PressCallow isn’t afraid of slow tempos, or of letting a song steep in cymbal wash or droning guitar before bursting into an assault of harmonies and murky, haunting chords. At times reminiscent of Timber Timbre, their music is the sound of nightfall, of pitch-black impenetrable woods, or mournful cries from distant mountaintops.
— The Bay Bridged |
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What punk rock would have been had it evolved from The Velvet Underground’s airy slowness rather than their minimalism. — SLUG Magazine
Honest, simple, and rich.
— Synthesis Weekly |
Part magical and part ominous foreboding. — Mad Mackerel
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Beautiful, minimalistic slowcore.
— SLUG Magazine |
THE BLEAKNESS AT THE EDGES OF “STRANGE” WILL LINGER LONG AFTER THE TRACK FADES AWAY. SO TOO WILL THE HONESTY OF THIS GUITAR-AND-DRUMS JOURNEY INTO THE DARK.
— SONG OF THE DAY, KDHX
— SONG OF THE DAY, KDHX
Unabashed, relentless and unapologetic, Callow weaves stories about unfortunate life struggles through a lens that is both smoky and ethereal.
— Delusions of Adequacy |
A strange triad of rock, folk and swampy ambiences. A nocturnal and poetic ritual out in the open.
— Inanna Naked |
CALLOW’S INSTRUMENTATION IS SPARSE, WITH CHORDS THAT RING OUT ON THE PIANO AND GUITAR-PICKING PATTERNS THAT WALK IN SINGLE FILE, CULMINATING IN DARKLY BEAUTIFUL COMPOSITIONS.
— SLUG Magazine
— SLUG Magazine
SOME GROOVY-SOUNDING ROCK MUSIC WHICH HAS THAT LATE 60’S FEEL TO IT.
— WOODBANGERS NETWORK |
Haunting, gritty and filled with ghostly vocal harmonies, perfect for cranking up during a solo
road trip through the desert. — SLC Weekly |
In just over 100 seconds of perfectly judged vocal harmonies and gently subdued instrumentation, the San Francisco duo have managed to create a sweetly sombre classic of pensive restraint and yearning melancholy that leaves palpable echoes hanging in the air long after the song has finished. [Philosophy] is a song to wallow in – to immerse yourself in.
— Mad Mackerel
— Mad Mackerel
A great guitar tone built of longing and disappointment... with the counterpoint of Knowles’ voice, they combine to rail against the darkness, emptiness of the great open spaces and solitude of the road. At times, his guitar thunders above her drums—at other moments, her keyboards add an orchestral atmosphere. Occasionally, the sound is like the ebb and flow of the tide—perhaps that water on the horizon is a desert mirage? They are actually anything but emotionally callow. It’s really about his voice and what he is saying with it, which is considerable.
— Brian Staker, Slug Magazine
— Brian Staker, Slug Magazine