I’m in the Church continues to carve out his particular individualistic escapism, trying to show those disbelieving present that there is life after Bloc Party, with his sixth solo album and the natural sequel to his previous work, “The Waves pt.1” (Kola, 21). Unlike it, more introspective and undoubtedly marked by the pandemic context in which it was formulated, “The Flames pt. 2” (Kola, 21) blends in with the socio-affective unsealing experienced in the last year and allows us to witness the more collective side of its creator, through a romantic and acid perspective in equal parts.
Little requires the good of Call to carry out his mission: a guitar, a drum machine and his completely recognizable voice. Strategy that, precisely because of that minimalist rawness in the resources, will inevitably remind us of the first years of activity of his mother band, where he still had some sense and grace to emulate those certain hints with a flavor of garage revival and two thousand year old (“Reckless”). The scarce spark will, instead, be in seeing the artist from Liverpool taking out his narrative skills to bring us closer to his perspective and understanding of this New Normality that surrounds us, empathizing with that collective social awkwardness that in March 2020 we all began to develop without being still aware of it. We see Kele openly begging for some warmth for a damaged heart crawling on dating apps in search of an immediate but meaningful connection (“Can you fix a problem that you did not make? Can you mend a heart that you did not break?”sing in “Someone To Make Me Laugh”), a sign of the times and of that manifest need to be queer to make our portability from indoor to outdoor a reality (“I’m thinking about stopping him the next time we pass, asking for the time to see if there are sparks”we see him springing into action in “I’m In Love With An Outline”).
fleeting crushes aside, Call throughout its tracks represents a remarkable number of emotional ups and downs ranging from the purest summer euphoria and cancaneante (“True Love Knows No Death”) to the most captivating instrumental melancholy (“The Colour of Dying Flame”). Although unfortunately we will see how the marker runs out of ink on the doors of themes that painted very well (“No Risk No Reward”), Call He does not let us leave empty-handed and offers us at least one of those songs that invite us to burn shoes on the dance floor, with a dance-rock bass line and agitated rhymes (“Vandal”). Once again, one more proof of this disconcerting accommodation to this new scenario that is very similar to the previous one, but no.
With samples of a latent experimentalist vision that still hasn’t quite found its place among impossible referents and primary colors that fall short, Call Evidence from an ambition of doubtful comprehension of his versatility to create totally diverse and familiar shots for the average listener.