Posted in Whathaveyou on February 27th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
This week marks both the album release and the launch of the tour to support it for L’Ira del Baccano‘s new LP, Cosmic Evoked Potentials (review here). No, it’s not the longest string of tour dates you’ll ever see, but that’s the point; it’s a band getting out and doing what they can to spread the word about their new record. Pretty much the ideal of underground heavy in all its forms. The Italian instrumentalists will be out for nine shows in their home country and of course Germany, and whether it’s the only run they do or the beginning of a series of such sojourns, considering the work they’ve done on the album, I think it’s a good time to show up at a gig if you happen to be in their path or adjacent to it.
That’s pretty much the story here. The record is coming out through Subsound, and most of what I have to say about it is in the review linked above — these tour dates were also posted there, but I’m a big believer in supporting independent tours for cool albums — but if this nudge gets a few more ears on it or maybe a body out to a show, that’s enough of an excuse to me to repeat myself. This is the internet. Not like there isn’t room.
The video that was previously premiered for album opener “The Strange Dream of My Old Sun” is below. By all means, dive in:
L’IRA DEL BACCANO COSMIC MARCH TOUR 2023 starts this week!
Italian instrumentalist heavy progressive rockers L’Ira del Baccano will release their new album, Cosmic Evoked Potentials, on March 3, through Subsound Records. Recorded live in 2021, the band count it as their fourth full-length behind 2017’s Paradox Hourglass (review here), 2014’s Terra 42 (review here) and 2013’s Si Non Sedes iS: Live MMVII (reissue review here), though the latter was a live album taken from the first show they played under the L’Ira del Baccano name; they’d previously been known as Loosin’ o’ Frequencies and before that as Dark Awake, the collaboration between guitarist Alessandro Drughito Santori and guitarist/synthesist Roberto Malerba going back to the mid-’90s doom scene in Rome. Completed by bassist Ivan Contini Bacchisio and drummer Gianluca Giannasso, the Roman four-piece reemerge post-pandemic with a 40-minute collection of thoughtfully executed tracks.
They put their two longest pieces, opener “The Strange Dream of My Old Sun” (10:44) (video premiering below) and “Genziana (Improvisation 42)” (13:21) on side A while “The Electric Resolution” (6:37), “Cosmic Evoked Potentials” (6:38) and “Eclipse Omega…Old Sun Reprise” (2:50) highlight a more drifting psychedelic approach on side B, not without movement, but balancing its heft against a meditative patience and synth-laced far-out-ism, the title-track rooting its way into a nebular cloud of synth and drum atmospherics that feels broader in reach than the band were even just a few years ago. The general mission of L’Ira del Baccano hasn’t changed, in terms of bringing Santori‘s songs to life in a full, vibrant and engrossing fashion with marked chemistry all the more apparent for their commitment to live recording (which has obviously been there since the start), but as one might expect, they’ve grown firmer in their purposes, more mature, and more solidified even as they explore new avenues of their sound — and not at all just in the two longer tracks at the outset, though “The Strange Dream of My Old Sun” and “Genziana (Improvisation 42)” do make for a particularly dive-right-in beginning on the longer first side of the platter.
Strangers neither to fluidity nor heft, L’Ira del Baccano launch Cosmic Evoked Potentials in immediate communion with the titular space. An introductory drone leads to a stretch of methodically building soft guitar before the drums enter, synth or guitar drone coinciding as the bass and the drums lock in the central groove. Over the next few minutes, they solidify around a procession that brings to mind My Sleeping Karma before seeming to find another level of heavy shortly before the five-minute mark. Tied together in some ways by its synth, “The Strange Dream of My Old Sun” flows in its transitions and is hypnotic as it plays back and forth, one element rising in the dynamic mix before receding back, be it heavier guitar, the keyboard or some looped effects either from Santori or Malerba. A second (or third, depending on where you hear the divisions) movement to the track begins at around seven minutes, shifting into slower roll, with weightier low end and a distinct sense of punctuation in the snare as the guitars strum harder and the synth moves toward its eventual freakout apex, residual after the crash of the other instruments as a lead-in for “Genziana (Improvisation 42),” the 13 minutes of which were reportedly carved out of a 45-minute jam.
It’s hard to imagine that full session won’t see release at some point in this age of infinite capacity to throw something out there to stream for interested fans, but there’s something to be said as well for the manner in which L’Ira del Baccano construct “Genziana (Improvisation 42)” — one also wonders if they actually keep count, and if so, if they have a hard drive somewhere containing this and the 41 other improv jams leading up to it — working off the spontaneous foundation and overdubbing synth and effects in ways that build out the ambient impression of what becomes a complete idea of a song, growing to some of Cosmic Evoked Potentials‘ heaviest moments rather than simply meandering through space, finding a progressive chug in its second half around which the band seem rally and collectively push forward, and while I know editing is a part of the art here, the musical conversation between players is nonetheless what makes “Genziana (Improvisation 42)” such a highlight, the way the turns are anticipated and fleshed out and all the more cohesive for the keyboard so crucial to its makeup.
“The Electric Resolution” finds itself more quickly directed into a winding but still riffy movement, some fuzz to the tone but a kind of distortion that would work as well for metal as it does for the ultimately still-languid purposes L’Ira del Baccano put it to as the backing for the midpoint lead on their side B leadoff. That solo legitimately soars, and the rhythm that reemerges after seems to carry all the more punch for its having been there, the two guitars finding a harmonized moment before splitting off for dual-channel solos and a stop that brings the keyboard to the forefront ahead of a complex but welcoming ending and direct turn into “Cosmic Evoked Potentials” itself, which is a mellower counterpoint to “The Electric Resolution.” The two feel purposefully paired even before one notes the similarity in runtime, and though the title-track gets plenty heavy and even works in a bit of shove to its ending, the abiding spirit is more subdued, not as hard-edged as the song prior, which is a turn well made in leading to “Eclipse Omega” and its synth/drone communion with “The Strange Dream of My Old Sun” back at the start.
