Style can feel secondary when the music itself does all the talking.
We inhabit a sonic terrain steered by algorithmic gatekeepers, where listeners frequently seek solace in ambient textures that can feel morally murky, delve deeper into aesthetics they already enjoy, and quietly consume tracks—perhaps AI-generated—tailored to various lifestyle moments. Critics have long lamented the public’s appetite for familiar, comforting fodder over art that challenges, ventures, and resists easy categorization; yet the era of streaming has amplified the priority of mood over melody. Mallory Hawk’s Chinook resists that conventional wisdom.
I deliberately lean on aviation imagery, not merely because the Philadelphia-based singer-songwriter shortened her surname Hawkins to conjure a bird of prey. Chinook takes its name from the helicopters that dotted the sky during Hawk’s upbringing in the military hub of Fayetteville, North Carolina. Her father reportedly described the CH-47 as “the only helicopter in the world that can collide with itself,” supplying Hawk with a metaphor for her habit of relentlessly looking after others, sometimes to her own cost. These ten songs trace that pattern—a throughline across an album that hops between genres like a shuffled iPod.
Perhaps the shift shouldn’t be surprising. Although Chinook marks Hawk’s first solo record, she previously co-led the Brooklyn post-punk outfit Customer, contributed as a sideman to the heartland-tinged Trace Mountains offspring LVL UP, and joined Dublin agitants M(h)aol as a touring bassist, in addition to a long stint co-running the essential indie-pop label Double Double Whammy. All of that experience sits under one expansive underground-rock umbrella, yet it demonstrates how versatile Hawk can be. On Chinook, she further indulges her impulse toward variety.
The opening track, “The Mirror,” nods to loud indie elders like Sonic Youth and their more pop-oriented alt-rock successors, before “D’Anger” pivots toward dance-punk. “Revolver,” a sunny acoustic-rock number that could have crowded late-90s VH1 rotation, slides into the brooding indie-folk of “Four O’Clocks,” then into the spirited garage-punk energy of “Caretaker.” That’s only the first half of the album, before the brisk, New Wave-tinged propulsion of “Superhighway” arrives and the drunkenly swaying country-rock of “Rotten Man” follows. It may feel like a different record with every track, save for the vulnerable, exhausted narrator at its center.
If Hawk were a more calculating artist, Chinook might come off as a production and songwriting dossier showing off a broad range. On the other hand, one could imagine labels balking at a project that refuses to fit neatly into a single box, leaving Hawk to release it independently. Yet the broad spectrum of sounds helps Chinook stand out, and the frequent genre leaps invite ongoing engagement. You may be puzzled by what comes next, but you’ll rarely drift into dullness.
That variety is well-executed. Working with producer Samuel Acchione, Hawk furnishes each track with restrained yet effective arrangements that consistently serve the song. When required, the guitars slice (“The Mirror”), soothe (“Four O’Clocks”), or deliver ominous crunch (“Felicity”). Logan Roth contributes lively synth textures and desolately swinging piano tones, while Tree Palmedo’s French horn and flugelhorn lend a regal glow to “Four O’Clocks.” Hawk’s vocal lines continually stand out; the way “Caretaker” builds toward multiple sing-along hooks is particularly striking. “I’m not your caretaker!” she proclaims, emphasizing each staccato beat before declaring, “I’m out/ Of my mind,” stretching the final word into a cascade of wavering syllables. A few moments later, on “Low Rise,” she twists her voice around minor-key guitar hooks, adopting a wholly different timbre as she contemplates religious guilt.
Lyrics carry substantial weight on an album like this, and Hawk delivers a memorable line after memorable line. In “Felicity,” a ballad about longing for someone elusive, the sentiment shifts from “What’s another day alone?” to “What’s another year alone?” as Hawk fills the space between these refrains with the monotonous realities of modern life: “The groceries, the service fees/ I can’t count them all.” Relationship politics return on “Superhighway” as she chronicles a relatable confusion: “Call you back tonight/ I mean it this time/ It’s heavy on my mind/ But I can’t think straight.” On the closing “Rabbit Hole,” her portrayal of conflicted attraction becomes magnetic: “One day, I’ll tell you/ How I feel about the stranger I created/ Make no mistake/ You make no mistakes in my head/ I mean it.”
Chinook’s brightest moment also feels its lightest musically. “Revolver” moves through, dips, and rises again as it reclaims a Lilith Fair-era folk-pop energy, anchored by Hawk’s most infectious chorus as she repeats “I wondered why.” Its arrangement—composed almost entirely by Hawk and Acchione, with backing vocals by Ava Mirzadegan—unfolds as a deftly evolving craft. “You saw me at my worst/ Does it get any better than this?,” Hawk asks, setting up one of the album’s most poignant lyrical turns: “Had to change to learn to love/ Had to learn to love change.” The peak comes when she drives her voice into the high register and pleads, “Come right back,” a moment of emotional intensity fused with musical momentum.
