Dan Treacy of the TV Personalities told a magazine that, “If the word cult ever described a band then it’s The Callas.” Given that his own band are one of the ultimate British cult groups, that’s saying something. The TV Personalities reference is apt, for The Callas have supported them and have a certain amount of the same shambolic charm, as well as the same art-world aspirations. The Callas’s Ionas brothers, Aris and Lakis, are involved in organising exhibitions of their artwork and early editions of the album arrive decorated with their personalised handiwork. When they get together with drummer/keyboard player/vocalist Annita Callasette, however, music is the focus. The Callas do their thing and expect their small cadre of supporters to follow. A cult indeed, then.
There is nothing exactly new on their debut but it’s one of those albums where, whenever you’re about to lose interest, they pull you back in with a new flavour or a twisty, buzzing synth line. Thus it mostly escapes easy categorisation. Parts of it sound like the lively London scene of half a decade back that produced The Klaxons and New Young Pony Club – “new rave” as it was briefly known - but The Callas don’t do euphoria and big upbeat tunes. Instead they seem to have supped on early Killing Joke, 1980s Creation Records, The Fall and Seventies Brit punk. The latter is particularly pertinent on songs such as “Call Meet Fuck Kill” and “When I’m Drunk” where their synthesisers play definite second fiddle to raucous crude chorus-making.
The Callas are suitably enigmatic, make their own oddball videos, and mix in artsy hipster circles – which, for better or worse, is half the game in London’s musical whirl – and their music is deadpan, snappy and lo-fi. Objekt feels like a band testing the water, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they returned with something that turned a few more heads.
Watch the somewhat bizarre video for "The Girl and the Gun"