If the idea with “Eclipse Omega” was to underscore the journey that’s been unfolding as L’Ira del Baccano convey the ways in which creativity seems ether-born — the potentials evoked from the cosmos, they might say — and to look back and see the place they started as a small dot like the distant Earth as viewed from Saturn’s rocky, icy rings, then fair enough. What that doesn’t necessarily tell you is how well Cosmic Evoked Potentials functions as a distinct entirety in tone and performance. The molten vibes throughout and the manner in which the band create space and then work to fill them are a fitting manifestation of their style and evolution as a group (Giannasso, making his first appearance, fits right in and plays a large role in setting the mood), and they’ve yet to find the end point, it seems, as “Eclipse Omega” calls out to the void in the resonant long fade that caps the album. Considering these recordings are two years old — something not all that uncommon in the era of global wakeup — it’s entirely possible L’Ira del Baccano have already moved forward from where these songs find them, but the accomplishments here in atmosphere and expression aren’t to be ignored. It is a work to be engaged with which it is a pleasure to engage.
The video for “The Strange Dream of My Old Sun” premieres below, followed by more info on the record from the PR wire, including some words from Santori on the subject.
Please enjoy:
L’Ira del Baccano, “The Strange Dream of My Old Sun” video premiere
Alessandro Santori on “The Strange Dream of My Old Sun”:
“The Strange Dream.. ” is a roller coaster, a trip about our expectations, on what and where the highs and lows of our lives will bring us.
L’IRA DEL BACCANO “COSMIC EVOKED POTENTIALS” pre order :
Doomdelic Instrumental Space Prog Rockers L’IRA DEL BACCANO are back with their official 4th album on Subsound Records ‘‘COSMIC EVOKED POTENTIALS’’. The album release will be preceded by a video for the single ‘‘The Strange Dream of My Old Sun’’.
Producer and guitarist Alessandro Santori says about the album: Cosmic Evoked Potentials is a rite of passage, the end of a circle and already blooming of another. Surely our most instinctive effort so far. We went back to our roots of live recording, this time instead of a stage we chose an old mansion from late ‘1700 outside Rome. The atmosphere there was so charming and stimulating that 13 minutes of a 45 min long improvisation ended up in the album. We wanted the dynamics and moods of the parts to be the most important thing, taking more time than our usual developing the “story” of the songs.
L’Ira Del Baccano will start promoting “Cosmic Evoked Potentials” live in March 2023: COSMIC MARCH TOUR 2023 03-03 MANTOVA IT – Arci Tom 04-03 ROSENHEIM DE – Asta Rosenheim 05-03 WURZBURG DE – Immerhin 06-03 NUREMBERG DE – Kunstverein Hintere 07-03 WEIMAR DE – C. Keller 08-03 HILDBURGHAUSEN DE – Molle 09-03 MANNHEIM DE – Altes Volksbad 10-03 ULM DE – Hexenhaus Ulm 11-03 KAUFBEUREN DE- Roundhouse 12-03 TBA
Tracklisting: 1. The Strange Dream of my Old Sun 10:44 2. Genziana (Improvisation 42)* 13:21 3. The Electric Resolution 06:36 4. Cosmic Evoked Potentials 06:37 5. Eclipse Omega…Old Sun Reprise 02:50
(* Genziana is an improvisation extract from a 45 minutes live session with post overdubs)
L’Ira del Baccano: Alessandro Drughito Santori: Guitars, Loops , Production Roberto Malerba: Lead Guitar, Guitar FX, Synth, Loops Gianluca Giannasso: Drums Ivan Contini: Bass
Posted in Reviews on January 13th, 2023 by JJ Koczan
So here we are. On the verge of two weeks, 100 records later. My message here is the same as ever: I’m tired and I hope you found something worthwhile. A lot of this was catchup for me — still is, see Gaupa below — but maybe something slipped through the cracks for you in 2022 that got a look here, or maybe not and you’re not even seeing this and it doesn’t matter anyway and what even is music, etc., etc. I don’t know.
A couple bands were stoked along the way. That’s fun, I guess. Mostly I’ve been trying to keep in mind that I’m doing this for myself, because, yeah, there’s probably no other way I was going to get to cover these 100 albums, and I feel like the site is stronger for having done so, at least mostly. I guess shrug and move on. Next week is back to normal reviews, premieres and all that. I think March we’ll do this again, maybe try to keep it to five or six days. Two 100-record QRs in a row has been a lot.
But again, thanks if you’ve kept up at all. I’m gonna soak my head in these and then cover it with a pillow for a couple days to keep the riffs out. Just kidding, I’ll be up tomorrow morning writing. Like a sucker.
Winter 2023 Quarterly Review #91-100:
Gaupa, Myriad
Beginning with the hooky “Exoskeleton” and “Diametrical Enchantress,” Myriad is the second full-length from Sweden’s Gaupa (their first for Nuclear Blast), and a bringing together of terrestrial and ethereal heavy elements. Even at its most raucous, Gaupa‘s material floats, and even at its most floating, there is a plan at work, a story unfolding, and an underlying structure to support them. From the minimalist start of “Moloken” to the boogie rampage of “My Sister is a Very Angry Man,” the Swedefolk of “Sömnen,” the tension and explosions of “RA,” with the theatrical-but-can-also-really-sing, soulful vocals of Emma Näslund at the forefront, a proggy and atmospheric cut like “Elden” — which becomes an intense battery by the time it hits its apex; I’ve heard that about aging — retains a distinct human presence, and the guitar work of Daniel Nygren and David Rosberg, Erik Sävström‘s bass and Jimmy Hurtig‘s drums are sharp in their turns and warm in their tones, creating a fluidity that carries the five-piece to the heavy immersion of “Mammon,” where Näslund seems to find another, almost Bjork-ish level of command in her voice before, at 5:27 into the song’s 7:36, the band behind her kicks into the heaviest roll of the album; a shove by the time they’re done. Can’t ask for more. Some records just have everything.
Six albums in, let’s just all take a minute to be glad Orango are still at it. The Oslo-based harmonybringers are wildly undervalued, now over 20 years into their tenure, and their eighth album, Mohican (which I’m not sure is appropriate to take as an album title unless you’re, say, a member of the Stockbridge-Munsee Community) is a pleasure cruise through classic heavy rock styles. From opener/longest track (immediate points) “The Creek” twisting through harder riffing and more melodic range than most acts have in their entire career, through the memorable swagger in the organ-laced “Fryin’,” the stadium-ready “Running Out of Reasons,” the later boogie of “War Camp” and shuffle in “Dust & Dirt” (presumably titled for what’s kicked up by said shuffle) and the softer-delivered complementary pair “Cold Wind” and “Ain’t No Road” ending each side of the LP with a mellow but still engaging wistfulness, nobody does the smooth sounds of the ’70s better, and Mohican is a triumph in showcasing what they do, songs like “Bring You Back Home” and the bluesier “Wild River Song” gorgeous and lush in their arrangements while holding onto a corresponding human sensibility, ever organic. There is little to do with Orango except be wowed and, again, be thankful they’ve got another collection of songs to bask in and singalong to. It’s cool if you’re off-key; nobody’s judging.
