Han’s 2024 album, Golden Boy, is an eclectic yet cohesive musical journey, combining elements of rock, folk, psychedelia, grunge, chamber ensemble, choral, and even brief hints of flamenco/gypsy.
Michael Harris’ songcraft feels as much driven by instinct as by popular norms, with musical structure and words cooperating seamlessly––never sounding contrived. Strong melodies with tasteful restraint of instrumental embellishments and vocal harmonies keep this listen right in the sweet spot nearly the whole way through.
Marty Hailey’s skillful engineering and mix (and surely William Bowden’s mastering) are on full display here, with tasteful reverb, crystal clarity of instrumentation, and full stereo width. The arrangement and production (shared by Hailey and songwriter Michael Harris) deliver something interesting at every frequency: from deep, satisfying lows, through rich and resonant guitar-driven mids, rising to the sparkly highs of the strings and cymbals.
Over a foundation of earthy acoustic, bass, and full-throated electric guitars, with vibey synths and crisp drums, the melodic arrangements of strings, vocals, and sometimes lead guitar, take turns guiding the story. The airy texture of backing vocal harmonies and shimmering string ensembles add depth and atmosphere.
The opening track "Fading Away" instantly hooks me with a psychedelic fanfare of strings, guitars, and drums. Instrumental passages trade off with vocals in broad, octave harmonies, establishing an expansive sense of space in the composition. This captivating grandeur carries on through the pulsating, slow-rock chant of "Time Heals," culminating with an arena-rock guitar lead that fades to chamber ensemble.
Something about the production, reverb, and lead guitar tone of the song "Astray" induces the fuzzy comfort of 90s era nostalgia (perhaps for the one-off music project, Polaris, for the TV serial The Adventures of Pete and Pete).
The melancholic, semi-traditional acoustic air of "Maybe Now" is swiftly cleared by a head-bobbing, steady-rock grunge in "Space Invading."
"Fall Down Slowly" adds a dash of energetic, traveling-gypsy flamenco, with modal key changes stirring up the already delicious soup. Somehow, too, I taste a hint of something picked from the Soundgarden, though it may be my imagination.
The one somewhat low point on this record, for me, is the classic groove of "I Wanted It," where Han’s characteristic restraint is taken a bit too far and I find it begins to drag; most of the record has just the right amount of variation for me, but here "I wanted it" a bit more. Yet it’s still a solid groove and will keep the body moving, even if the mind wanders elsewhere.
Although I did not find lyrics available for reading, Harris’ unassuming lead-vocal delivery, along with the excellent mix, ensure that his words are more often intelligible than not. The message isn’t always instantly obvious, but the verbiage and tone feel authentic and relatable.
Lyrically, I was moved most by the sparse yet grand "When I Grow Old," wherein Harris follows the title with the confession, "I want to be the kind of man that even I could never be." By the end of the song, this expression of aspiration and humility seems almost revered by the closing line, "Take a chance...and finally embrace the worth of true romance."
The strings shine brightest of all in the patient, atmospheric landscape of "Holy Now," with their gorgeous counterpoint and melodic patterns. Around the half-way point, enter the textural ancillary percussion and vocal chorus (provided by The Welcome Choir). While the release notes indicate that this section borrows from Neil Diamond’s "Holly Holy," I am taken back to some of my favorite classic anthems by Elbow, like "Grace Under Pressure" and "One Day Like This."
The record closes with what seems a pleasant ode to contentment with the comforts of home and loved ones in "I Don’t Wanna Go Out," though I suspect there may be more complex feelings behind this final vignette.
While there is both lightness and heaviness of mood––trading major/minor keys and varied energy levels throughout––we know there is a hint of grief behind at least some of these sounds, as Han’s Bandcamp profile notes influence from "the sudden death of a beloved sibling that occurred during the process of recording the album."
As the clever album cover suggests, "Golden Boy" is a work of art very much worthy of that red, art-gallery "sold" sticker. In fact, you should buy it right now, perhaps from Han’s Bandcamp store. I just added it to my cart.