The Velvet Hands: Caller. E.P. Review.

Liverpool Sound and Vision Rating 8.5/10

Beware the Caller who knocks with hands unwashed and that are wrapped in closed fists, and shake the hand of those with velvet gloves and the willingness to open your eyes and mind; it could be seen as a prejudice to admit but keeping your hands from the dirt and the damage is the cornerstone of having a soul that can just as innocent and willing to listen to a new point of view, a sound that is as unexpected as that which raps on the door at midnight holding champagne in their velvet gloves.

Leading in from their single, I Don’t Care, The Velvet Hands unleash their four track E.P., Caller, with tremendous care and breathless attention, and with generous guitar and a lyrical pulse that borders on poetic, but one that is also primal, as if the mind of Jack Kerouac had been spliced with the secretive artist Banksy, one that perhaps might catch those who are unaware of the seismic undercurrent of rock that Cornwall holds in its deep and heavy heart.

It is in the beauty and the rage, the cross between punk freedom and rock anarchy that Toby Mitchell, Dan Able, Louis Mitchell, and John Logan wear with the pride of self that is captured in the tracks I Don’t Care, Caller, I’ll Be Free, 3 AM, and on the physical release, a special fifth song, the cover of Serge Gainsbourg’s Chick Habit; and that sense of pride is not misplaced, it is an E.P. that twist and turns as it steers its way through the maze of modern day thinking and close call dynamics.

For some Cornwall is an afterthought, a wild and desolate place of myths and legends beyond The Tamar and where even the 21st Century gives way to the image of Jamica Inn as anything but a gothic adventure; and yet as anyone with Cornish blood coursing through their veins will attest, never underestimate the voice draped in velvet, for it hides a rising tide of heated discourse that requires hearing.

Following on from the superb Sucker Punch album released in 2023, Caller sends the type of thrilling chill up the spine of those willing to discover new blood and scintillating pleasure.

Ian D. Hall