You never really know when a flute, a choir, or a digeridoo might show up, and that’s part of the fun with Onségen Ensemble‘s six-track Realms LP, which goes full-Morricone in “Naked Sky” only after digging into the ambient prog of “The Sleeping Lion” and en route to the cinematic keys and half-speed King Crimson riffing of “Abysmal Sun,” which becomes a righteous melodic wash. The Finnish natives’ fourth LP, its vinyl pressing was crowdfunded through Bandcamp for independent release, and while the guitar in “Collapsing Star” calls back to “Naked Sky” and the later declarations roll out grandiose crashes, the horns of “The Ground of Being” set up a minimalist midsection only to return in even more choral form, and “I’m Here No Matter What” resolves in both epic keys/voices and a clear, hard-strummed guitar riff, the name Realms feels not at all coincidental. This is worldbuilding, setting a full three-dimensional sphere in which these six pieces flow together to make the 40-minute entirety of the album. The outright care put into making them, the sense of purpose, and the individualized success of the results, shouldn’t be understated. Onségen Ensemble are becoming, and so have become, a treasure of heavy, enveloping progressive sounds, and without coming across as contrived, Realms has a painterly sensibility that resonates joy.
Chad Heille (ex-Egypt, currently also El Supremo) drums in this Fargo, North Dakota, three-piece completed by guitarist/vocalist/engineer Chris Ellingson and bassist/vocalist Mitch Martin, and the heavy bluesy groove they emit as they unfurl “Witch Lung,” their self-titled debut’s 10-minute opener and longest track (immediate points), is likewise righteous and hypnotic. Even as “Paranoid Humanoid” kicks into its chorus on Heille‘s steady thud and a winding lead from Ellingson, one wouldn’t call their pace hurried, and while I’d like to shake everyone in the band’s hand for having come up with the song title “Yeti Davis Eyes” — wow; nicely done — the wandering jam itself is even more satisfying, arriving along its instrumental course at a purely stoner rock janga-janga before it’s finished and turns over to the final two tracks, “The Good Ride” and “Stoned Age,” both shorter, with the former also following an instrumental path, classically informed but modern in its surge, and the latter seeming to find all the gallop and shove that was held back from elsewhere and loosing it in one showstopping six-minute burst. I’d watch this live set, happily. Reminds a bit of Geezer on paper but has its own identity. Their sound isn’t necessarily innovative or trying to be, but their debut nonetheless establishes a heavy dynamic, shows their chemistry across a varied collection of songs, and offers a take on genre that’s welcome in the present and raises optimism for what they’ll do from here. It’s easy to dig, and I dig it.
Blake Hornsby, A Collection of Traditional Folk Songs & Tunes Vol. 1
It’s not quite as stark a contrast as one might think to hear Asheville, North Carolina’s Blake Hornsby go from banjo instrumentalism to more lush, sitar-infused arrangements for the final three songs on his A Collection of Traditional Folk Songs & Tunes Vol. 1, as bridging sounds across continents would seem to come organically to his style of folk. And while perhaps “Old Joe Clark” wasn’t written as a raga to start with, it certainly works as one here, answering the barebones runs of “John Brown’s Dream” with a fluidity that carries into the more meditative “Cruel Sister” and a drone-laced 13-minute take on the Appalachian traditional song “House Carpenter” (also done in various forms by Pentangle, Joan Baez, Myrkur, and a slew of others), obscure like a George Harrison home-recorded experiment circa Sgt. Pepper but sincere in its expression and cross-cultural scope. Thinking of the eight-tracker as an LP with two sides — one mostly if not entirely banjo tunes between one and two minutes long, the other an outward-expanding journey using side A as its foundation — might help, but the key word here is ‘collection,’ and part of Hornsby‘s art is bringing these pieces into his oeuvre, which he does regardless of the form they actually take. That is a credit to him and so is this album.
Oof that’s heavy. Produced by guitarist/vocalist Nick Forkel, who’s joined in the band by bassist Chris O’Toole (also Unearth) and drummer John “Jono” Garrett (also Mos Generator), Turbid North‘s The Decline is just as likely to be grind as doom at any given moment, as “Life Over Death” emphasizes before “Patients” goes full-on into brutality, and is the band’s fourth full-length and first since 2015. The 2023 release brings together 10 songs for 43 minutes that seem to grow more aggressive as they go, with “Eternal Dying” and “The Oppressor” serving as the opening statement with a lumber that will be held largely but not completely in check until the chugging, slamming plod of closer “Time” — which still manages to rage at its apex — while the likes of “Slaves,” “Drown in Agony” and “The Old Ones” dive into more extreme metallic fare. No complaints, except maybe for the bruises, but as “The Road” sneaks a stoner rock riff in early and some cleaner shouts in late amid Mastodonny noodling, there’s a playfulness that hints toward the trio enjoying themselves while doling out such punishment, and that gives added context and humanity to the likes of “A Dying Earth,” which is severe both in its ambient and more outright violent stretches. Not for everybody, but if you’re pissed off and feel like your brain’s on fire, they have your back with ready and waiting catharsis. Sometimes you just want to punch yourself in the face.
A third full-length in as many years from Roman four-piece Modern Stars — vocalist/guitarist/synthesist Andrea Merolle (also sitar and mandolin), vocalist Barbara Margani, bassist/mixer Filippo Strang and drummer Andrea Sperduti — Space Trips for the Masses is maybe less directly space rock in its makeup than one might think. The band’s heavy psychedelia is hardly earthbound, but more ambience than fiery thrust or motorik, and Merolle‘s vocals have a distinctly Mark Lanegan-esque smokiness to which Margani adds bolstering backing presence on the deceptively urbane “No Fuss,” after the opening drift of “Starlight” — loosely post-rock, but too active to be that entirely either, and that’s a compliment — and the echoing “Monkey Blues” first draw the listener in. Margani provides the only voice on centerpiece “My Messiah Left Me Behind,” but that shift is just one example of Modern Stars‘ clear intent to offer something different on every song, be it the shimmer of “Everyday” or the keyboard sounds filling the open spaces early in the eight-minute “Drowning,” which later takes up a march punctuated by, drums and tambourine, devolving on a long synth/noise-topped fade into the six-minute liquid cohesion that is “Ninna Nanna,” a capstone summary of the fascinating sprawl Modern Stars have crafted. One could live here a while, in this ‘space.’
Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships, Destination Ceres Station: Reefersleep EP
Those who’ve been following the progression of Nebraska’s Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships will find Destination Ceres Station: Reefersleep — their second offering in 2022 behind the sophomore full-length Consensus Trance (review here) — accordingly dense in tone and steady in roll as the three-piece of Jeremy Warner, Karlin Warner and Justin Kamal offer two more tracks that would seem to have been recorded in the full-length session. As “Destination Ceres Station: Reefersleep” open-spaces and chugs across an instrumental-save-for-samples 12:31 and the subsequent “Ice Hauler” lumbers noddily to its 10:52 with vocals incorporated, the extended length of each track gives the listener plenty to groove on, classically stonerized in the post-Sleep tradition, but becoming increasingly individual. These two songs, with the title-track hypnotizing so that the start of the first verse in “Ice Hauler” is something of a surprise, pair well, and Trillion Ton Beryllium Ships add a taste of slow-boogie to lead them out in the slow fade of the latter, highlighting the riff worship at the heart of their increasingly confident approach. One continues to look forward to what’s to come from them, feeling somewhat greedy for doing so given the substance they’ve already delivered.
The current of feedback or drone noise beneath the rolling motion of Borehead‘s “Phantasm (A Prequel)” — before the sample brings the change into the solo section; anybody know the name of that rabbit? — is indeed a precursor to the textured, open-spaced heavy progressive instrumentalism London trio have on offer with their aptly-titled second EP, 0002. Produced by Wayne Adams at the London-underground go-to Bear Bites Horse Studio, the three-song outing is led by riffs on that opener, patient in its execution and best consumed at high volume so that the intricacy of the bass in “Lost in Waters Deep,” the gentle ghost snare hits in the jazzy first-half break of “Mariana’s Lament” after the ticking clock and birdsong intro, and the start-stop declarative riff that lands so heavy before they quickly turn to the next solo, or, yes, those hidden melodies in “Phantasm (A Prequel)” aren’t lost. These aspects add identity to coincide with the richness of tone and the semi-psychedelic outreach of 0002‘s overarching allure, definitely in-genre, but in a way that seems contingent largely on the band’s interests not taking them elsewhere over time, or at least expanding in multiple directions on what’s happening here. Because there’s a pull in these songs, and I think it’s the band being active in their own development, though four years from their first EP and with nothing else to go on, it’s hard to know where they’ll head or how they’ll get there based on these three tracks. Somehow that makes it more exciting.
With song titles and lyrical themes based around Soviet space exploration, Kosmodrom is the ninth full-length from Parisian death-doomers Monolithe. The band are 20 years removed from their debut album, have never had a real break, and offer up 67 minutes’ worth of gorgeously textured, infinitely patient and serenely immersive death, crossing into synth and sampling as they move toward and through the 26-minute finale “Kosmonavt,” something of a victory lap for the album itself, even if sympathy for anything Russian is at a low at this point in Europe, given the invasion of Ukraine. That’s not Monolithe‘s fault, however, and really at this point there’s maybe less to say about it than there would’ve been last year, but the reason I wanted to write about Kosmodrom, and about Monolithe particularly isn’t just that they’re good at what they do, but because they’ve been going so long, they’re still finding ways to keep themselves interested in their project, and their work remains at an as-high-if-not-higher level than it was when I first heard the 50-minute single-song Monolithe II in 2005. They’ve never been huge, never had the hype machine behind them, and they keep doing what they do anyway, because fuck it, it’s art and if you’re not doing it for yourself, what’s the point? In addition to the adventure each of the five songs on Kosmodrom represents, some moments soaring, some dug so low as to be subterranean, both lush, weighted and beautiful, their ethic and the path they’ve walked deserves nothing but respect, so here’s me giving it.
Posted in Bootleg Theater on November 18th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
I’ve always felt a little bad about not reviewing Black Rainbows‘ Holy Moon EP. It’s one of the things I most associate them with in my mind, actually. That “Oh yeah I gotta review that” feeling never goes away for me sometimes. And the Rome-based three-piece are currently in the studio cracking out a follow-up to 2020’s Cosmic Ritual Supertrip (review here), so they’ve been in my head and it’s time to exorcise this particular riffy demon.
First of all, nine years after its first release in 2013, I’m still not sure why Holy Moon isn’t a full-length album. It’s 38 minutes long. It’s got six songs, and even if the title-track is a sample-laced instrumental and the closer is a 12-minute take on MC5‘s “Black to Comm,” so what? Holy Moon followed behind 2012’s Supermothafuzzalicious!! (review here) and preceded 2015’s still-the-best-album-title-ever Hawkdope (review here). It’s actually a pretty crucial moment for the band and in the riotous opener “The Hunter,” you can hear shades of the band they were becoming — ditto that the Core-via-The–Atomic–Bitchwaxy riff (so yes it sounds like “Kiss the Sun”) at root in “Monster of the Highway.”
Meanwhile, “Chakra Temple” digs into more meditative heavy psych in a way that feels genuinely experimental — it’s got throat-singing! — coming from Black Rainbows in the sense that I can’t necessarily think of when they’d done it prior, running nearly nine minutes in the process, “Holy Moon” itself earns its place with its riff and adds a bit of a respectable ‘fuck it’ vibe to the proceedings that has the effect, inadvertently or otherwise, of broadening the listener’s expectation, so that yeah, they can go wherever they want, including to “Chakra Temple” and the penultimate “If I Was a Bird,” which finds the band’s guitarist/vocalist and Heavy Psych Sounds honcho Gabriele Fiori digging into acoustic psychedelia in a way that he’d go on to do a few years later in his side-project The Pilgrim, which put out two records between 2019-2020. Granted, the band — at this point Fiori, bassist Dario Iocca and drummer Alberto Croce — had been toying with acoustics instrumentally since their 2007 debut, Twilight in the Desert, but that still makes “If I Was a Bird” part of the process.
