There’s something strange, almost uncanny, about how Call Me Amour are in the process of breaking out. It’s the way that things accumulate, the pinprick faults in their visage that crumble the instant they’re bothered. Their dark electro-rock pitch might intrigue at first, until you realise it’s effectively a coat of lacquer over the Britrock template that’s gone mostly unchanged since more than a decade ago. Likewise, Harry Radford can be a good singer, but he’s pulling from the same repertoire as his times in the horribly-aged Yashin and his flopped pop solo outing. That’s all while acknowledging that Call Me Amour’s debut EP Revolution was pretty promising.
Alongside that promise, though, was always the big, pulsating asterisk of the need for continued growth. There was never the illusion of Call Me Amour emerging fully formed; doing some more was an obvious necessity. And it’s only when they haven’t made good on that where the consequences really rear their malformed yet deeply disengaging head. So yeah, Call Me Amour’s self-titled EP isn’t a step forward for them. It’s not really a step anywhere, which might be the most unfortunate outcome possible. A swing and a miss could’ve said something about their intent, or at least left the desire to try on the table. Sticking largely where they are and trying to weather impending stagnation, however, doesn’t do much of anything.
The root cause of that might be the feel of Call Me Amour in general, and the limitations that are exposed under much harsher light here. There’s the baked-in impression that they see themselves as grand and without boundaries, yet there’s no way that anyone even the tiniest bit versed in wider musical fields could believe that. Strip back the veneers (which isn’t difficult when the electronic assistance has been greatly reduced since their debut) and you’ll find that Call Me Amour’s brand of Britrock is significantly stock. The feel is of an outdated strain, pre-metamorphosis into something more diverse, when boilerplate alt-rock sounded serviceable enough to be deemed ‘real’ rock without alienating itself from daytime radio playlists. It’s no wonder that Bloom is the clear high, then, not just for an inexplicable passage from Bleed From Within’s Scott Kennedy, but for the breakdown around him warped and juddered by its production. You almost start to believe for a fleeting second that, with a bit of application, Call Me Amour could still be casting glances to something more adventurous.
Then you snap back to reality and oh…there goes Mallory…
Not only does Mikey Chapman take over the second half of Good Day (to where his are the only vocals actually audible), but the whole thing is indistinguishable from something that Mallory Knox would’ve released in 2013. A situation like this is the clearest portrayal of a lack of integrity in Call Me Amour’s sound. For one, the song has that throwaway feel that a lot of early-2010s Britrock outside of the ubiquitous singles had. For another…how does this represent where Call Me Amour are supposed to be?! Anything darker or more nocturnal is phased out entirely for a Britrock framework sandblasted of personality, almost intentionally considering how ineffectual Radford is on it. It’s the EP’s nadir, for sure, especially for how its influence seems to bleed over and coat most of this release.
It’s really disheartening to see how easy Call Me Amour can just fold like that, with the barest form of resistance to help themselves out. Even if they weren’t extraordinarily creative from the jump, there’s no sense in throwing out most of their best ideas after the first go-around. Comparing the two EPs, there’s no front upon which this one is better (sans a cleanliness of surface which, even then, was utilised to better effect before). For crying out loud—the Lose Yourself reference before was more creative use of resources than anything even brushing against Call Me Amour! The closest they get to breaking lockstep is Where’s The Chemistry’s namedrop of Helen Keller at the end of its big building bridge, apropos of…dunno, sensory deprivation? Beyond that, there isn’t much of interest to hold onto. At least Radford sells it well enough when he’s in his comfortable, powerful mid-range, and staying away from close, breathy ‘intimacy’ or screams that could clearly use a tuning up on Happy Hell.
What disappoints the most is how none of this is at all surprising. The furthest that Call Me Amour ever indicated that they were capable of going was as a fine inclusion to their scene, or a buttress for the true forerunners. And when you consider the world-or-nothing mentality imbibed by every new act as a rule, humble standings like that just won’t fly. So, in the tradition of its frontman’s lineage of acts that have bottomed out rather quickly, Call Me Amour’s slide has begun in earnest. Not so much that they can’t save themselves, but let’s be honest—it would take a Herculean effort beyond the capacity of The Guy From Yashin to get to a suitable level. Otherwise, fast-tracking themselves to a forgone conclusion was never a wholly inconceivable outcome.
For fans of: Mallory Knox, Normandie, Madina Lake
‘Call Me Amour’ by Call Me Amour is released on 7th February on Circular Wave Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall
