“it’s all coming to a head / tell me when it’s safe / for now i’m in your hands”
Seductive and moody and oh-so-beautifully textured, the songs of Calla are reflections and shadowy whispers from your hidden corners. Listening to these songs is like sitting at a dark corner table in a basement bar, or being underground with a fallen angel telling you fables, or walking the city on a quiet night, or waking up from a dream and trying to grasp at the fleeting images that just recently occupied your mind.
On Collisions, it takes until their third song to return to the bare-bones whispering and minimal bass that characterized Televise. This is their bread and butter—the collision of silence and caged passion that always threatens to explode, and often does. Nonetheless, Collisions is a step forward for Calla. It is more confident and, dare I say, more upbeat than Televise. Starting off fast and strong and loud, the disc bristles with tension, haunting melodies, precision, and gorgeously thick music. Sonic cousins of Interpol, the members of Calla seem ready to inspire their own brood of imposters.
They seem to be more comfortable in their hipster-angst skins, drawing on their music to suck emotions out of the air that are so very rich. They’re one of the best-sounding bands to emerge from New York in the last few years. Make it a point to share some time with Calla. Delve in. Revel in. Breathe in. Collide with your hidden self.