And when they get around to it, they absolutely rip into “Black to Comm.” Like hungry animals feeding on that riff. Then solos start punching in and they absolutely take off on a righteous space rock jam, patterned after MC5 but with their own spin and fuzz and growing mellow and hypnotic before The Riff comes back in at 9:43. That’s right. From about 1:59 to 9:43? Black Rainbows pretty much hang up a sign that says ‘No Squares Allowed’ and take “Black to Comm” out for a walk. Were they the first to do so? No, obviously not. The song’s a cover. But especially for the three-piece at the time, it’s a bold take, and it declares a kind of sonic freedom that still resonates in their work today, now 17 years past their founding in 2005.
No doubt these things are easier to see in hindsight, but Holy Moon accomplished a few things for Black Rainbows in terms of moving them from Supamothafuzzalicious!! to Hawkdope, and that’s a pretty sizable jump. It’s the not-at-all-missing link between them. Black Rainbows‘ first three records, which along with a 2012 split with Farflung were first issued through Longfellow Deeds — that’s 2007’s Twilight in the Desert, 2010’s Carmina Diabolo and Supermothafuzzalicious!! in 2012; all of which have been reissued by Heavy Psych Sounds along the way, as has Holy Moon — set out as more straight-ahead desert-style stoner rock. Twilight in the Desert was Cali worship outright, done particularly well but not representative necessarily of the individual sonic personality the band would begin to manifest already in Carmina Diabolo, which, by the way, had the acoustic interlude “Carmen Diabolo” and the seven-minute heavy psych finisher “Space Kingdom.” So they were on their way. As a whole, Supermothafuzzalicious!! was tighter and more streamlined in terms of structure, and by the time they got to Hawkdope in 2015, their freakery had fully manifested in cuts like “Killer Killer Fuzz” and the still-glorious “The Cosmic Picker.”
They had found themselves. One tends to think of Fiori as the driving force in Black Rainbows — he’s the sole remaining founder, often credited as songwriter along with guitar, vocals, lyrics, various keys, etc., and certainly seems to be the root of their aesthetic — but Holy Moon feels like a whole-band progression from where they were to where they were going. And as a listening experience, what might at the time have seemed like throwaway material or half-a-song in the case of the title-track, issued to keep momentum going between proper studio albums — an ethic the band followed earlier this year when they put out Live at Desertfest Belgium (review here) ahead of the album they’re making now for release in 2023 — actually captures the transitional moment that was in progress for them. For “Holy Moon” alone, never mind the range between “Chakra Temple” into “If I Was a Bird” into “Black to Comm” back-to-back-to-back, the let’s-get-weird spirit of the Holy Moon EP might make it their most purely stoner rock offering. That’s not something they’ve always wanted to be, and it’s not necessarily what they’ve become, though there’s material on Cosmic Ritual Supertrip that argues otherwise, including the sample-laced closer “Fire Breather,” but it’s territory to which they laid claim on Holy Moon in a way they hadn’t before.
Also, there’s something inspiring about a band just putting a thing out there and letting it be what it is. Maybe Black Rainbows didn’t want to push Holy Moon as a full-length. Okay. Their LPs are reliably north of 40 minutes and this is less than that, with the no-lyrics title-track and the extended cover, so yeah, it might not feel complete. But the fact that they let it be what it is, recognized its worth on its own level, and issued it with what might’ve been perceived as rough edges demonstrates a self-awareness that many bands never develop, never mind in the span of five or six years past their debut.
It’s a ripper. I’m not going to say I’m glad I never reviewed it then so that I could appreciate it now — I did post about it; see here, here, here and here ; it’s not like this is the first time it’s ever been covered in this space — since it’s nagged at me for so long, but I am happy to have the occasion both to dig into it (sort of) properly in a spirit of looking forward to their next release. If you haven’t checked it out, maybe you’ll also dig where they’re coming from.
As always, I hope you enjoy. Thanks for reading.
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So, last Thursday, not yesterday, I had arthroscopic surgery on my torn meniscus. They took out about 20 percent of it, apparently, which seems like plenty. It was a evidently a pretty bad tear, had flipped back on itself, blah blah. This happened, again, while getting up from sitting on the floor of the Kulturkirken Jakob in Oslo at Høstsabbat, because life is ridiculous. Could’ve happened anywhere, right? Had to be while I’m standing up to take pictures of a band. Fine. If that’s going to be my experience of middle age, at least the music is still good if I’m not.
Last weekend I was in some serious fucking pain. Starting about Friday night through let’s say Tuesday morning, could barely put weight on it. I thought I did something to screw it up, because Thursday after the operation I was veritably hopping around, but when I went back on Monday to have it checked the surgeon was like, “Nah dude toughen up everything’s cool.” Already it was getting steadily better, Sunday to Monday (last Saturday and Sunday were pretty bad, and I note that so that if I see this years later I can remember it), but this past Monday was also my follow-up with the neurologist I met with (virtually) a month ago.
I was on my own this time, which is never a good thing, since my wife was at work. I was supposed to have blood drawn before the appointment. Didn’t. Just got lost between everything with the knee. And there was a questionnaire that I was supposed to fill out that, because it came to my email with a bunch of other attachments instead of coming through the patient portal site (American healthcare is a fucking nightmare with digital integration; it’s like all these infinite-dollar companies decided to let their nephews make their websites), I most certainly didn’t do either. So it was a short, frustrating, humiliating appointment as the doctor reminded me repeatedly of the ADHD diagnosis she brought out last time and that the reason I felt overwhelmed all the time is my abby-normal brain goes from zero to fight-or-flight with almost nothing in between. I have a follow-up Dec. 14. Have had the blood drawn (seven fucking vials of it) and will do that questionnaire as well (it’s an uneditable pdf, so need to figure out quite how to do it), but yeah, it was an embarrassing, shitty-feeling day on the whole, and to be frank, it defined a good portion of the week. As awful.
After the surgery, they gave me Tramadol, which is an opiate that I kind of read as half-assed vicodin? I don’t know, and I honestly haven’t been curious enough to look it up. The only real relief I’ve gotten is from THC. I’ve also noticed that being stoned is kind of the only time I can shut my brain the fuck up and perhaps quell some of that crushing feeling that dominates much of my day-to-day. Disposable vapes on sale up the road have served well but are expensive, and money is as tight as sympathy is low. Clearly if I feel like I need a chemical comedown to get through my afternoon, that’s gonna be on me. My neurologist prescribed 75mg of Bupoprion, better known as Wellbutrin, which is an antidepressant. Back on meds I go. I guess that particular experiment stopping the Citalopram, better known as Celexa, a few months back that I had been on for years was not a success. Maybe I should seek ADHD meds as well, but given The Patient Mrs.’ experience in this regard, I’m not inspired. Ritalin, which I understand is both highly addictive — not a minor concern, as I am often habit-forming — and effective, is not forthcoming. Also I worry that if I don’t feel compelled to pick up everything on the floor and do dishes and laundry all the time, the house will go to shit since that kind of thing is very much my responsibility.
