Bachi Da Pietra - Blues stripped to the bone from the underground

There are many roads one can take out of the Nineties and the indie sounds that defined the early part of the new millennium. A pair of extraordinary Italian musicians chose an underground path in 2004, a journey made of blood and metal, larvae and earth, fossils and rust.

Giovanni Succi (vocals, guitars and bass) came from the Madrigali Magri experience, while drummer Bruno Dorella was about to become a pillar of the national alternative scene, a former member of Wolfango, later part of Ronin and partnered with Stefania Pedretti in the experimental project OvO.

Together they conceived the Bachi da Pietra project, condensing spare rock-blues aromas into noir, minimalist trajectories.

In 2005 the debut Returning to the Earth was recorded in the crypt of the church of Sant'Ippolito in Nizza Monferrato, using particular techniques able to give the bare-bones sound the right amount of depth and roughness. The proposal was singular and caught people's attention: an urban blues, slow, dark, almost narcoleptic, tormented, primordial, at times unsettling, where the duo worked by subtraction, relying on sounds stripped to the bone, steeped in litres of alcohol, and on words that were often harsh and cursed, frequently barely whispered.

The drumming is essential, just kick, snare and a few odd tools, the guitar is almost always left in the background, sketching a scenario with no hope, no light, no way out. A return to the earth that is mournful and arid, with stories that probe the psyche, in titles that smell of sand and heat ("Verme", "Zolle", "Solare"), with slightly more conventionally "rock" hints surfacing in "Prostituisciti", placed just before the closing "Stirpe confusa". A debut with clear ideas and a precise project to pursue, which marked the beginning of the partnership with Mirko Spino's Wallace Records.

In 2007 confirmation didn't take long to arrive: Non io refined the experimental instincts announced by the debut two years earlier. Restlessness and depression permeate this second chapter too, unease and pain run through every groove, in a record that stays on claustrophobic tracks, where the inner space is devastated by anxieties and torments.

A cubist, futuristic blues, battered and stripped to the bone, essential and tar-black, carrying within it all the world's pain of living gathered into hyperrealistic flashes, where nihilism is always ready to triumph. Tight, imploded sounds, in which the slow pace is a metaphor for an ordeal as painful as it is inevitable. Glimpses of calm only in the closing "Ofelia", which nonetheless hails the end. This time it's a co-production between Wallace Records and Milan's Die Schachtel.

But it's in 2008 that Bachi da Pietra establish themselves as a reference point on the national alternative scene, coinciding with the release of Tarlo terzo. By now everyone knows what to expect from the band, which consolidates its reputation, becoming a recognizable and well-regarded trademark. The opening goes to the murky "Servo", a declaimed monologue that immediately sets the mood for the whole record. The rhythms shift from the slowcore (complete with a post-rock coda) of "Seme nero" to the skeletal samba of "Mestiere che paghi per fare", from the folktronica nakedness of "Per la scala del solaio" to the hyper-rhythmic "I suoi brillanti anni Ottanta", from the inarticulate political, anti-militarist trip-hop of "F.B.D." to the pale, resonant chords of "Andata", down to the usual stripped-bare blues of "Lina" and "Lui verrà", delivered in a Waits-like key.

Tarlo terzo consolidates the duo's reputation through eleven cerebral, tormented tracks, with a dramatic, bleak and dark pace, slowly developed through micro-variations. A musical evolution is noticeable, one that for now leaves the skeletal nature of the structures intact. This record closes Bachi da Pietra's initial trilogy: it's time to draw a line, and that line takes the shape of an unusual live album.

The opportunity arises thanks to an experimental project devised and proposed by Francesco Donadello of Giardini di Mirò, involving the live recording of two unreleased tracks and a few mutant "bachi": songs that, performance after performance, had taken on different shapes compared to their previously released versions. These insect tracks, the result of sound recordings gathered inside the Teatro Dimora l'Arboreto in Mondaino on 19 July 2009, are forever immortalized on Insect Tracks. From the analogue tape recording to the cutting of the groove into vinyl by means of a mechanical lathe, the entire production chain was carried out using the most advanced tools of 1950s monophonic technology. The final result consists above all of a live LP, divided in the classic way into Side A (recorded during the day, with no guests) and Side B (the evening recordings, made in front of an audience).

Alongside the vinyl there's a DVD made under the meticulous direction of Luigi Conte, which allows one to physically get closer to the Bachi's dark hermeticism, at times unsettling. The images sum up the fine day spent in the theatre, with footage of part of the performance, and the entire audio editing process was carried out using thoroughly handmade methods. Insect Tracks unfolds in a claustrophobic way, with bass and drums in the foreground; the dynamics range from piano to mezzoforte without ever truly exploding, the shades always remaining in strict black and white, outlining an urban blues that proceeds in slow motion, a cerebral and emotional post-rock whose slow pace is a metaphor for an ordeal as painful as it is inevitable.

