Citizen: Halcyon Blues

0.0

0.0

Reader Score

No score yet, be the first to add.

0.0

Genre:

Rock

Label:

Run for Cover

Release Date:

2026

You could never accuse Citizen of stasis. The Midwest outfit’s sound has been called indie hardcore and soft grunge, but the group constantly adds new, off-kilter elements to its template. Their 2013 debut Youth, for example, was filled with jagged post-punk flourishes, and a decade later, Calling the Dogs featured high-energy indie-rock fusion. This versatility means Citizen can be tourmates with a straight-up pop-punk outfit like The Story So Far just as easily as they can feature on a track with New York hardcore bruisers Missing Link. On Halcyon Blues, the band’s sixth record, their latest evolution is one of attitude, not style; here, they embrace a newfound maturity and wisdom that invigorates their sound.

There is more than a bit of Youth’s stark gloom on this new collection of songs, as well as the ambition of 2017’s As You Please. But mostly, the prevalent mood on Halcyon Blues is one of reckoning. Over the groovy stomp of “Either Way,” singer Mat Kerekes wonders, “How many times do we have to be hurt before we get it right?” On “Ether,” he’s wrestling with impostor syndrome and begging for help maintaining his footing. Many of the songs on Halcyon Blues channel this mood of regret, and yet the music is kinetic enough that songs that might otherwise feel weighted with portent feel refreshingly light on their feet.

No score yet, be the first to add.

0.0

On Halcyon Blues, Citizen continue their practice of splitting the difference between aggression and beauty, and the results feel cohesive, not bifurcated. Opener “Good Fortune” kicks off with a cascade of post-hardcore propulsion, but there’s a lilt, a lightness, to the song that’s disarming. The song is melancholic while deploying sneaky pop melodies; its bridge feels replenishing, like lifting your head above water after a period of submersion. The album features a few big, anthemic rock songs that feel built for the Warped Tour stage Citizen recently found themselves on—like “Matador,” which thrashes, then chills out, then thrashes again. The hard-charging “I Can See You From Here,” too, is both enormous and intimate, and when Kerekes asks, “When you’re thinking of me/Do you feel happy?” the moment feels charged with anticipation. These are songs in which torment and acceptance become bedfellows, each needing the other in order to exist.

Citizen have never exactly been light listening, and on Halcyon Blues, they sound remarkably dextrous while seemingly carrying the weight of the world on their shoulders. The title track, a bruised-sounding lament, exudes the feeling of abandonment, and the whole thing is almost unbearably sad—that is, until the drums settle into a hypnotic shuffle, transforming one of the LP’s most downbeat numbers into something halfway danceable. “Always the Last One to Leave” paints an evocative portrait of yearning (“Last night you snuck through my window/We fell asleep with our clothes on”), reconciling the romanticism of youth with the pragmatic realities of the present. It could just as easily be dedicated to a former lover as an estranged friend: Here and elsewhere, Kerekes sounds less resigned to life’s demands and more at peace with the fundamental compromise that any act of growth entails.

Our world feels chaotic, lonely, and confusing right now, and Citizen offer a fitting soundtrack precisely because they understand the power of looking inward: that peace can be found within one’s self during times of upheaval. In their constant evolution, they show that momentum can be a meaningful antidote to hopelessness, and that momentum without direction is just running in place. On the LP’s elegiac closer, “Anne,” Kerekes croons, “It’s a gift to be alone/You’ll realize down the road.” In this fleeting and gorgeous moment, the overriding themes of Halcyon Blues snap into crystal-clear focus: Kerekes is offering—to the listener, and perhaps to himself, too—patience, reassurance, and hope.

0.0

0.0