On the opening strum, frontman Laurent Chavannes invites us into a highly personal headspace, one marked by fear and depression and that kind of aching desperation that anyone who's ever felt like they're not sure how long they can hold it together will instantly identify with. "Call a Doctor" doesn't simply talk about pain, it feels pain, lives in pain, and dares to shout it out loud. What starts as a fragile acoustic ballad, quiet, almost trembling, gradually escalates into an outright emotional detonation. Then the drums start roaring, the guitars crash and Chavannes' unique vocals build toward release. It's not just a song, it's a breakdown, a confession, and finally, a release.
The genius of "Call a Doctor" is that such openness here is matched with the very might of the band's instrumental force. It's a thoughtful edge that reverberates with the glory days of bands like Taking Back Sunday and Brand New, but Moving In Slow never falls into the trap of sounding like they're playing catch-up. It's reviving the essence of that era, but this time with renewed earnestness and a unique sense of purpose.
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