the record, “What Is Love? Tell Me, Is It Easy?,” has gathered praise for having this sensibility. Lyrically, Hala says the song is rather rhetorical, but since it’s release it has become a soundtrack for the optimistic but always hopeless romantics of indie rock consumption.
Hala’s latest numbers, seem like reasonable stepping stones. On “Love Grows,” the guitars waver hot above a low, dusty drumbeat, as a restless bassline shrugs beneath shuffling chords, and a vocal that croons like that of Bob Dylan.
A most recent single, 2018’s, “Sorry,” shows Hala at perhaps his most realized—sunny and fun, with lyrics as mischievous as the guitar’s leads; the track is energetic, restless and all encompassing.
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