Almost simultaneously comes the Bachi's fourth studio album: the highly anticipated Quarzo marks a first important step towards fuller solutions, as well represented by tracks like "Bignami" and "Dragamine". The urban blues veers towards a first stage of normalization, while still retaining a dark and restless aura. The instrumental "Muta" is blues sublimated, "Morse" works in guitars eager for dissonance, "Notte delle blatte" comes across as heavy and Waits-like, "Orologeria" has an almost jazzy gait, "Fine pena" is the meditative, crepuscular conclusion.

Quarzo loses the sharp characterization of the opening trilogy, and in places inevitably tends to repeat solutions already explored, coming across as dangerously monotone, but it succeeds in drawing the attention of a wider audience, thanks to slightly more accommodating choices. It remains a praiseworthy work nonetheless, one that allows Bachi da Pietra to rise to the role of leading figures on the Italian independent scene, though after five albums the need to introduce some variation on the theme is clearly emerging.

The first opportunity comes with a Split Ep shared with Massimo Volume, released on 15 April 2011 on La Tempesta, on which each band reworks a track by the other, but above all offers a precious unreleased piece. Obviously the most anticipated moment is the new composition by Massimo Volume, who had recently returned to action with the excellent "Cattive Abitudini": "Un altro domani" is yet another sublime offering from Clementi and co., who then reinterpret "Morse", softening it with their own personal approach.

Bachi da Pietra opt for a difficult but rewarding path: first they strip down and sand away at the untouchable instant classic "Litio" without doing it a disservice, then they offer the Ep's most surprising track, an unexpectedly abrasive "Stige 11", which hints at new sonic coordinates for the duo. Never before had Bachi da Pietra sounded so aggressive and direct, and in less than two years equally unexpected confirmations would arrive.

In mid-January 2013 comes the fifth studio album, one capable of marking an epoch-making shift in the band's sound. Quintale sounds like an impetuous thunderclap, sketching scenes of unprecedented, turbulent electricity. Quintale (the title is certainly no accident) is the heaviest record Bachi da Pietra have ever made, the one that frees them from the unsettling minimalism of their early work, recasting them as more conventionally rock performers, thanks to a force and sonic impact unimaginable until now. Powerful, granite-hard sounds characterize practically every track, starting with the stoner force of the knockout sequence "Paolo il tarlo" / "Sangue", and the metal stride of "Coleotttero". But even more astonishing is the presence of a couple of unexpectedly catchy numbers, such as "Fessura" and above all "Dio del suolo", an extraordinary, crystalline ballad, the kind that could make a career on its own, and which in a perfect world wouldn't look out of place in the heavy rotation of major networks. Not to mention the ingenious "Enigma", a candidate for new anthem of the national independent scene. Only the digital version included "Baratto", an amusing (and partly bitter) demand for fair compensation for those who decide to make music their main occupation.

Long-time supporters of Bachi da Pietra might take issue with Succi and Dorella's "rock" turn, especially given the presence of a few more calculated episodes - some will accuse them of normalization - and it's undeniable that with Quintale they come across as less singular and less distinctive than in the past. But the new project appears undoubtedly mature, well-directed and completely focused, produced by the experienced Giulio "Ragno" Favero, who also indulges in guitar duties on a couple of occasions. Another welcome guest is the sax of Arrington de Dionysio of Old Time Relijun, who further enriches the sound of one of the most accomplished Italian records of 2013.

2013 closes with the release of the Festivalbug Ep, containing two tracks from the Quintale sessions ("Tito Balestra" and "Maddalena", actually quite different from the rest of the recorded material), plus "Baratto Resoconto Esatto", a sort of answer to "Baratto". The Ep is distributed as a free download, but for those who want a physical copy, there's a limited edition on screen-printed vinyl.

A second Ep, Habemus Baco (Wallace, 2015), celebrates the duo's tenth anniversary by giving free rein to the metal leanings of its predecessor, though unfortunately also revealing some rather commercial-minded intentions. "Amiamo la guerra" stands out nonetheless, with its intriguing hurricane-like drones and a shuddering drum part. A postcard from their recent bombastic style that makes one nostalgic for their hushed early days (see also no. 47 "Dieci piccoli italiani").

