The Vintage Calvinos
“There’s no fillers on this album, certainly in my Top 5 albums of 2017 thus far” – Stevo Music Man
“One of the unexpected delights of the last 12 months” – Mike Melville, Manic Pop Thrills
“One of the most ambitious records of the year” – John Clarkson, Penny Black Music
“A delightfully deranged tour of a marginal demi-monde located some way North-East of the well-trodden path.” – Gus Ironside, Is This Music?
“If you have the ears to appreciate rambling magnificence then The Vintage Calvinos are the band for you.” – Blues Bunny
“The first listen is gold but only an appetizer to the delights and unbridled pleasures which follow” – The Ringmaster Review.
No.1 album of 2017 – John Clarkson, Penny Black Music Editor
No 6 album of 2017 – Is This Music? End of year poll.
No. 6 album of 2017 – Manic Pop Thrills
The Vintage Calvinos are an Aberdeen based amalgam of some of the finest Scottish musicians, summoned by song writer David Baird to participate in the making of ‘An Invitation to Infamy’. Since its inception, others have come on board. From the stirring strings at the start of Prelude through to the mournful church bells at the end of The Beautiful and the Damned, ‘An Invitation to Infamy’ is replete with intriguing arrangements, top drawer musicianship but above all, brilliant melodies. There is such a diverse range of songs and styles that pigeon-holing is an impossible task. Essentially, it is classic song-writing given a contemporary twist. No-one else sounds like the Vintage Calvinos. There are songs about war, incest, God, suicide, love, lust, a saint ‘who died for me the most’, even hanging out with Elvis. You could say all human life is in there. Hyperbole is generally precisely just that but not on this occasion. But let Xavia, one of the backing singers who came on board later in the project, give her account:
“I stepped off the boat on that hot, steamy night in mid July and instantly heard this sound. I didn’t know where it was coming from but I knew I had to check it out. The bars down by the harbour were thick with gypsies and thieves and tattooed bikers and prostitutes but I just kept on walking, following that sound. I’d been listening to Miles, Al Green, Roxy Music, the Rolling Stones, on the boat but this was something else. As I got closer to where this intoxicating musical cocktail was coming from, I looked up. There was this red light, the sort you’d get in a whorehouse and the windows were flung open. I approached the building and above the entranceway were the words ‘The Anatomy Rooms’. I thought ‘well that fits’. I knocked on the door and this spaced out guy with dreadlocks and cut-off jeans emerged, I said ‘I just heard this music. Can I come in?’ He said ‘I’m an artist, not a musician’. He let me in and then promptly disappeared. I crossed the stairwell and began to climb the stairs. The brass was kicking in, there were these haunting strings, a funky rhythm section, a guitar playing this jagged riff which made me think of Steve Cropper but it sounded different and voices whooping out this melody which briefly stopped me in my tracks. I reached the top of the stairs, tried the door handle and walked in. They didn’t miss a beat or seemed to notice my presence. When the music stopped, they turned to me and I said ‘Hi I’m Xavia’ and this guy with a fedora and shades, said ‘We’re the Vintage Calvinos’. Later that evening, we got talking and I then joined the band as a backing singer. The following morning I tore up my return boat ticket and never went home.” X.