Perhaps the summary here is that shit is complicated.
Also busy. On Monday, the three of us in our first bit of whole-family air travel since the start of the pandemic will fly to the Mexican West Coast for a wedding of good friends on Tuesday. We fly out Monday AM, will return Thursday because flights actually on Thanksgiving are cheaper. That gives us Friday to get ready because Saturday we’re hosting my family from up the road and likely The Patient Mrs.’ family from Connecticut as well for turkey, etc., dinner, I think partially out of guilt for not being around on the day itself.
In any case, the rush continues as we move into December. The first weekend is the Alabama Thunderpussy reunion in Richmond, Virginia, that The Obelisk is presenting and that I’m driving to. The week after that is Truckfighters Fuzz Festival in Stockholm and I’m traveling with the Kings Destroy guys. I honestly don’t even know when I’m flying out or back. None of this stuff is anything to complain about — with the exception perhaps of the daunting prospect of eight waking hours Mexico and back on a plane with The Pecan, who is going to need to have explained to him multiple times why he can’t go in the cockpit and actually fly the thing; we rented a Switch at our local library-of-things, but still — between family time, The Patient Mrs. wrapping up her semester, flying to Mexico and back, driving to Richmond (five and a half hours; doable but takes some time, certainly) and back, flying to Sweden and back, covering these shows — I think I might want to go see Freedom Hawk in Brooklyn on Dec. 19 as well — the impending neurology follow-up and then pretty much right into the holidays and The Pecan’s break from school, I feel somewhat justified in being overwhelmed. While we’re here with the established backdrop of malfunctioning equipment that is my mind, I’ll add that I’ve also put on weight and am actively, by-the-minute engaged in hating myself for it even as I continue to both restrict and binge food. What a waste of my time that feels like. But it’s always there.
I go to the orthopedist again later this morning (it’s 6:30AM, was up at four to write today, as usual) to have the stitches taken out of my knee. If he tells me I need physical therapy — my mobility is limited and given the pain I only really started doing the prescribed stretches again yesterday, so it’s not outside the realm of possibility — I might just start to cry. It doesn’t seem take much these days in that regard.
So next week, with the travel, I have nothing scheduled for review. That’s a first in a few years at least. Monday I’ll either have a writeup for Candlemass or 16 — I’m going to listen to both today and decide what I’m feeling more to write up over the weekend — and I’m sure I’ll past one or two things along the way during the week between Tues., Wed., and Thanksgiving, before closing out the week on Friday (we’re home late Thursday night, so I don’t expect to have much ready to go ahead of time), and I need to do the next Gimme Metal show before we leave on Monday so it can air on Friday as well, oof, but even having nothing planned bothers me. It’s a big emotional drag that’s part of my whole compulsion to write, compulsion to create content here thing that has me horrified that if I stop for a few days, I won’t be able to start again. This is actually something I worry about.
So now that I’ve unloaded all of this on you — sorry about that, by the way; surely you have your own shit going on and if you’re still reading, thanks for not leaving to do the probably better things you have to do as part of your day — I’m going to literally and figuratively limp into the ending of this week in utter terror of what lays ahead.
As always, I hope you have a great and safe weekend and I thank you for reading. Don’t forget to hydrate, watch your head, and so on.
Posted in Questionnaire on November 9th, 2022 by JJ Koczan
The Obelisk Questionnaire is a series of open questions intended to give the answerer an opportunity to explore these ideas and stories from their life as deeply as they choose. Answers can be short or long, and that reveals something in itself, but the most important factor is honesty.
Based on the Proust Questionnaire, the goal over time is to show a diverse range of perspectives as those who take part bring their own points of view to answering the same questions. To see all The Obelisk Questionnaire posts, click here.
Thank you for reading and thanks to all who participate.
The Obelisk Questionnaire: Andrea Merolle of Modern Stars
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How do you define what you do and how did you come to do it?
As a musician I try to synthesize my daily sensations and incorporate them into something that is material and ethereal at the same time. So maybe I can define what I do as the description of a perspective or a description from my perspective, or both.
I cannot say how I came to do it. When a music idea comes to my mind I try to listen to it and put it down. Sometimes it works fine, sometimes less, but it doesn’t matter. Music is the way I find my inner peace and happiness. Anyway.
Describe your first musical memory.
Waking up with my uncle soldering and hammering iron early in the morning, every morning, just beneath my bedroom.
Then the day went less techno and more pop/rock oriented with Alvin & The Chipmunks and other cartoon songs by Cristina D’Avena (she was more famous than Michael Jackson in Italy at that time).
Describe your best musical memory to date.
My daughter listening for the whole day to Singapore Sling’s ‘Overdriver’, even while sleeping, when she was 6 months old. I think it gave me the inspiration for the songs ‘Everyday’ and ‘Ninna Nanna’ included in our upcoming album ‘Space Trips for the Masses’.
When was a time when a firmly held belief was tested?
When we recorded a 13 minutes obsessive track called ‘Indian Donna Summer’ for our second album ‘Psychindustrial’ we firmly believed that it was so anti-commercial that no one would listen to it. Obviously we didn’t care about that and our regret is that it should be even longer than it is.
The funny things was we were asked to sync it for an movie starring the last Italian X Factor winner about a young singer who is introduced to soul music by an elder rocker.
At the first time it sounded strange for an underground act like us, but we said ok let’s do it.
We just saw the movie at Rome Film Festival and it has been a beautiful experience hearing our songs in a cinema.
Where do you feel artistic progression leads?
Artistic progression should lead you to find who you really are, since art in my opinion is basically a form of free and personal expression. The rest is entertainment, which may be an art itself, or to be more precise a craft, but it does not produce as an outcome something that could be defined as artistic.
To progress as artist you do not necessary need a change in style but I firmly believe that musical genres and instruments to be played should never represent boundaries. It is essential to let any sound that surrounds you to be metabolized so you can take what you like from anything. I do not listen to much recorded music. And surely it isn’t my genre, but I noticed that in our last album and in the one that we are finalizing and hopefully will be out on 2023 I made an use of my Acidlab Miami (what a great 808 clone!) in such a way that, at a certain stage, reminds me trap music.
