Thursday, May 4, 2017
Desperadoz - Call of the Wild (2017)
Now, to be fair, I think these Germans at least touch upon that Western appeal superficially, as much of their discography feels like you're about to pop in your Silverado or Young Guns DVD, a clear lineage from the sort of big, bright, burly 80s entertainment some of us grew up on, along with Alex Kraft and company. Plenty of bluesy acoustic guitar sequences. Cliche-ridden lyrics that speak to you of the hard life on horseback. The rather obvious saloon fonts used for the rather effortless cover artwork. A solid, atmospheric intro piece that feels exactly like you're strolling into a town alongside some tumbleweeds... whistling, guns being cocked, and a natural swagger to it that simply belongs to this thematic genre. They even manage to draft a couple semi-heavy power/speed licks circa their German heritage mixed with a little late 80s Zakk Wylde-driven Ozzy ("Hell & Back"). Sadly, this level of energy is the exception rather than the rule, and most of the writing is cemented in safe, run of the mill hard rock rhythms that generate little more vitriol than Skid Row; both the riffs and the vocals, with some grooves, some slide guitars layered in there, and not a lot of surprises.
That doesn't make it bad, per se, and 80s MTV purists might revel in how it takes that throwback sound and mixes in a heavier dose of Western, but this and most of its predecessors just don't seem to have a lot of ambition, and I come away feeling as if it was just too snug and comfortable. It's not because Desperadoz bite off any particular band too much...no, even Alex's vocals mirror a little bit of Sebastian Bach attitude, only with a lower range edge akin to Peavy Wagner of Rage, a higher melodic sustain reminiscent of The Cult's Ian Astbury, and some harmonies that remind me of the mid or slow paced hits from the Alice in Chains lexicon. The drums and bass sound bright and clear, and the riffs do possess a degree of variation to round out the album from sounding too samey. The country ballad material ("All the Long Way Home") is a bit tacky, but fits the concept, and the instrumental pieces here actually spin a competent cinematic narrative which I'm sure several directors of 80s and 90s flicks would have loved in their soundtracks.
The thing is, I don't really want Silverado or Three Amigos! in hard rock form. I want The Good, the Bad & the Ugly, or Once Upon a Time in the West, set to some tunes that can thunder across the plains like a desperate gunman and his steed on the run from some pissed off outlaws. Not prim, proper, stadium anthems, but a gritty and grimy orchestra of bullets and knives. Not just 'one shot for the road', but stinking drunk and pissing itself with fear and tension. Call of the Wild has a modicum of spit and fire by hard rock standards, but it just doesn't take enough chances, and ends up with their last couple efforts as an example of good production standards and professionalism without the extra oomph that surpasses an average listen. Plenty of qualities, and thematic qualifications, but every time it spits a little tobacco, it feels like a janitor rushes in to clean it up all too conveniently. Far from a complete bust, but I feel like I'd enjoy these Desperadoz better if they were more pissed and trigger happy.
Verdict: Indifference [6/10]