Mallory Hawk strikes rock gold when she digs at her hometown roots. Chinook, the songwriter and multi-instrumentalist’s debut album, takes its title from the music of her old backyard: the overhead chuffing of helicopters. Hawk grew up in Fayetteville, NC, a quintessential military town; her dad’s ear was so trained to the sounds of aircrafts, he’d call out their names without looking up. “It’s the only helicopter in the world that can collide with itself,” he once noted to her after hearing a Chinook CH-47 pass, as the machine’s unique double-propeller construction can cause it to literally rip apart.
In its workhorse strength, life-saving purpose, and self-destructive potential, Hawk saw a perfect analogy for herself: an unflagging caretaker, often to the detriment of her wellbeing. “Even when I was down to the last bit of fuel in my reserve tank, I’d still give away every last drop to nurture and care for others. Routinely channeling my anger into song made me realize that my self-sacrifice had to stop,” she remembers.
The songs on Chinook are sparkling facets of her insight into place, personhood and obligation, unflinchingly presented with the power and versatility of someone who could tear herself in two with all that lifting, but instead uses art as her rescue.
❋ bandcamp
❋ substack
