Call them alt-country, call them roots-rock. The accuracy of genre identification matters not, as at the heart of the matter lies a simple fact: Brisbane’s Halfway are damned good songwriters. That the key writing duo of John Busby and Chris Dale are past winners of the Grant McLennan Fellowship - a $20,000 Arts Queensland grant – is not surprising given the strengths of their third LP.

Recorded by Wayne Connolly and featuring a Robert Forster production credit, it’s their most ambitious and considered work to date. Even at their most scintillating - 'Sweetheart, Please Don't Start', a five-minute long, achingly beautiful epic - Halfway are characterised by a rare kind of understated cohesion. There are very few sharp edges on ‘Sweetheart’, and I don’t mean that as a backhanded compliment: it’s the most gripping song here by a long way. Built on a recurring refrain ("Not like some old love/You're more like the sea/A heart's coming home, love/And they wash you to me"), it's only in the final 90 seconds that the song is injected with a sense of urgency through an increase in tempo and the appearance of softly-distorted guitars.

For the most part, though, these uncomplicated songs are stripped of extraneous gloss. Complemented by a sparkling six-piece – including banjo, pedal steel, keys and percussion – Busby and Dale write songs that speak to core human emotions. The laconic '110' ("In my corner/I just don't feel the same anymore") assembles a smoothly-flowing rock song around a reconciled relationship, while opening track 'Oscar' eases the listener in with the LP's most memorable hook ("I don't pretend to know what's in your head/Books, booze, and Oscar De La Hoya's sweet hands").

The assured ease with which all eight members gel on this record will appeal beyond their alt-country roots, putting them in a similar class to fellow Queenslanders The Gin Club. It also helps that in Busby and Dale, Halfway are led by two masters of their craft.

by Andrew McMillen