Review Summary: The, “circus troupe of wanderers,” has potential, but ultimately never makes it out from under the tent.
We all know that kid, the one who gets their first big toy, (skateboard, RC car, bike, BMW), and that’s all they can talk about, play with, or relate their entire lifecycle back to. Even if it’s a second-hand, duct tape and spit job to make it run, it makes their hearts glimmer. On their forthcoming album, operatic metal quintet, CalatrilloZ, are this kid.
With a first major release poised for a cannon shot round the world, the Londoners have utter commitment to the circus persona they have crafted. Unfortunately, here, right out of the gate, is where the first alarm begins to ring. CalatrilloZ could easily have had a by-the-numbers checklist for making theatric metal in hand while they were building this record. Luckily, the first item required, a vocalist with a gothic cathedral organ of pipes, is skillfully delivered.
Zahyin is the centerpiece of this album without question. He’s prominently out in front of the instruments wailing and belting and trapezing across each of the six songs. His lyrics are heartfelt and grand, but they are melodramatic and overwrought, as if he were reaching back to the past poets and saying, “But wait up guys, I’m in the club too! The contract I signed says I am.” He is the microcosm of the entire affair. It’s all correct on paper and in theory, but the result leaves the listener with just a heap of recycled potential energy.
Next up is the rhythm section and each of the other four members has the over the top personas, make up, and names like Vargovar to keep pace with their flag bearing front man. (All except drummer “Jimmy Sticks”…he missed the epic name train.) The guitars, bass, and drums are all largely forgettable, up the middle "metal" performances, but serve their purpose of backing up Zahyin well enough.
No self-respecting checklist would leave out the obligatory orchestral instrumentation, which for most of the album, is present, adding the necessary mystique and atmosphere needed for the genre. The sounds feel a bit cheap though, more like a MIDI parade. Although, this may have ended up being more about budgeting than anything else, so for what they are, the backing tracks could much more egregious.
Unfortunately though, the strings and horns, etc. are not what can save the Psalms of Zahyin. The songs themselves just have to be killers at their cores, and that does not show up here in any significant way. The ideas strive to be epic, to be grand, to be enveloping, but for now, these are merely goals to be executed, chalk board inspiration speeches that run short.
CalatrilloZ should fear not though. They have all the right elements, all the passion to achieve those aforementioned goals, but they need to come out from the safe zone this genre has and the pigeon holes its execution often brings. The songs themselves require more extremity and more variety because the tonalities, tempos, and dynamics are relatively one-dimensional and worse, predictable.
Shaking the listener up instead of letting them drift off into “vastness,” as well as shaking themselves up a bit too, ought to be priority number one for CalatrilloZ. New influences might include: Devin Townsend, Stolen Babies, or Karnivool, and while there, experiments with peppering in a little dissonance should be had.
Of course, not everything new has to be a complete reinvention, but you wouldn’t replace your old circus tent full of holes with another circus tent full of holes and then expect that the subsequent show would go more smoothly just because the tent is new. Or would you? This album sure does carry that kind of conviction though, but hopefully next time, the, “…troupe of wanderers,” will have a more well rounded set of toys to play with.
