Squarcicatrici: s/t (Wallace, 2009)

It's been quite a while since the last post on this blog, and I can't guarantee I will update it frequently after this new post, but I hope I'll be able to. Anyway: I'm back.

Today's album is the debut record of a very odd chamber/jazzcore/world/whateverelse ensemble, lead by the omnipresent musical factotum Jacopo Andreini (L'Enfance Rouge, Vialka, Ronin, Ovo, Roy Paci, Cerberus Shoal, and many more).
The tracks are quite diverse, both in influences and styles. They range from "jazzified" versions of folkloric traditions (from the Balkans, or from Latin America) to unforseen chamber/electro/hip-hop experiments, and even reckless hommages to classical music ("Gorecky"). Even languages keep on shifting. Rhythm and interplay are excellent, strings as harsh sandpaper, and despite the studied roughness of the mix, the overall result is quite refined.

Fans of The Ex and the likes will surely love it, but I bet the album would sound original, daring and irresistable for many more. Remeber checking out Jacopo Andreini's "Bossa Storta" project if you liked this one, and follow the blog http://afoforomusicclub.blogspot.com for more information and associated artists.

Tracklist:

1. Afrotellacci
2. Macedone
3. Sans races
4. Mbizo
5. Pilhar Fraqueza
6. J'ai faim, Jessie!
7. Izgubljen sambetta
8. Garota
9. Afrocina
10. Gorecky
11. Afoforo
12. Invischiata
13. Izgubeljen sam (Vuneny mix)

Credits:

• Jacopo Andreini: guitar, bendir, drums, alto and baritone sax, voice;
• Andrea Caprara: tenor sax; 
• Matteo Bennici: cello, bass, voice;
• Enrico Antonello: trumpet;
• Erwan Naour: voice;
• Thollem McDonas: piano;
• Samuele Venturin: bass, accordion;
• Piero Spitilli: contrabass;
• Simone Tecla: drums;
• Andrea Belfi: drums;
• Valentino Receputi: violin;
• Uliva Velo: violin;
• Martina Chiaraugi: viola

Download (320 kbps)


Similar music on the blog:
Zu: Igneo (Wide Records, 2002)
L'enfance rouge: Trapani - Halq al Waady (Wallace, 2008)

Dusty Kid: A Raver's Diary (Boxer Recordings, 2009)

Remember Robert Miles and his mega-hit "Children"? Though pretty different in style, "A Raver's Diary" kinda reminds of its atmospheres. Dreamy, trippy, and blissful. The sounds are quite close too: crystalline, spacy and glazed with reverb. The rhythmic background is based on techno rather than house, however, and this accounts for the remarkable differences between Miles's so-called "progressive" schemes and the more abstract touch of Dusty Kid. Instead of relying on hyper-catchy lines, the music lures with subtle layerings of minimal elements: very essential percussions, wavering melodies, and some very dark bass figures. Combined in very rich and dynamic structures, these elements enrapture without any need of gross kickdrum clichés. The tracks are everchaning sonic voyages which always keep a distinct dance focus, and show an impressive talent for nontrivial tension climaxes. Many a time the groove kicks in the middle of some celestial minimalist drift, when you would never expect it to start, and the ecstatic atmosphere it creates won't cease to surprise even after many listenings.

Dusty Kid is Paolo Alberto Lodde, from Cagliari (Sardinia). He was 26 when the album - his first one - came out for the renown German label Boxer Recordings.

Tracklist:

1. Here Comes the Techno
2. The Underground Persistence
3. Lynchesque
4. Klin
5. Cowboys
6. Moto Perpetuo
7. The Fugue
8. Pluk
9. America
10. Agaphes
11. Nemur (Walls of Guitars)

Download (320 kbps)


Similar music on the blog:
Touane: Figura (Persona, 2008)
Monomorph: Alternative Fluid (Disturbance, 1994)

Sinenomine: Spartenza (Incipit Records, 2009)

Will Italian music ever have a counterpart for Pentangle and their magical blend of floklore, jazzy fragrances and instrumental panache? Maybe not, but take Pentangle, bring in tango and fado and take out the blues, trade Celtic for Southern Italian and you get an idea of the wonderful "Spartenza".

