Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10

Times change, the circle of life continues onto whatever path fate may have decreed, and which we can either negotiate a more fruitful path, or we can go along with the events strewn in our way. Maybe Half A Lifetime ago life was easier to navigate, maybe the songs had the softer edge of innocence attached to them, but we have chosen a path to which the signs point to a place in which none of us, bar the egotistical and masters of the sleight of hand, truly want to go.

The courage of the songwriter and the artist comes through when they step against the grain, when they allow the music to return to the point where the roads diverged and place themselves into a time of memory that was there before they entered the world; it is a fork in the road to which Calum Gilligan has purposely found and set up his E.P. trailer, a foundation of music built upon from his wonderful association as part of the Liverpool duo Limerance with Jenny Coyle, and one that is natural, thoughtful and uncaged.

Maybe Half A Lifetime may only consist of five songs, but in those precious gems stands a feeling of understanding the songwriter and artist in such a way that the need to hold the songs close is overwhelming, that the time played with is enough to reminisce of Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel at their absolute best, and with Danny Bradley alongside Calum Gilligan on the album, a lifetime, even half, is one to savour.

Across the five songs that make up the E.P., So Long, Otago Fox, Knowing All I Know, You Made Me Something and Wash Away, the return to an era of song-writing that was full of description, of growth and delicate passion is one that sees the fork in the road dismissed, the reveal of just one path is enough to continue the presence of life and affirm it from the stage and the studio.

A beautiful set of songs, ones that understand the pain of existence, but prove that life, in any form, is more than worthwhile pursuing, it is a demand to be grateful for.

Ian D. Hall