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The latest EP from Halifax bleeding-heart quintet Quiet Parade finds the group writing some of its most powerful and contemplative songs to date. What started as a solo project for songwriter Trevor Murphy (ex-Sleepless Nights and The Establishment) has matured into an organic, full band effort on Old Haunts. The new album is a collection of songs reflecting on places and people of the past – a reoccurring theme in Quiet Parade’s fog-laden songs.
Voted the Best Band To Listen To Quietly by The Coast’s Best of Music Reader’s Poll for the last three years, Quiet Parade once again taps into its core of introspective and honest songs to present a record that stirs up long-standing ghosts, lingering memories and a glimmer of hope for better days. Whether lamenting relationships or dwelling on fears, the old haunts in these songs are more than just physical. They channel the idea that the hauntingly familiar is in everything.
Recorded last August at Halifax's Codapop Studios, Old Haunts was produced by award-winning producer Daniel Ledwell (Jenn Grant, Heather Green, Gabrielle Papillon, In-Flight Safety.) who was also at the helm of Quiet Parade’s last full-length, Please Come Home (We Hate It Here Without You).
The albumopens with one the band's most up-tempo songs to date. "Ghosts" is a song about a creeping past sneaking its way into a stagnant present of unfulfilled promise and trepidation. Channeling spirited Canadian indie rock, "Edge of the Ocean" is an anthem about a dying town that seems hopeless but is still worth fighting for. Murphy might be writing about a specific place, but this song could easily be about any rural community in North America. "How Come You Never Call (Or Write)?" follows the vein of earlier Quiet Parade releases and is a call and response vocal between Murphy and piano player Julia Weir about confronting the idea of a once-important person who's moved on without giving it much thought.
The band showcases some of its strongest playing on "Easy on Me," a swinging, spacy shuffle about finding some way to soften the blow of saying goodbye, before ending appropriately with "Feel Young". Its narrative strikes the most hopeful tone though is contrasted with an eerie backdrop of piano and slide guitar. Complete with a New Orleans funeral-style march interlude, the song somehow relinquishes the aforementioned ghosts by finding solace in the comfort of a one and only.