His first release under the name dr.rift, a self-titled album, Canadian multi-instrumentalist Kyle Halldorson creates art like it’s fallen from pages of a journal written in solitude and sorrow. It’s an incredibly modern and accessible example of genre fusion, capturing gorgeous progressive rock and psychedelic moments.
Crafted in the long shadows of personal loss, ‘dr.rift’ is a record born from rupture. Its roots dig into the deep soil of mourning- the passing of Halldorson’s father, a pivotal figure in his life and musical upbringing- and yet what blooms here isn’t just catharsis, but something defiantly alive. From the first track, you can sense the emotional voltage humming beneath the surface. It’s a record that balances tightrope-walking complexity with moments of pure, open-hearted release.
Musically, this is shape-shifting territory: psychedelic textures crash into folk-inflected refrains, angular indie passages dissolve into grooves thick with funk and dusted with pop sweetness. There’s a fever-dream quality to it all. The fingerprints of giants- Radiohead’s delicate spirals, Soundgarden’s heavy-souled grit, Puscifer’s acoustic scene-building moments- are all there, but Halldorson filters them through his own lens.
The process behind the record feels just as raw. Built from voice notes and half-formed ideas captured during long shifts and longer days, the album carries the urgency of someone clinging to creation like a life raft. Collaborating remotely with drummer Edward Oakes (a brother-in-arms from their Discovenant days), Halldorson stitched together full-band arrangements that somehow retain the spirit of those lo-fi sketches. It’s polished but not too clean.
There are standout moments scattered across the record’s wide canvas: warped guitar riffs (‘Sky Parade’), unexpected tempo shifts that jar you awake (‘Like A Charm’), hooks that feel like gut-punches softened with melody (‘Fleeting’). But it’s the emotional throughline that binds it all together, the sense that each track is a conversation with grief, or maybe with someone no longer there. You can almost see Halldorson performing live as you listen
If you’re looking for easy classification, ‘dr.rift’ won’t give it to you. This is an album that resists tidy boxes. It fuses, fractures, rebuilds, and pulses with a belief in the transformative power of music. That art can hold your sorrow, carry your ghosts, and still find a way to sound like joy.