There are a handful of voices that you can always remember where you were the first time you heard them, especially in person. It was in the most unlikely of venues, complete with a door that kept swinging open to allow noise to drown out what we were all trying to listen to, when that husky, deep-spirited voice of singer/songwriter, Canyon came careening down the mountain of sound to permanently imprint itself upon that part of the brain which enjoys music the most. And after her long-awaited debut album was finally unleashed, after what has seemed like a hundred enjoyable listens, it remains that this voice and the songs that it sings are still leaving tiny spiritual imprints.
Half is the type of album that even after a myriad of listens doesn’t lose a single ounce of excitement or energy. From the first sensual notes of album opener, “One Way Road” to the very last whispers of album closer, “Inch”, Canyon is a downright combustible blend of seductive mysticism and spiritual awareness. She weaves through each tune like someone with way more experiences than her relatively young age has let on, that sort of ‘old soul’ ethos that the best folk singers possess. She is a troubadour secure in her own skin and her own craft and she picks and croons her way through eleven tracks of elegant, pop-infused, indie folk.
Canyon has truly constructed the full package on this album – gorgeous poetry and tremendous songwriting, delivered with aplomb, and given a treatment of lush production. But make no mistake, whether delivered with the full package of bells and whistles or standing on stage to face the crowd alone, Canyon, her voice and her words and her ability to construct a truly memorable song are the flower-filled centerpiece at this dinner table. She’s a songwriter with a potent arsenal of music and the hope here is that we continue to hear more of it in the future.