The sonic underground of new age shoegaze is often rendered through its promise of liminal spaces, where the idea of eternal youth concedes to the creation of an alternate plane of existence. In these spaces, ephemeral vocal hues translate into fading moments and the concept of time becomes less clear. But what happens when a group prefers to live intuitively through each and every present moment of such a liminal space? You get untitled (halo).
Prior to the formation of the group, the trio by way of LA knew each other only from their respective music communities in the area, through DJing parties and working the door at friends’ gigs. It wasn’t until November of 2022 that Jay and Ari came together to record their first demo. What began as an impromptu recording session between the two resulted in the initial take of their debut track “El Prado Freestyle.”
From that point on the group describes their alchemy as one that felt organic. “Right after that we worked on the beginning of ‘Oblique Butterfly’ and I think we both realized we had a real connection—and we both immediately knew we wanted to get our friend Jack involved, it made sense,” Ari says.
“We aren’t very conventional. We aren’t classically trained either,” she continues. “Everything stems from us just being invested and interested in art. We’ve embraced creating songs that have weird structures, or are just loops, or are these cathartic jams. We aren’t following any guidelines, so I think that allows everything we do with untitled (halo) to feel really authentic to who we are as individuals”
Seven months after their debut single, the trio released their first EP Towncryer, a brief yet textural project shrouded in the fragility of young adulthood. Inspired by a variety of sounds and styles, the six-track project is an ambient nod towards ethereal grunge, where spiraling guitars swirl around dissolving bass lines and whispers of vocals float just above the distorted synths, like mere anecdotes to themes of overwhelming emotions and growing pains.
“I think we’re all fascinated by love, isolation, lonerism, existentialism, so a lot of songs find truth in these themes,” Ari explains. Augmented by each other’s strengths, the group is most enthralling when tapping into their mutual yet individually experienced emotions. “When we make songs we let someone create their own lyrics and say what they want, and it often becomes something we all feel.” For untitled (halo), it’s not about creating alternate planes or experimental bouts of the unknown, but archiving emotional experiences that become universal through an intentional transparency.
“Everything is so fleeting—but it’s time-stamped through whatever feeling you felt at the time, when you created or responded to something that moved you. To capture these moments is to acknowledge the ephemeral and screenshot it in our own way to make sense of the remembrance without having the memory haunt you forever. I listen to our own music in a way I’m already nostalgic about,” Jay says.
The band’s seemingly effortless ability to capture a world that feels familiar while eerily foreign to its listeners is part of the reason for their instant notoriety. Now coming off of their debut EP, the trio isn’t forcing anything—they’re going to keep creating with their friends and appreciating anyone who connects with the songs. “I had a friend say ‘Oblique Butterfly’ was the deepest she cried to a song in years” Ari adds. “I think that’s the point of us making music in a lot of ways, for ourselves and for others.”—Sundhya Alter