I never listened to it, but maybe it inexorably influenced me since it is so present in radios to which you must listen to. This because even if you are the most alternative guy in the world in case you step in to a cafe for an espresso you can close your eyes but not your ears. Here in Italy it happens at least twice a day and so here’s the result.
How do you define success?
Success may mean a lot of things and the concept may vary depending your perspectives of life.
For me, success is simply when in the end I feel fine. The rest is circumstance. It is here and now that counts, I don’t care so much about cause and effect.
What is something you have seen that you wish you hadn’t?
Too much greed. Too much plastic surgery. Too much decay of morals.
Describe something you haven’t created yet that you’d like to create.
I premise that Modern Stars have a distinctive sound that truly satisfies me. It essentially comes from a balanced blending of acoustic, electric and electronic elements.
At present we are working on a new album and I’m composing the basis for another one too, but despite of that I’m more focused on playing my modular system than other instruments and so I guess I would record something exclusively based on that. A bit ambient, a bit techno, with some buchla style blips and blops.
What do you believe is the most essential function of art?
The essential function of art is to keep our soul alive, especially in hard times.
Something non-musical that you’re looking forward to?
I would like to be a good father and husband. And I will be always ready as any ‘80s boy to defend the earth against a mutant invasion. After Covid and III World War we have to be prepared also for that. I’ll fight them with my guitars. Or maybe mutants can help us with our governments? Who knows. Stay human, stay mutant!
Posted in Whathaveyou on September 2nd, 2022 by JJ Koczan
In late 2019, with fervent momentum on their side following two initial full-lengths and a swath of live activity, Roman heavy rockers Fvzz Popvli announced they were leaving Heavy Psych Sounds and signing to Retro Vox Records for their next, third album. At the time, guitarist/vocalist Francesco “Pootchie” Pucci had this to say:
“After 2 albums, 10 European tours, 50.000km and more than 200 shows in 11 EU countries… We must say STOP! Now it’s time to rest and have a bit of time for ourselves… But the best thing is that a new adventure is coming, we gonna enter in the studio for our 3rd album in the end of January! We are very excited to announce our new label for this release: RETROVOX RECORDS an Italian based Rock’n’roll label, Bye Heavy Psych Sounds, thanks for all you did! More news soon! “
Well, it’s entirely possible that that album was done by the end of January 2020, but as I recall, Italy was a roiling shitshow of covid spread and lockdown mandates. They had a live album out last year, and started playing again as much as possible in June 2021, but as to the record, could be done, could not be started yet. I’d be interested to find out which, if either, the case may be.
But if they’re getting back to it for real, Fvzz Popvli‘s upcoming run will take up much of the band’s October and is probably a good way to do it. If they have other things to sort out in the wake of two of the shittiest years in the century-plus since the first audio was ever recorded for playback, well, they’re hardly alone in that.
From the ol’ PR wire:
FVZZ POPVLI will be finally back in Europe for a 15 gigs tour in October! Retrovox Records & MMV Booking are glad to announce this tour, which will cross four countries: Italy, Austria, Germany, and Switzerland. Take a look at the following gigs list, on five of those we will have the pleasure to share the stage with CANNABINEROS from Berlin. Fellas stay tuned, this will be just an appetizer for what will come further!
06.10.2022 – I – Castelnuovo D’asola – Bolther’s Secret Show 07.10.2022 – Ch – Kreuzlingen – Horst Klub 08.10.2022 – Ch – Basel – Renee’ 09.10.2022 – Ch – La-Chaux-De-Fonds – Bikini Test 11.10.2022 – D – Bielefeld – Potemkin Bar 12.10.2022 – D – Finsterwalde – L86* 13.10.2022 – D – Dresden – Chemiefabrik* 14.10.2022 – D – Potsdam – Archiv* 15.10.2022 – D – Hamburg – Bar 227* 16.10.2022 – D – Tba 19.10.2022 – D – Trier – Lucky’s Luke 20.10.2022 – D – Mannheim – Juha Schonau 21.10.2022 – D – Rosenheim – Asta 22.10.2022 – a – Kufstein – Vibes 23.10.2022 – I – San Zenone Degli Ezzelini – Punky Reggae *shows with Cannabineros
FVZZ POPVLI ARE: FRANCESCO “POOTCHIE” PUCCI – Guitar and Voice (BEESUS, The Wisdoom) DATIO PALATIO – Bass (The Anthony’s Vinyls) George – Drums
Posted in Whathaveyou on July 21st, 2022 by JJ Koczan
One does not need an excuse to see Ufomammut. One simply shows up and receives a pummeling from the outer reaches of the known cosmos as expanded by the James Webb Space Telescope and is thankful for the experience. The long-running Italian trio already did a stretch of dates this Spring to support their new album, Fenice (review here), and Urlo, Poia and post-hiatus drummer Levre will again hit the road this Fall. They were previously announced for Keep it Low in Munich, and they’ll also be at the 25th anniversary celebration of Orange Factory in Belgium.
There are a couple dates TBA on the poster, and you’ll have to forgive me for assuming there’s something there that’s yet to be revealed rather than just empty slots. Worse to worst, Ufomammut, you’re always welcome by me and I’m just like a nine-hour flight from Denmark, so feel free to pop over for a day or two.
The band posted these dates on social media:
So stoked to announce our Fenice Fall Tour! We will be touring Europe this September and October and we’re looking forward to meet you all again.
Thanks to Sound of Liberation for making this happen and Neurot Recordings and SUPERNATURALCAT for supporting our music.
20.09 – Lyon (FR) – Rock’n’Eat 21.09 – Nantes (FR) – Le Ferrailleur 22.09 – Paris (FR) – Backstage 23.09 – Tourcoing (FR) – Le Grand Mix 24.09 – Leuven (BE) – 25 Years Orange Factory – Het Depot 26.09 – Dortmund (DE) – Junkyard 27.09 – Hamburg (DE) – Knust 28.09 – Malmö (SE) – Plan B 29.09 – Stockholm (SE) – Hus 7 30.09 – Gothenburg (SE) – Valand 01.10 – Oslo (NO) – Kulturkirken Jakob (Høstsabbat presents) 02.10 – Copenhagen (DK) – Loppen 04.10 – TBA 05.10 – Leipzig (DE) – Ut Connewitz 06.10 – TBA 07.10 – München (DE) – Keep It Low Festival 08.10 – Linz (AT) – Stadtwerkstatt
Art by Malleus ROCK ART LAB Photo by Francesca De Franceschi Manzoni
UFOMAMMUT are: Poia – Guitars and Fxs Urlo – Bass, Vocals, Fxs and Synths Levre – Drums & Fxs Ciccio – Sound lord
For something so fluid in the listening experience, there are an awful lot of angles from which one might view Ufomammut‘s Fenice. Issued in continued association with Neurot Recordings, it is the ninth full-length from the groundbreaking Italian three-piece, whose Poia (guitar, synth) and Urlo (bass, vocals, synth) double as part of the visual arts collective Malleus, so long as one counts 2012’s two-part Oro: Opus Primum (review here) and Oro: Opus Alter (review here) as a single work.
