Pastures by Halcyon: A Wild Ride Through Jazz, Rock, and Everything In-Between
Alright, let’s talk about Pastures by Halcyon. Released back in 2011 (yeah, that’s over a decade ago—time flies when you're noodling on your guitar), this self-released Australian gem is the kind of album that makes you go “Wait… what genre even IS this?” It’s jazz. No, it’s rock. Actually, it’s progressive metal mixed with prog rock vibes and some fusion sprinkled on top like chili flakes on pizza. Confused yet? Good. That’s the point.
Halcyon pulls out all the stops here, but one name sticks out in the credits: Plini on guitar. If you don’t know who he is, well, where have you been? Dude’s got fingers faster than a caffeinated squirrel. And trust me, his work shines through loud and clear on tracks like "Waterfall" and "Noodle 3." Let’s break ‘em down real quick.
First up, "Waterfall." This track hits you right away with its dreamy intro—it’s like stepping into a cool stream after walking through the desert. The melodies are smooth as butter, but then BAM! You’re hit with these gnarly riffs that feel like they were ripped straight from another dimension. What I love most is how effortlessly it switches between chill moments and face-melting chaos. It’s unpredictable without being obnoxious, which is harder to pull off than it sounds. Also, fun fact: every time I hear this song, I get thirsty. Weird, huh?
Then there’s "Noodle 3," because apparently naming songs creatively wasn’t high on their priority list. Don’t let the silly title fool you though; this thing slaps HARD. Imagine if someone took a jazz jam session, threw in some heavy distortion pedals, and added just enough funk to make your head bob uncontrollably. Oh, and those solos? They’re so good they almost feel illegal. Plini flexes his skills here like he’s auditioning for Guitar God Academy, and honestly, I’d give him an A+.
Other tracks like “Firefly” and “Django Fett” keep the energy alive, while tunes like “Intermission” offer little breathers before diving back into madness. But honestly, the whole vibe of Pastures feels like hanging out with mates who are way better musicians than you’ll ever be—but hey, at least they share their snacks.
So yeah, Pastures isn’t perfect. Some parts might feel too experimental for casual listeners, and sure, calling a song “Noodle” twice borders on lazy. But man, does it leave an impression. Listening to this album feels like wandering through a musical jungle—sometimes confusing, often exhilarating, but always worth exploring.
And now for my reflection: If aliens ever invade Earth and demand we hand over our best example of human creativity, I’d probably toss them a copy of Pastures. Because if nothing else, it proves we can blend genres like nobody’s business. Plus, maybe the extraterrestrials will dig Plini’s shredding enough to spare us. Stranger things have happened, right?
