There is a darkness seething just under the surface of Local Haunt, a tension that pushes and pulls between sultry vocals, smooth as silk and twice as nice, and a painful mourning for something lost or missing. To call their music R&B is a disservice not only to the genre, but the musicians involved, as it misses out on what makes them so unique.
You might focus on the production, which adheres loosely to Brian Eno’s adage of music that is as ignorable as it is interesting, a vehicle for the vocal narrative that reveals multiple layers with repeat listens.
You might focus on the immense vocal talent of Tyler Thurman & Morgan Boeckel, which stands out as both quietly cool and vulnerable all at once. But there is no one element that identifies their charm, a taut balancing act between sweet and sour, night and day.