The Callous Daoboys : I Don’t Want to See You in Heaven
I saw a comment recently that claimed The Callous Daoboys were “Drama Club Dillinger.” I have to agree, while not necessarily scoffing at that fact. It’s hard to remember that Dillinger Escape Plan, while incendiary pioneers that wrecked every stage they ever played on, must have bloody well had fun doing it. None were as technically jazz-influenced or feral in their approach, scaring anyone that didn’t know Ben Weinman’s tongue was lodged in his cheek most of the whole time. Carson Pace and his theatrical crew have always felt like the next torchbearers in this dynasty, not just for their all-over-the-place poppy math-metal, nor their ability to make memorable songs out of riff salads, but in their self awareness for being nerdy, verbose, tricksy and damn enjoyable for anyone willing to just let loose at little. That’s a hard thing to find in heavy music, where crowds probably do scoff when fans e-tag “Callous Daoboys” anywhere they can on the internet. If you too think that practice has somehow gotten funnier over time, you’re in the right place for I Don’t Want to See You in Heaven.
Breakout record Celebrity Therapist arrived like a thunder crack to any listener that chanced across a band both less serious and more innovative than most. Sure, mathcore stalwarts like Rolo Tomassi are still blazingly great, and Frontierer more savage, but the Daoboys had warped hits in their locker like “Star Baby.” Plus nowadays, the only logical way forward is to have breakdowns that take the piss out of breakdowns (post-mathcore?), and they gave you that too. Then, with the EP God Smiles Upon the Callous Daoboys, they channeled the sound of noughties emo/pop-punk bands baffled by their mainstream success who created neon and black-clad armies in high schools everywhere. That’s a moment in time calling to be retrofitted by this modern troupe who swerve mainstream accessibility into tracks shrieking with panic chords and some Sonny Moore dubstep.
Luckily, we get served all that and a whole lot more of god-knows-what all over I Don’t Want to See You in Heaven—billed from its opener as a forgotten artifact mused upon in a “Museum of Failure” a few hundred years from now. So, normal service resumed Daoboys-style; laughing at themselves when the end product is something that could sit comfortably on a glorious plinth. “Schizophrenia Legacy” arrives with instant whiplash for these exhibit visitors, with string bends, sax-clad lounge music and death growls that have no right to reside together. There’s a song called “Tears on Lambo Leather” that swerves expectations by not actually being their first trap banger; instead one of their gnarliest ever presentations, complete with a drum and bass bit acting as a breather.
Pace, in fact, manages to convey honest self-reflections across the board, even when inhabiting the mind of a lovelorn caught fish in the incredible chorus on “Two-Headed Trout,” wrestling in sincere lyrics alongside stuff like “Benadryl dick”. Indeed, as he and the band do swim upstream, there’s dizzying eddies fusing Justified-era Justin acoustic strums with Letlive. (“Lemon”), pop culture references, Amber Christman’s violin heralding a neo-soul workout in a rainforest on “Body Horror for Birds,” panpipes and, more in true mathcore fashion, a building 12-minute closer. While that’s a crash course on its own, “Distracted by The Mona Lisa” gets to the point as the most rib-tickling aughts emo throwback this decade. The cavalcade of far-flung ideas is the point, methodically colliding them together is the make-or-break. This smashes it nine times out of ten, all without diminishing the band’s more grounded throughline about life in their late 20s.
The Daoboys’ very existence made it a foregone conclusion that this would not be a straightforward or expected release. Aren’t we glad? Really, indulgent conceptual AmDram heaviness should be agonizing, but don’t the Daoboys know it; playing into the fact with a smirk, which you absolutely can do when you make one of the most candid, catchy, confounding sort-of-emo-adjacent record this side of From Under the Cork Tree. So much so it makes Pace’s anti-jester stance of “I’m not a fool for you, I’m not a fool for anyone at all” seem genuinely serious after all.
Label: MNRK Heavy
Year: 2025
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The Callous Daoboys : I Don’t Want to See You in Heaven
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