Boston gang of rabble rousers bullies pop music into stunning productions on their debut.

Hallelujah the Hills is truly a godsend. Set on a path to restore the faith of indie-rock enthusiasts sick of both over-arranged rock and maddeningly simple distorted power chord pop, Hallelujah the Hills have come down to save the day with their glittering and grimy debut Collective Psychosis Begone.
Hallelujah the Hills was born in 2005 out of the ashes of the cult Boston band The Stairs. On the night of their final performance Ryan Walsh (Vox, Guitar) and Eric Meyer (Drums) announced that they would start a new band, naming it after a somewhat bizarre 1960’s comedy Walsh had seen in a college film class. The movie, Hallelujah the Hills, as Walsh summarizes it is about, “These men [who] are buffoons but they're also pretty admirable for their devotion to foolishness.”
This seemed to summarize what they were all about musically. Hallelujah the Hills is one of the most admirably devoted, unconventional bands to have come out of Boston in recent years. Boston has likewise been waiting for them as demonstrated by packed shows and regular accolades from the Boston Phoenix (where they are now up for an award for Best New Band) and the BostonWeekly Dig. The band's line-up of bass, drums, cello, Moog, trumpet, melodica, sampler and plenty of guitars grants them the space to expand and contract as their melodies and arrangements see fit. Think of them as the sonic equivalent to Willy Wonka's ferry ride, seemingly random yet utterly precise, first drifting along a chocolate river with a gentle lulling sound then hurtling you into the unknown with a thundering danger until you arrive somewhere entirely new, a fantastic destination full of wonder.
Unlike some of their anthemic peers,Hallelujah the Hills find solace in the space between their crashing crescendos and choral peaks and that's a subtle strength of the band. It grants the songs a great diversity, from amped-up campfire sing-alongs to somber ballads. You'll hear notable traces of Spoon-style boogie, Thermals lo-fi fight songs, and Dylan's thick imagery dressed in dustbowl rags. One of Hallelujah the Hills' most distinct qualities is an unnameable chemistry and spontaneity that makes them sound like a band, a gang of men armed with a goulash of sounds that makes one wonder how there can only be six people on stage. It is this quality that not only distinguishes them from their previous incarnation as The Stairs, but it also differentiates them from most bands in today's landscape (including any mentioned in this bio). Using this as an umbrella for the aforementioned marriage of influences (are they drunk on maple syrup, cough syrup or straight whiskey?), Hallelujah the Hills strike gold in an unmarked territory. As co-founder RyanWalsh puts it, “if there’s any tug-of-war when I’m writing, it’s the one between pop song versus everything weirder than that."
It's this refreshing approach that attracted the attention of Salon.com, who awarded the band second place in last year's unsigned band contest, popular blog Music (For Robots), who told of Collective Psychosis Begone, "I've been waiting for an album just like this one," and best-selling author Jonathan Lethem, who commissioned the band to record "Monster Eyes" a (post-LP) song inspired by lyrics and themes in his latest book, You Don't Love Me Yet, leading the Village Voice to rave, "'Monster Eyes' is fifty shades of AM-radio awesome. Call the musical glossies: this might just be the 'Best Song You've Never Heard.'"
Hallelujah the Hills has promised to make 33 albums before breaking up. 32 more or not, Collective Psychosis Begone is one hell of a start.