Mallory Hawk's Chinook: A Soul-Bearing, Burden-Breaking Debut

Mallory Hawk’s Chinook: A Soul-Bearing, Burden-Breaking Debut

Mallory Hawk confronts the not-so-delicate topics that shaped her and amplifies an expressive pursuit of self-preservation in her July 31 release, Chinook.

The 10-track debut album builds personal boundaries through an experimental and deliberate rock subgenre journey; it examines sources of childhood adversity and nostalgia through metaphor, moments of self-sacrifice, and worldviews that led Hawk to want freedom. 

Opener “The Mirror” highlights the disconnect between ideals, pride, and politics-fueled realities, a tension depicted in sound from the track’s start. A dismal, crackling percussion soundscape morphs into something more mellow before Hawk’s ethereal vocals slide underneath. Guitar lines emerge in the middle and strike around resonant and thematic lyrics like, “One day you’ll see all I see, we can share.” 

Hawk’s poetic lyrics continue shining in the standout song “D’Anger.” Electronic sounds usher in the robotically rhythmic line, “Invasion of the ungrateful. That’s enough, thank you.” A commanding bassline and indie-rooted guitar phrases provide momentum while accentuating Hawk’s disdain toward harmfully putting others who “take, and take, and take” first.

“Revolver” ditches the sweet strumming for plucky punctuation that supports Hawk’s clear, contemplative vocals. Mini vocal flips and a well-executed shift into an artfully tangled, almost waltzing rhythm made the track memorable.

The folky brightness prevails in “Four O’ Clocks,” which sees Hawk reminiscing about her childhood home before it was demolished in favour of building a highway to a military base.

Grave-sounding harmonies kick in immediately, describing how this home let Hawk learn to run and “build a sturdy base.” Her lyrics appeal to several senses, featuring depictions of the song’s namesake flowers and the feeling of her yard’s soil. 

“Caretaker” takes on the last track’s infectious energy, which directs its contrasting, biting vocals. Hawk breaks pitch in a musical meltdown dripping with sarcasm about her “luck” and lack of agency. When isolated, these lyrics sufficiently express her disgust with conformity and scream, “I’m out of my mind,” but the track’s pounding percussion adds a welcome boost of fury.

Unlike the previous track’s opening vocal hook, “Low Rise” gains momentum through distortion and anchoring percussion. Hawk’s cries and yells hauntingly divulge her teenage relationship to Christianity and its repercussions. 

“Superhighway” is a complete shift sonically free of the anguish in “Low Rise;” Hawk channels an indie feel and ‘80s sound reminiscent of The Cure. Every element feels softened yet clear; twinkles of synth and interspersed guitar phrases dance around low vocal lines with a megaphone effect. It’s an all-around easygoing, prominent, and balanced track from its start to its vibrant, clean finish.

A preloaded keyboard rhythm turned intricate drives the refreshed return to folk-rock on “Felicity.” Hawk reveals more and more of her full vocal range as the song progresses; while other complex elements get washed out by more simplistic components, this approach makes her most important messages strong.

“Rotten Man” picks up the pace “Felicity” lightened and embraces Hawk’s diatribe toward a seemingly misogynistic antagonist. Through careful enunciation, she questions his morality and relationship to his mother, asking, “Did you even consider those nine months she spent in your honour?”

The song’s attention-piquing piano improv intensifies as Hawk starts repeating, “If her bough shall break, would you sing her a lullaby? Would you save her life?” She eventually answers these questions over the repetitions, saying, “She would sing you a lullaby, she would save your life.” 

The album closes on a slower note with “Rabbit Hole,” which has light glimmering instruments, soothing vocals, and a faraway-feeling steel pedal echo. When combined, these facets create a dreamy and comforting mood fit for a well-placed, satisfactory wind-down.

Chinook thrives in its variety, hints of childlike glow, and thematic richness. Repetition is rare and intentional, keeping a broad listenership invested in every message and aware of every element. Hawk’s musical aptitude is demonstrated clearly enough that even moments of musical whimsy help cement the project’s craftmanship.

Those who press play on the project hoping for immersive nostalgia and rebellious, emotion-driven storytelling will emerge from their listen-throughs feeling content.



This page may contain affiliate links to providers from whom Indie Is Not A Genre receives a commission. These links are marked with an asterisk (*).

Scroll to Top