Half Moon Run Let The Sun Lead Them On Their Second Album

Ah, Canada. You gave us Whistler - home to a disproportionate number of Aussies. You gave us maple syrup, Java script and Ellen Page. We will forgive you for Nickelback and Bieber because of Drake, Jim Carrey, Neil Young and Ryan Reynolds. Mmm, Ryan Reynolds... But a group working their way to the top of our 'Things We <3 About Canada' list is the Montrealian four-piece Half Moon Run, who broke said hearts with their elegiac winter-folk track Full Circle from their debut record Dark Eyes back in 2012.

Multi-instrumentalist Isaac Symonds joined the founding members Devon Portielje, Conner Molander and Dylan Phillips during the early days of the Dark Eyes tour - a journey that saw them undertake an immense two years of relentless gigging, practically living in one another's pockets along the way. The inevitable result was a bad case of writer's block and a desperate need for a sea change - one they found on the coast of California. "Touring itself [is] kinda all encompassing I find," explains Conner Molander - who, we can report with amazement, does not say 'aboot' or 'aye' once during our chat. "It doesn't leave much room - I guess we require a bit of mental space to be creative to come up with new ideas, and touring doesn't really allow you a lot of mental space. It's like, you're always in front of other people or you're exhausted or you're caught up in the show or whatever.

"Creatively, we're pretty independent... You always feel like you're fighting through [writer's block]. That's true of a lot of creative jobs, there's no formula for it, and if there is it becomes a formula, and probably the work you're doing won't be very interesting. I think a bit about addressing the tough patches differently - try to expect them and don't get too personally bummed out about it," he enlightens.

Defrosting mentally and physically in the surf, the fruits of their newfound inspiration Sun Leads Me On eschews the ice-laced melancholy of its predecessor in favour of a more cosmopolitan approach to alt-folk. Their trademark harmonisation and moody ensemble arrangements remain, but this second record has a spaciousness and driving pulse that marks a new way forward for the group.

Molander jokes about the Quebecian accent, admitting that "it's quite different". "I even find that we go to France - some of our crew is from Quebec - and [the French] will prefer to speak to our crew in English because they can't understand anything!... It's like putting someone from Texas and someone from Northern Scotland in the same room together, I don't think they'd understand each other very well," he illustrates. Strange fact: French-Canadian doesn't have literal translations for English swear words, instead using profanities grounded in Catholicism. "You can drop F-bombs on Quebec TV and it's okay because it doesn't [translate]. Which is nice because I got a loose tongue sometimes," he laughs.