It is also the band’s first album since declaring a perfectly timed indefinite hiatus in early 2020 and returning in April 2021 with new drummer Alessandro “Levre” Levrero, a longtime associate brought into the fold after the departure of Vita (now in Sonic Wolves), which was just the second lineup change Ufomammut have undergone in their 20-plus years of existence. And never mind that Ufomammut are responsible for no small part of the shape of what has become cosmic doom over the years of their tenure. Their blending of synthesizer/keyboard spaciousness, crushing riffs, atmospheric drones and a general sense of chaos — despite having a plan all the while — is singular.
While their influence has been present in the works of many who’ve come along since, Ufomammut remain unto themselves in sound, and Fenice is essentially the process by which they revamp and revitalize what that singularity is. Across the assembled six tracks and 38 minutes, the three-piece of Urlo, Poia and Levre set themselves to the task of remaking Ufomammut in the image of who they are today. Much of that will be recognizable to longer-term listeners or even those who took on 2017’s we’re-telling-you-this-is-definitely-our-eighth-record, 8 (review here), but from the energy with which cuts like 10-minute opener and longest track (immediate points) “Duat” and what follows are delivered, as well as the starkness with which they move back and forth between atmospheric experimentalism and drone and their rib-crunching low-end plunder, there’s a clear, refreshed sensibility to what they’re doing. The time away did them well, and among Fenice‘s strengths in production value and creative reach is the core desire to push themselves forward that has made Ufomammut so crucial and influential in the first place. No two Ufomammut records are the same — even the Oros had their own personalities — and the next one will be different from this. That should be comforting, whether you’re familiar with the band’s past work or not.
“Duat” spends its first three minutes world-building around curious depth charges, but by the time Ufomammut are another two deep, they’ve unfurled the full-bore tonal density with which they’ll work — Lorenzo Stecconi, who engineered, mixed and mastered, has been a mainstay presence of their output and his familiarity serves them well in these new songs and in their own new incarnation; that is to say, they had enough change to deal with going into the studio — and it continues to grow massive as it goes, with the on-the-beat punctuation of Levre‘s snare both along for the ride and propulsive in its own right in helping establish the overarching flow which will carry directly into the shorter drone piece “Kepherer” and on from there, weaving through the rest of the material.
Some right on rumble and bassy vibrations in “Kepherer” — those might be drums, actually — offset by high feedback and effects manipulation, and in just under three minutes, Ufomammut emphasize the hypnotic side of their approach in a way that may well be informed by some of Urlo‘s solo work in the multimedia experimental project The Mon, but “Psychostasia” brings those transcendental waveforms back to ground soon enough, Levre‘s drums and the far-back strum of Poia‘s guitar creating an open space for Urlo‘s melodic, dreamy-echo vocals. It’s further trance creation until about four and a half minutes in, then the guitar comes forward for a lead and, at 4:48, the move toward pummel begins in earnest.
They’ll get there step by step, here letting the drums go faster, there pulling back on bass, but at 5:31, they let it loose and the vocals return, and the sweep is a triumph of the promise of Ufomammut‘s aesthetic. A synth freakout is a quick bridge back to the onslaught, and as they crash into the ending of “Psychostasia” and into the beginning of the likely-autobiographical-on-some-level “Metamorphoenix,” a sample and the wash of synth noise again make the going immersive bordering on claustrophobic. As heavy as Ufomammut can get, sometimes it’s their quieter stretches that seem to most pull the air out of the room.
Just past two minutes in, “Metamorphoenix” introduces its central guitar figure, but it’s buried. Barely there, like a sumbliminal message. It’s not until the wash recedes — leaving the maybe-backwards spoken sample that accompanied behind — that “Metamorphoenix” seems to find the ground beneath it. There’s a build taking place, but the band have done this long enough that they won’t be rushed even for themselves, and each measure that ensues has a purpose of its own in feeding the forward movement.
By the time they’re seven minutes into the song’s 7:41, the tension is palpable to a near-skin-crawling degree, and it’s up to “Pyramind” to pay it off, which it does with an almost immediate turn into doomly crashes and out-the-airlock synthesizer, a lumbering that consumes the first two minutes of “Pyramind”‘s also-seven, and though they mellow out after two minutes in, the drums and bass under the heavy-but-floating guitar provide assurance there’s more to come. This part of “Pyramind” has vocals in layers — Ufomammut have never been a particularly singer-minded act, but I won’t take away from what Urlo does here or elsewhere in their catalog — and that covers the establishing a resurgent intensity of tone and riff, and at 5:36 into the 7:04, they move back to the nod and the crash that seem at first to be an apex for Fenice as a whole but with the turn to the 2:48 closer “Empyros” become just another stage of the setup.
There’s a stop, but on the next beat, “Empyros” is there and the impact is immediate, and Ufomammut finish this maybe-ninth record with a vital heavy groove, almost raw in its unfolding, but so clear in its message of riff worship as to be unmistakable. Synth swirls around, and there’s one change — at 1:43, into the next unbridled bit of skull-stompery. There are a few shouted lines, but they wrap Fenice on the relative quick and leave the listener to wonder how they managed to pack that much magnitude into a single LP. The answer to that, of course, is that they’re Ufomammut, and that’s what they do.
Whatever your level of experience with Ufomammut, whether you know them or don’t, whether you’ve been on board since 1999 or if Fenice is the first thing you’ve heard them, there are elements in these songs that have become staples of their style. They’re still two-thirds the same band, after all. But as much as Ufomammut have reaffirmed the progressive aspects of their past and remained loyal to themselves as songwriters, Fenice sounds like a new beginning too. That’s obviously not a coincidence.
