Were you disappointed with the new A Silver Mt. Zion album? If so, don’t worry, you’re certainly not alone. Well then, let it be known: The Heritage is everything that 13 Blues for Thirteen Moons should have been, and so much more.
Her Name Is Calla are a four-piece from the U.K., and although they are still newcomers to this scene (in terms of their recorded output, that is), their previous output has been received very warmly. As with so many of the bands emerging today, it’s rather hard to put a specific label on them; the heavy use of vocals prevents one from calling them “instrumental” or “post-rock,” but the long song times and absence of traditional structure means that one can’t really label them “indie” either. So, I suppose it will have to suffice to refer to them as a rock band with guitars, bass, drums, plenty of experimentation, and more spirit and enthusiasm than you can shake a stick at.
As I said earlier, the general sound on The Heritage is rather something like that which has been explored by A Silver Mt. Zion since 2003. Calla’s songs are not quite as long as those of ASMZ, but the focus on epic walls of guitar supplanted liberally by whatever other instruments seem to make sense at the time certainly helps the comparison. The easiest place to find similarity, however, is in the vocals of singer Tom Morris, who belts out his lyrics with a voice remarkably similar to that of Efrim Menuck. This is particularly apparent on “Motherfucker it’s Alive and Bleeding,” the stand-out track from an album containing almost nothing but inspired moments of greatness. The song begins with a long and gradual build-up that lasts for most of the first six minutes of the song, which is led by electric guitar and wonderfully accompanied by the acoustic variant and some vocals which are almost incomprehensible in their magnificent softness. Then Morris finally screams out at the climax, “This is panic! This is anger!” while voices “oooo” and “ahhh” cinematically in the background, and the effect is so similar to Efrim at his most passionate that it sends chills down my spine. But even without the ASMZ comparison, those chills would still be there – this song is a masterpiece of a climactic build-up, and I would personally recommend keeping an extra pair of pants nearby when listening for the first time.
While it’s easy to point out the similarities between Her Name Is Calla and A Silver Mt. Zion, it’s far more important to point out why they surpass almost everything that ASMZ has written since 2003. The most common criticism of 13 Blues for Thirteen Moons was that Efrim was singing far too often, and that, frankly, his voice just plain sucked. Her Name Is Calla deftly avoid such traps in two ways: first, Morris knows when to shut up for a second and let the instruments do the talking. Not only does this minimize the negative aspects of his voice, but it actually maximizes the impact when he does come in and sing. He is so effective at balancing time spent singing vs. time spent not singing that I am instantly reminded just why I loved those early ASMZ records so much. The second way that Calla avoids such traps is by allowing Morris to actually sing. That is to say, he does not stick merely to the bitter and agnst-ridden Efrim-style caterwaul. As songs like the sublime hidden track show us, Morris has a masterful voice, both wonderfully powerful and articulate. These are vocals done right, and I cannot come up with the smallest criticism of Morris’ singing.
The other instruments (and there are so many more than members of the band!) are certainly to be lauded as well, but I feel like there could be a little bit more in terms of length. This is a rare criticism to make, because it is usually the case that bands we review here at The Silent Ballet turn in songs that are far too long, and we are made to drudge through minute upon pointless minute of absent guitarwork, etc. On the contrary, all of the songs on The Heritage have an extremely appropriate sense of their own composition, and there is nary a note that could be done without. But I wonder if perhaps the truly extraordinary accessibility which permeates the album was not taken a bit too far; although these are not short songs (“New England” runs past a ninth minute), I am almost always left with the sense that the song would have been so much better if they had just extended it a bit further. To use an analogy: although the amps of Her Name Is Calla are much larger, louder, and of better quality than 90% of the bands out there, Calla is still holding back from turning them all the way to 11. 10.5 is pretty good, but it’s not nearly there yet.
As I said, Her Name Is Calla is a tough band to pigeonhole. Although I have focused in on the A Silver Mt. Zion comparison, this does not really give proper credit to the magnificence and variance of their sound, which can turn from a dynamic apocalypse into an acoustic number with all the warmness of a lazy Sunday in the country. As previously mentioned, singer Tom Morris can sound so much like Efrim Menuck that it’s creepy, but he also possess a voice with a power and a harmony and a pleasantness far beyond anything that could ever come out of Efrim’s mouth. This extremely talented band, fundamentally experimental in nature, defies any attempt to describe them using only one set of adjectives.
For all the praise I have heaped on Her Name Is Calla throughout this review, I still feel like they are holding back a bit, and I am positive that their best work is still ahead of them. That they are so good at the current moment, and that they still have farther to go, shows just how mind-bogglingly, ear-splittingly kick-mother-fucking-ass I expect their next album to be. And after all, they haven’t even written a full LP yet! The Heritage, which is by far their longest work to date, is self-described as a “mini-album.” I guess what I’m saying is this: Her Name Is Calla is a brilliant band with an even more brilliant future ahead of them. This album comes extremely recommended.
-Tom Butcher