It begins with gorgeously echoing harmonica. Vocals are introduced soon after and are seemingly produced by shouting through a prison-yard loudspeaker strapped to the roof of a car. When the harmonica returns you’ve been hit by the full sound and effect of Calliope. The force is much closer to that of a freight train than a 1970s Chicago patrol car driven by Dan Aykroyd. With harmonica highlights found throughout the remainder of the self titled album from Calliope, Elwood is still likely to approve.
As a debut, the LP surpasses expectations — especially for that of an independent artist. Given the throwback genre the band emulates and breathes, crisp corners may not be the goal and recording the album in a northern Wisconsin cabin surely aids in that pursuit. Assistance from producer Mike Hoffmann, however, enhances the audible flavor and over dubs in his Milwaukee studio make for an easy listening experience.
If you can’t guess from the early reference to their home town city by name, this is a Milwaukee band through and through. From album opener “Miller City Blues” (video) to early hit “Blue Ribbon Boogie,” the Brew City gets a fair share of recognition right off the bat. And while one band member smartly attributed “Blue Ribbon Boogie” to a song ideal for a Led Zeppelin album, the vocals of the album suggest a decidedly different artist, albeit from an overlapping era. The very next track, “Penitent Man,” is one of many that seem choreographed by Jim Morrison himself. In theme, poetic quality, delivery and even voice, his legacy is alive and well all these decades later.
Once you settle into the true aura of the throwback feel, there are few tracks that break the steady haze of yesteryear. The eleventh track is definitely one of those few; more on that in a bit. Artistically, Calliope is at home in the middle of the LP. “Rising Water” and “Woodland Stomp” mark this band as one to keep an eye on in the MKE music scene. Back to back, the two songs illustrate the capable spectrum and attainable potential of this group. Tempo shifts, exaggerated rests, lengthy breakdowns, and impressive solos suggest that the boundaries of classic rock giants from long ago bind neither the imagination nor the talent of this quartet. Modernized guitar on top of a September storm recorded from the porch of the cabin in the aptly titled “Rising Water” reveal more to Calliope than big hair, throaty yells, whiskey-inspired babble and excessive denim. Just to be entirely clear, those elements are my biggest draw to the band and I hope they remain unchanged, just as I hope the feel of this group always nudges me to the fridge.
Best at generating this mental thirst, “Woodland Stomp” consistently feels like a party. Perhaps calmed by the Minocqua air surrounding the cabin recording session or quite possibly fueled by the copious amounts of Korbel and cheap suds the Wisconsin North has to offer, the “Stomp” is my favorite of the dark ragers. Turn that one on, tap your foot for roughly two and a half minutes, and wait for the beat to pause and then return. Then try to convince me you don’t need to go on a beer run as the harmonica and twang fall nicely over the timely drums.
Now back to “Mine All Mine,” the eleventh and penultimate song of the album. This one jumps out at you like a mean clown in a house of mirrors. The band shares its name with the steam-powered musical instrument of circus fame and “Mine All Mine” has a similar penchant for supplying unwavering and un-adjustable volume. Best played loud — check that, blasted — this track matches the terrific organ heard throughout the 12-track debut with the best display of lyrics and controlled yelling amongst the dozen. Quite the impressive entrance from our Milwaukee cousins.
Calliope