Based on a perfectly coalescence of very polished, wonderfully orchestrated counterpoints, the album may fail to appeal to the lovers of coarse, impulsive, bristly music. It might find it a bit too clean, even unpersonal and soulless. I don't envy them: "Spartenza" is just one of the most charming, passionate and classy Italian folk albums I've ever chanced into.
Its most striking element is the subtle play of silences, pauses and rarefaction: accordion cirrus clouds, restrained acoustic guitar weavings, delicate cello caresses and double bass rustles never owerwhelm the listener, but lull him gently together with the sensuos recitation of a very mediterranean, but effervescently jazz-tinged female voice.
The album merges centuries, styles and sound-worlds, creating its unique out-of-time cocoon: comfortable, entangling and glowing in velvety crayon colours.

Sinenomine are an acoustic quintet from Rome. This is their first album.

Tracklist:

1. Vulumbrella
2. LeMetamorfosi
3. Perduto
4. Luistania
5. Camminante
6. Soliloquia
7. Solaria
8. A lu bene mie
9. Tango de esperanza
10. Rua de saudade
11. Canto delle lavandaie del vomero
12. Riturnella
13. Spartenza

Download (320 kbps)

Similar albums on the blog:

Calicanto: Venexia (Compagnia Nuove Indye, 1997)

Ritmia: Forse il mare (New Tone, 1986)

Uochi Toki: Libro audio (La Tempesta, 2009)

I'd be tempted to say that "Libro audio"'s by far the best Italian hip-hop ever, but as for every conceivable sentence about the album, the album itself immediately produces an incontrovertible deconstruction of it: the lyrics, the beats, the strain are so cynical and self-conscious that no sentence about it can be uttered without sounding pathetic.

(L'osservatore, l'osservatore 1)
Non mi interessano i contesti sociali da cui i gruppi musicali provengono
A meno che non si tratti di alieni, navi spaziali od antichi guerrieri più o meno medioevali
Ascolto solo i brani che ritengo evocativi
Non ascolto i gruppi solo perché mi dici che sono troppo fighi
Ho bisogno di nutrire sfere esistenziali che tu nemmeno concepisci
Cosa mi importa di sapere che questi e questi gruppi sono stati capostipiti?

(The observer, the observer 1)
I'm not interested in the social contexts of the musical groups
Unless it consists of aliens, starships or ancient - more or less medioeval - warriors
I only listen to the pieces I judge as evocative
I don't listen to bands just because you tell me they're cool
I need to feed emotional spheres you can't even conceive
Why should I care to know these and these bands are progenitors?

(Il nonno, il bisnonno)
Quattro generazioni più tardi io i suoi principi li ho conservati:
1) Quando c'è da pensare alle persone, Che Guevara va nel cestino;
2) Il fucile rivolto contro sé stessi può portare a vivere meglio

(The grandfather, the great-grandfather)
Four generations later, I've mantained his principles:
1) When you've got to think about people, Che Guevara can be thrown in the bin;
2) The rifle, aimed at yourself, can bring a better life.

You must imagine these words delivered in a metallic, conceited spoken-word style which can only marginally be labelled as "rap". It's rather some sort of ultra-wordy hip-hop free verse, throwing away any reverence for rhyme schemes to delve in a phonetic maze of bone-reduced sound/words, consonances, alliterations and dactylic stresses.
The lyrics are caustic, unreasonably literate but blazingly anti-intellectual; the beats are disharmonic, harsh and heavy, unkempt, anti-musical despite their perfect interaction with the words. "Libro audio" has nothing to do with anything else in the hip-hop field: it's individualist, misanthropist, proudly anti-metropolitan - it doesn't represent any subculture, but rather builds up lucidly characters and narrative flows in a prevailingly autobiographical way. It's a woodworm, a sore, a blister.

Uochi Toki are Napo (lyrics and vocals) and Rico (beats), from the surroundings of Alessandria. This is their fourth album.


Tracklist:

1. Il cinico
2. I mangiatori di patate
3. Il nonno, il bisnonno
4. Il ballerino
5. Il non-illuminato
6. L'osservatore, l'osservatore 1
7. Il ladro
8. Il piromane
9. Lo spadaccino
10. Il necromante
11. La bestia

Download (~230 kbps)