Chinook repeatedly conveys that kind of relatable ache. It’s an album about the ordinary joys and torments of human relationships, the deep feelings that animate daily routines. That drama seeps into countless contexts, gnawing at us whether we’re running errands, at a party, or endlessly scrolling in bed. In that sense, Hawk’s record presents a handcrafted alternative to mood machines: a bespoke song for every part of your day.
Chinook arrives on 7/31. You can pre-order it here.
Other albums of note out this week:
- Ariana Grande’s petal
- Arca’s XXXXX
- Shearwater’s The New World
- Mallory Hawk’s Chinook
- The Durutti Column’s Renascent
- Shannon Lay’s Past The Veil
- Ed Askew’s The Final Painting
- Cheekface’s Podium
- Green Day’s Nimrods Original Soundtrack
- Opus Kink’s The Sweet Goodbye
- The Cleaners From Venus’ Beryl & Ruff Go Shopping
- Homeboy Sandman & Jack Splash’s Resonance Frequency
- Joyeria’s Decay Decay Decay
- Shaboozey’s The Outlaw Cherie Lee & Other Western Tales
- Domi & JD Beck’s WHO ASKED?
- Sir Richard Bishop’s Hillbilly Erotica
- Dave East & Harry Fraud’s Price Of Pain
- Peals’ The Compound 76 & Le Pantoum 46
- Mopar Stars’ Official Researchers Of The NJ Devil
- Dice’s I Thought The Altitude Would Make It Worth The View
- Ggwendolyn’s Superstar Syndrome
- Elijah Wolf’s Track Star
- Wyatt Flores’ Scared Of Heights
- Patrick Belaga’s Solar Calf
- Doohickey Cubicle’s Good At It
- Prison’s Big Rigs On The BQE
- Grandma Love’s Grandma Love
- Southpaw FLHC’s The Standard
- Five Finger Death Punch’s Legacy
- Leo’s Cicada Burnt
- Future Palace’s Resurgence
- MuMu’s The Brothel: A Musical Memoir
- talker’s Runaway Jane
- The Crooked Stuff’s Synthetic Signals
- J.Stone’s Minor Setbacc Major Comebacc
- Cautious Clay’s The Hours: High Noon
- Eleh’s Floating Frequencies/Intuitive Synthesis 1
- Spike’s Spike
- Nora Stanley’s Glass
- 2ŁØT’s RE/SOLVE
- Allt’s Ataraxia
- Terri Lyne Carrington + Social Science’s Trip The Night Fantastic
- Tim Montana’s Entire State Of Tim Montana
- GA-20 With Charlie Musselwhite’s BLUES NOW
- Preloved’s Willow
- Ryman’s Growing Pains
- HAYLA’s DARK
- Dumb Waiter’s Change
- PNAU’s AHHCade
- sachi’s mirror’ Talking In A Different Way
- Moonspell’s Far From God
- Bear McCreary’s The Singularity: Ekleipsis
- Family Stereo’s The Thread
- Off Contact’s Can You?
- Iconic’s II
- Steve Rachmad’s Light And Time
- Framing Hanley’s Do you feel guilty being okay?
- Bondo’s Bondo
- Dark Lo & V Don’s Made Of Gold
- Firas Zreik’s Tarabesque
- Stare Away’s In Absence
- The Family’s Delusions Of Grandeur
- Amy Shark’s soft pop
- Francisca Valenzuela’s MALDITA
- Various Artists’ Good Guy With A Gun!
- The Body’s Master, We Perish (Expanded)
- Janine Berdin’s LAB SONGS NG MGA TANGA (Deluxe)
- Various Artists’ Moana: Voices Across The Ocean
- Various Artists’ fabric presents Mount Kimbie
- Various Artists’ Pickin’ On Post Malone
- Fcukers’ nüyork EP
- Shearling’s Don’t Look At Me The Way A Dog Might Look At Your Leg EP
- Sex Mask’s Raid EP
- J.P. Reali’s Grateful Blues EP
- Perfect Person’s Some Kind Of Life EP
- Bonnie Kemplay’s Someone, somewhere EP
- Absolute Lilt’s Criostal EP
- Megafang’s FOG ABS EP
- Tucker Wetmore’s Sunburn Mixtape EP
- Aukai & Vraell’s Meld EP
- tg.blk’s besides you EP
- Bob Holroyd & Simon Painter’s Close Up And Far Away EP
- Lovejoy’s Second To One EP
- Spookystack’s Clown EP
