There is a grim allure in the strange beauty of stillness, silence, and loss. So Caligula’s Horse explain the title of their newest studio album, Charcoal Grace. The title describes the Aussie outfit’s music: gritty, heavy, visceral metal; and at other times, soaring, refined, affecting acoustic rock. Through the four-part title track suite and brilliant opening and closing songs, Caligula’s Horse examine life after death – the pandemic, specifically, but broadly through themes like abuse and innocence – and move the listener toward a more hopeful future.
With five previous albums under their belt, Caligula’s Horse know how to open their sixth. The album’s first song and second single, “The World Breathes With Me”, is ten minutes long, yet feels like half that time. Similar musical ideas open and close the song, and they serve as perfect bookends to the song that gives a thematic overview. “Golem”, the second track, is the heaviest one on the album – at least, musically speaking; “Charcoal Grace IV: Give Me Hell” is the weightiest track, with its explicit themes of child and religious abuse. The band have never shied away from tough conversations, and that’s where they write most brilliantly. Like many progressive bands, Caligula’s Horse tell powerful stories and delve into meaningful ideas through their lyrics, but what sets this Aussie band apart is their melodic perfection.
The sung melodies are thanks to powerhouse vocalist and songwriter Jim Grey, who soars and roars with equal ease. The other half of the face of the band is guitarist, musical director, and songwriter Sam Vallen, whose melodic guitar lines and blistering solos are unforgettable. Providing the impenetrable foundation for Grey and Vallen are the rhythm masters: Josh Griffin on the kit and Dale Prinsse on bass. These two are some of the tightest in the business, and as progressive rock/metal musicians from the 2010s, when djent reigned, their prowess on tracks like “Mute” shines.
“The title describes the Aussie outfit’s music: gritty, heavy, visceral metal; and at other times, soaring, refined, affecting acoustic rock.”
Like the musical chops on the album, the arrangement of Charcoal Grace is tight. After the first two tracks, the suite opens up and pulls the listener in seamlessly. It wraps up after a little over twenty minutes. The listener is left with a need for closure, which side C gives: Although it is another twenty minutes, each song flows by and drops off the listener at the 1:05:00 mark feeling satisfied. The title suite needs its introduction, time to unfold, and some time for the listener to decompress. It’s a long album, but each song has a purpose and a place.
Fans of Caligula’s Horse will welcome Charcoal Grace into the band’s canon with open arms. Listeners who have not connected previously with the band’s work will probably not find anything has changed for them with this album, unless they find it in the thematic material. Caligula’s Horse do not experiment too much with their sound, nor do they push the boundaries of their musical ecosystem. They’ve found their sound and they stick to it. It’s a good formula, but a formula it is: opinions and mileage on their music may vary.
From the weighty depths of “Golem” and “IV: Give Me Hell” to the peace of “III: Vigil” and the serenity of “Sails”, Caligula’s Horse once again deliver a dynamic album. It is not easy to take a global pandemic, personal introspection, abuse, and turn them into an engaging hour-long album. Charcoal Grace is just that: a moving and challenging examination of life in the twenty-first century.