Romeo – ‘Déjà vu Letters’

(Street Symphonies Records)

There’s something admirable about a band that knows exactly what decade it wishes it were living in. Romeo’s Deja Vu Letters is an album that wears its influences proudly, perhaps a little too proudly at times, drawing heavily from the glam rock excesses, hard rock swagger, and late-night neon melancholy of the late seventies and early eighties. It’s a record filled with big guitars, larger-than-life attitudes, and a persistent desire to convince the listener that rock and roll never really left town.

The good news is that, musically, Romeo largely succeeds. Andrea Zanolli’s guitar work throughout Deja Vu Letters is consistently enjoyable, balancing flashy leads with sturdy rhythm playing that keeps the album moving at a respectable pace. There’s enough crunch in the riffs to satisfy hard rock fans, but also enough melodic instinct to prevent the whole thing from descending into a wall of indistinct noise. The band clearly understands the mechanics of classic rock songwriting, and the arrangements often feel thoughtfully constructed rather than thrown together.

What stands out most is the album’s atmosphere. There’s a distinctly European flavour running through the record, one that occasionally recalls the more theatrical side of glam while still maintaining a rough-edged barroom energy. The production avoids many modern rock clichés, opting instead for a warmer, slightly vintage approach that suits the material. The guitars sound like guitars. The drums sound like drums. That may seem like faint praise, but in an era where many rock records are polished to within an inch of their lives, there’s something refreshing about hearing a band embrace a more organic sound.

Unfortunately, the album’s biggest weakness is also its most unavoidable one: the vocals.

Now, I’m aware that glam and hard rock have never been genres built around technical perfection. Some of the greatest frontmen in rock history succeeded because of personality rather than precision. The problem here is that Max Colliva’s vocal performances often feel caught somewhere in between. There’s certainly enthusiasm, and nobody could accuse him of holding back, but the delivery frequently struggles to match the quality of the instrumental backing.

At various points throughout the album, the vocals come across as strained, overly theatrical, or simply lacking the melodic confidence needed to elevate the material. Rather than serving as the focal point, they often become an obstacle the songs have to work around. Several moments that should feel triumphant instead feel slightly awkward, as though the band and vocalist are operating on different wavelengths.

That’s particularly frustrating because the musicianship deserves better. Time and again, the guitars establish strong foundations, the rhythm section locks into a convincing groove, and the songs begin building genuine momentum. Then the vocals enter and the energy dips. Not catastrophically, but enough to prevent many of these tracks from reaching their full potential.

Even so, there’s enough quality elsewhere to keep the album engaging. Romeo clearly understands how to write memorable hooks, and the record avoids the common mistake of overstaying its welcome. The pacing is generally solid, with enough variation in mood and tempo to maintain interest from beginning to end. While the songwriting doesn’t reinvent anything, it demonstrates a genuine affection for the traditions of glam and hard rock.

The lyrics occasionally wander into familiar territory, dealing with romance, self-reflection, excess, and personal frustration. Nothing here is likely to be mistaken for poetry, but that’s hardly unusual within the genre. What matters more is whether the songs communicate a sense of conviction, and for the most part they do. There’s a sincerity to Romeo’s approach that helps compensate for some of the album’s shortcomings.

One area where Deja Vu Letters deserves credit is its refusal to chase contemporary trends. There are no obvious attempts to incorporate fashionable pop elements or modern production gimmicks. Romeo seems content to make the kind of record they genuinely want to make, regardless of whether it aligns with current tastes. That stubbornness can be both a strength and a limitation, but it at least gives the album a clear identity.

The downside is that listeners expecting innovation will likely come away disappointed. Much of Deja Vu Letters feels familiar, sometimes to the point of predictability. The album rarely surprises the listener, and there are moments where individual ideas seem borrowed from a well-worn classic rock playbook. Whether that’s a problem will largely depend on how much affection one has for the styles Romeo is celebrating.

Opener ‘Frankfurt Lights’ sets the tone nicely with a confident glam-rock strut and some appealing guitar work. There's a sense of atmosphere here that suggests late-night city streets and faded neon signs. Unfortunately, the vocals arrive and immediately expose one of the album's recurring weaknesses. Still, as an introduction, it does the job.

‘Italian Guy’ is one of the more entertaining cuts on the record, largely because the band leans into its theatrical tendencies. The groove is solid, and the guitars carry much of the song's charm. The vocal performance feels a little forced, but the personality of the track helps compensate.

‘True Confessions’ is a more reflective number that attempts to add emotional weight to the album. The arrangement is strong enough, but the vocals struggle to sell the sentiment. There's a decent song buried in here, though it never quite reaches the heights it seems to be aiming for.

‘Romeo (A Loyal Borderline)’ embraces the band's identity wholeheartedly. Musically, it's one of the album's stronger moments, combining catchy hooks with a healthy dose of classic hard-rock swagger. The chorus sticks around longer than most, even if the vocal delivery remains an acquired taste.

‘Soul Staller’ is a respectable rocker with some particularly enjoyable guitar parts. The rhythm section deserves credit for keeping everything moving. It's not especially memorable, but it's a pleasant enough listen while it's playing.

‘No More Chances’ feels like one of the more direct and energetic tracks on the record. The band sounds comfortable here, and the vintage production works in its favour. The vocal performance is slightly better integrated than elsewhere, though still far from ideal.

‘I Need To Know’ is one of the album's catchier offerings. There's a strong melodic foundation underneath the rough edges, and the instrumental arrangement does a lot of heavy lifting. Had the vocals been more convincing, this might have been a standout.

‘What's Going On’ is a solid effort that benefits from a slightly different mood. The band shows some welcome restraint, allowing the song room to breathe. It's not groundbreaking, but it adds variety to the running order.

The closing track ‘Decadent Man’ leaves a reasonably positive impression. It captures much of what Romeo does well: vintage rock attitude, competent musicianship, and a clear affection for classic glam influences. Like much of the album, it's enjoyable despite its flaws rather than because of them.

In the end, Deja Vu Letters is a respectable but flawed effort. The instrumental performances are consistently solid, the production captures an appealing vintage rock character, and the band demonstrates a clear understanding of the genres they love. However, the vocal performances remain a persistent issue, preventing the album from fully capitalising on its strongest moments.

There’s enough here to recommend to dedicated fans of glam and traditional hard rock, particularly those who value authenticity over innovation. At the same time, it’s difficult to ignore the feeling that a stronger vocal presence could have transformed this from a decent throwback record into something genuinely memorable.

As it stands, Deja Vu Letters is an enjoyable listen in places, frustrating in others, and ultimately lands somewhere in the middle. Not a disaster, not a triumph, just a reasonably entertaining rock record that occasionally hints at being something more.

6/10

Essential Track – ‘Soul Staller’

Review by Woody