In September 2015, thanks to a collaboration between La Tempesta/Wallace/Tannen, out comes Necroide, which completes the duo's metal turn. The pained, minimal blues that characterized Bachi da Pietra's early days is now only a distant memory: the duo has emerged from underground, shed larvae, soil, fossils and rust, and acquired a tremendous, explosive force. The noir, essential trajectories, the work carried out by subtraction that used to feel narcoleptic, slow, dark, pained, primordial, at times unsettling, now becomes a metal saraband stuffed with mighty riffs. The tomb cracks open, no longer just insects and worms, but living, sweating, restless flesh, exalted by a new rhythm, impetuous, tumultuous, deeply electric - a more conventionally rock turn that is confirmed in these grooves. It's a "Danza macabra" bent on throwing open the "Cofani funebri" and resurrecting all the history that had so far remained "Sepolta viva". Today Bachi da Pietra turn the page for good, playing with vigor and shouting to the world "Black Metal il mio folk".

We witness the consolidation of an evolutionary process that now yields unexpected titles like "Tarli mai" and even amusing, inspired ones like "Slayer & The Family Stone". Succi is astonishing in moving from one vocal register to another, shifting effortlessly between falsetto and scream, the guitars grind away magnificently, the drumming is nothing short of granite-solid. The new guise works - perhaps the sonic choices feel more "already heard" compared to the malaise that oozed from the early records, which were decidedly more personal and distinctive - but it's a necessary transformation, needed to avoid endlessly repeating themselves, and to confirm their status as musically singular protagonists within the Italian independent scene. Not everyone will like it, and the distortion's gain level isn't always directly proportional to the quality on display, but between unstoppable pneumatic-drill tracks ("Fascite Necroide" and "Feccia rozza" are metal to the bone) and "ballads" of tremendous added value ("Virus del male"), Necroide will still provide plenty of satisfaction both to the two protagonists and to the fans we can only expect to keep growing, following the band's decidedly more accessible sonic turn. It's an absolute triumph of 80s rock riffs ("Voodooviking"), and despite a few dispensable moments (we would have skipped that vocoder on "Apocalinsect", intended as a kind of soul-metal experiment), these new eleven tracks stand as another significant piece within an artistic path that keeps growing ever more "explosive".

While Bruno Dorella continues his labyrinth of collaborations, Giovanni Succi manages to get his solo career off the ground, one that sees him engaged in a highly personal form of singer-songwriting. He draws particular attention from the public thanks to Con ghiaccio (2017) and Carne cruda a colazione (2019), both released on La Tempesta Dischi.

In 2020 Succi also becomes the main songwriter and voice of the Apocalypse Lounge project.

Given the times, naming a new album Reset (2021), backing up the choice with other clues (a move to the Garrincha label and the addition of Marcello Batelli - Non Voglio Che Clara, Il Teatro Degli Orrori - to "corde grosse e spippoli", quoting directly from the band's own press materials) would suggest a significant change on the Bachi da Pietra front. Theirs is a reality, that of the tight-knit and ever-active duo Dorella - Succi (see their solo records and activity in other parallel projects), which while still "tied to the earth" has not shied away over the years from introducing some variations into their intriguing musical path. From the bare, alcohol-soaked blues of their first steps, to the heavy stoner of "Quintale", all the way to making black metal their own folk on "Necroide". Always in the name of "rock n' roll", of course. A renewed faith on "Reset": don't be fooled by its "Rock Is Dead" kind of title - the message inside is quite the opposite...

In Reset - with its handsome medieval cover art, perhaps a legacy of Succi's "L'arte del selfie nel Medioevo" - the sonic stride is less heavy, the sounds less ferocious. But that takes nothing away from the drive and inspiration, or from Succi's ironic, merciless writing. In the Bachi da Pietra zoo, the insects (present in the final mantra of "Umani o quasi" and in the Queens Of The Stone Age-like clattering of "Insect reset") have learned to coexist with the occasional "Pesce veloce del Baltico". Conceived "before 2020 asked for the bill", Reset is an interesting reflection on the role of the musician, on their current situation. A line of reasoning into which Succi inserts Bachi da Pietra. The process kicks off with "Di che razza siamo noi", opened by the line "Chi vi credete che noi siamo / per le pietre che portiamo" (a quote/reworking of the line by Battiato found in "Up Patriots To Arms", itself taken from "Come potete giudicar" by Nomadi), and reaches its conclusion with "Ciao Pubblico", which recalls "baratto@bachidapietra.com", the sarcastic track from the digital edition of "Quintale". In between, the discourse stands out in the liberating "Bestemmio l'universo" ("L'avrei fatto senza troppi casini, piu commerciale piu easy..."). It's stimulating to reckon with the new material: among which "Meriterete" stands out, the band's first potential radio hit. Having reached their seventh album, Bachi da Pietra lighten the outer shell but leave the soul of the project untouched: there seems to be no Reset capable of denting them.

Contribution by Alessio Belli for "Reset"

Ride the wave of great music

Add OndaRock to your favorite sources on Google Discover. Don't miss our reviews, milestones and latest news straight in your feed.

Follow on Google