Calla
Strength In Numbers

Brief introduction for those unfamiliar with the group: Calla is a band teetering between post-rock and slowcore (disregarding the pop slip of Collisions), endowed with great personality and sensitivity, combining noisy bursts with moments of deep intimacy perfectly. For those who enjoy points of reference, Calla is a band halfway between Mogwai, Low, and The Cure, borrowing from the first the distorted and noisy vein, while from the latter two a subdued singing style with sure emotional impact.

And now it's time to talk about the album in question: Strength In Numbers. The album is positioned midway between the pop of the previous work Collisions and the masterpiece Televise, with ballads suspended between melancholy (Defenses Down) and anger (Sanctify), alternating between subdued atmospheres with predominantly acoustic presence (Sylvia's Song) and more rocking songs (Bronson), unfortunately, however, the noisy vein has almost completely vanished, maintaining only the calm pace of Televise. Calla's skill lies in expertly combining sonic idiosyncrasies, creating an album that smells like winter, exactly so, the group's winning card is the great emotional impact they have on the listener, guiding them toward the paths of their melancholy. While moving on very different coordinates, Calla evokes The Cure of Disintegration and Faith, and the beautiful subdued voice of the singer does the rest.

But don't be fooled by the references, this is not another similar-gothic group with pomaded faces and saccharine songs all tears and sugar. Calla perfectly embodies the melancholic and slow spirit of slowcore, managing to convey it masterfully in song forms that are sometimes rock, sometimes acoustic, making this musical genre more accessible, enriched with a dash of feeling and passion.

In my opinion, the standout tracks are the opener, definitely dark-rock Sanctify, the beautiful acoustic ballad Rise, and the enchanting A Sure Shot, the latter can be considered the manifesto of the new Calla: soft electric melodies unraveling delicately and slowly, provoking with their slow yet swirling pace, true emotional climaxes.

In conclusion, the band, while far from the sonic particularity of Televise, has kept its artistic vein intact, translating it into more classic but greatly profound and sentimental songs. An album that I recommend to all those who love The Cure, Low, and a certain type of intimate music, which, although not chamber music, still manages to speak in a low voice straight to the heart.