Opal: No Room For Mediocrity by Mark Daigle – Time Out Istanbul (English version).
On a recent Saturday evening I found myself at Bronx suffering through another set of impassioned, sensitive emo-covers. Sensitivity is alright, I guess, but I'd prefer it coming from a cop, judge, or mother-in-law. I don't need it pleading from rock band. Roy Orbison owns 'that' ticket, and no one's going to take it from his deceased hand, ever. I was ready to bail when the next band, Opal, kicked in and, to load this sentence with one more metaphor, I was hooked. These guys – Akin Calap (vocals and guitar), Ata Erdem Sim--ek (drums) and Gokhan Olke (bass) – offered just what I had been looking for in this town: original, guitarcentric rock n' roll without a trace of fake affectation. Instead of delivering a fast food derived menu of spice-less genre college rock, Opal served a home cooked, steamy brew that set well and left a savored aftertaste. I've always had a rather mystical appreciation of 3-piece outfits. A good 3-piece has no room for mediocrity. Each band member acts as both support and soloist. While Akin obviously takes the role of frontman, his support are a show unto themselves. Although sharing little in common stylistically, Opal, like The Minutemen, The Meat Puppets, The White Stripes and Hüsker Dü, function as a complete band – a musical engine relying on its members for the necessary fuel – and it burns. No one lives in a bubble, especially not a musician. Unlike many bands, who wear and play their influences to the point of vanquishing any individuality, Gökhan, Akin an Ata are a bit more circumspect about what they've been annoying neighbors with on their living room stereos. .. listening, one can hear audio ghosts emulating 1990's downtown New York, early 80's Liverpool and a kick of their present hometown, Istanbul. Opal offer solid riffs, melodicism (in a non-embarrasing way) and a trace of experimentation. My Dave Matthews-loving neighbors would have bitched, but I'd have enjoyed listening to these guys's mix tapes through the walls of my flat. Akin opened the set with a lovely guitar piece reminding me of Will Sergent's work in Echo And The Bunnymen. The song, 'Zamir' soon busted off the stage with a sound that would have made Ian Curtis reconsider his knot tying technique. You'll question the wisdom of an early demise when the sum total of running the streets is the addition of amps, a stage, and honest attitude. Music this good makes you forget about having to get up early the next morning and the lousy job that awaits you. Opal understands that dynamics serve to both envelope a song and keep an audience's interest intact. The self-titled tune 'Opal' jumps off the gun with a linethat would be comfortable on the Sonic Youth classic Daydream Nation – melancholy and promising. Whereas the "Sonics" genuflect vocals to guitar freakouts, Opal has a ringer with Akin's voice. Holy Shit! What a set of pipes this guy has. He has the range and smart to know how to use it as a device to bring the song to peaks and the occasional precipice (there are no valleys with these guys). While Ata keeps the time interesting, Akin and Gokhan slither along his trail, edging the song to a clearing but keeping it mysterious, edgy. Most bands forget that drama is feeling coupled with smarts and a bit of friction. Opal do 5 minute plays with instruments taking the place of actors. If you are smart enough to go see Opal after reading this, make sure you stay for (or request) a performance of 'Iris'. Without making an obvious effort, Akin manages to play guitar lines that mix both eastern and western suggestions into a song that ultimately shakes the walls down- a good way to end a set and make the landlord nervous mess. All too offen bands hide behind set listes of petrifying "hits" (I heard a Turkish band doing The Doobie brothers and begged the young Frenchman next to me to slash my throat with his carafe of white wine lest I light my lighter in the air) Opal, along wi--th many others in town, make their own way with their own music – no room to hide and no room for…well, you've read the title.