Fuzz Orchestra - The Strategy of Tension

Anno Domini 2007, the OndaRock editorial staff awarded album of the year to one of the most anticipated comebacks around, that of Throbbing Gristle. Close behind came “Person Pitch” by Panda Bear and “Copia” by Eluvium. Of the record-shelf debut of Fuzz Orchestra, a creature born from three ribs of Bron Y Aur, there is no trace whatsoever; a modus operandi that then went on to define OndaRock's coverage right up to the very recent “Morire Per La Patria”: an album of overflowing beauty, about which it was impossible to stay silent.

It would have been enough to talk about the pure and simple music, about a multidimensional crushing-doom violence and about the claims that sit as close to the Italian Resistance as to acts of terrorism, about the phenomena that accompanied it and perhaps even the stories that preceded it or that it drew on as inspiration in the present we now inhabit. For once we have to admit we fell short; Fuzz Orchestra deserved more. Listened to again years later, the self-titled album and “Comunicato N°2” still spin the heads of those who loved them, as if no time had passed at all. Rare stuff, in these throwaway times. We should have had the foresight to predict the great future of Fabio Ferrario (analog manipulations), Luca Ciffo (guitar) and Marco Mazzoldi (drums), and we should have done it in good time. Ideally before Marco Mazzoldi left the band (even though he was superbly replaced on the latest album by the tireless Paolo Mongardi). Ours is a delayed explosion that the cynics will inevitably link to the recent hype surrounding the trio (and their sprawling tour), but we beg forgiveness. To make amends, we conducted a long interview with Luca and Fabio at the Nolebol Festival in Rome – complete with an exclusive photo shoot to follow.

Three years ago, in a much-discussed review of Mi Odi published in Rumore, I described you as follows: “if Bologna Violenta found meaning (read into that what you will) and Calibro 35 found ideas of their own, you take the podium with an interesting and engaging set”. So, what are the affinities and differences between the “comrades” Calibro 35, Bologna Violenta and yourselves in reaching your (more or less) third album?

Fiè: Fuzz Orchestra, Calibro 35 and Bologna Violenta prove that at certain times some ideas are simply in the air; in this case, drawing on cues stolen from Italian cinema of the '60s and '70s. The differences can be heard: three bands playing different “genres”, each drawing – in its own way – on three different genres from that vast sea that is the cinema of that era. An important affinity between such different realities is – in my opinion – the fact that none of us got stuck on the formula of our debut album, but – on the eve of our (more or less) third album – all moved off in other directions.

Fiè: I think playing live is one of the pillars of any band – at least within what we can call “rock”. As such it's a necessity, something a band can't do without once it decides to leave the rehearsal room and start letting other people hear its stuff. That implies both collective work and personal choices, for instance in terms of your day job (but not only that). It's not easy to be on the road all the time. After so many shows, I'd say that deep down you really have to love it. I do. Our set lasts 40 minutes. In the remaining 23 hours and 20 minutes of the day, you sleep, eat, drive, talk, unload, set up and break down gear. Days that are all the same and all different. For me it's essential to do all this with people I actually enjoy being around… if that weren't the case, the story wouldn't last long.

Luca: I think that for a musician, with few exceptions, the live setting is where the meaning of making music really comes through. So it's natural for us to play as many shows as possible. We'd do it regardless, even if it weren't, as it is, the only way to make a bit of money from what we do.

What I always notice most, whether it's a blazing show or a mediocre one, is the evident passion and dedication at the heart of Fuzz. How much does the exchange with the audience matter to you, compared to the sheer personal pleasure of playing what you love?

L: The exchange of energy is essential; it's not just about the size of the crowd, but a lot – maybe more – about the energy in the room. I'd like to be able to say that playing in front of 10 people is the same as playing in front of 300, but it isn't.

Fuzz Orchestra successfully recovers a craftsman-like dimension of playing, a real closeness to the song and to writing, but often filtered at a second remove from mere jazz-style noodling, or approached with a more strictly modern attitude. How much painstaking logic goes into your compositions without showing, and how much of a “metal” background, meant as instinct, is there?

L: We put a lot of care into writing our songs, we file them down and correct them until we're fully satisfied; that's also why we're rather “stingy” with our output. Metal has always been present in each of our listening habits, it's part of our background, and we saw a huge number of shows back in the '90s; I, in particular, went to every one that came through Milan, since I always got in for free. That said, I think it's only with Paolo's arrival that metal really made its concrete appearance in our music.

Despite the agony of Italian cinema, the Italian scene of the sixties and seventies continues to draw the interest of new generations looking for non-standardized inspiration. Often that inspiration comes through music. Through bands that add fragments, samples or entire covers into their work, like a sort of generational “Best Of” for all those kids who wouldn't sit through 81 minutes of “Capriccio all'Italiana” or the two-plus hours of “La Proprietà Privata Non è Un Furto” even if tied down, yet that minute and a half of soundtrack sends them into raptures. Honestly, how much genius, sloppiness, inventiveness, plagiarism, homage and mockery do you think there is in this whole cinematic revival?

Fiè: That Italian cinema is in its death throes is certain, and frankly it seems fitting for a nation of dimwits like Italy: we deserve Massimo Boldi! (Albertone – the old Alberto Sordi – is off limits!). It happens often – and it always pleases me – that people ask me which films the audio samples I use come from. I admit that my criterion for choosing samples is to exclude films that are too well known, in what I might call, from the depths of my own ignorance, an educational approach. As for this “revival” in general, I'd say that – as with everything – there are highs and lows, but there's no arguing about taste… As far as I'm concerned – as the “mixer” of that material – there's certainly sloppiness, maybe inventiveness, and definitely homage, but never plagiarism: I openly admit to stealing.

Fuzz Orchestra and the Years of Lead. Giorgio Bocca wrote that “Every spectacular act of major terrorism produces aspiring terrorists”. While stressing that here, if we want to talk about terrorism, it's only in a sonic sense, can we consider Fuzz a politically engaged band, even though the only audible words are always entrusted to others rather than to a singer?

L: Rather than terrorism, I'd talk about the political struggle in Italy between '68 and the early '80s: that's the subject that interests me and that I studied in depth from 2001 up until fairly recently. Looking back on those readings, I can tell you that what fascinates me about those years is the fact that the masses acted and reacted, perhaps not always in the most effective way, but that not everyone passively accepted the abuses of the economic and political powers that be. Italy was a far more advanced and civilized country back then than it is today.

What do Fabri Fibra, Povia and Afterhours have in common? That if you talk to any of the three, sooner or later they all end up describing their choices as a “provocation”. The album title is a provocation, this or that lyric is a provocation, the cover art is provocative… You've been described by yours truly as closer to Disciplinatha's “Abbiamo Pazientato 40 Anni Ora Basta” (also provocateurs, in their own way) than one might (dare to) say. How do you relate to provocation?

L: Personally it's a subject that interests me very little, not just in music but in everyday life; I prefer to speak, and to hear people speak, in a direct and clear way. I don't see our album's title as a provocation but as a statement of fact. By association of ideas, right now I find myself thinking about how none of the Ilva workers in Taranto went to vote in the recent referendum on the plant's closure. Nothing could be more “Morire Per La Patria” than that…

L: For us it's been difficult; our music clearly doesn't interest the 2 or 3 “big” Italian underground labels capable of shouldering a record's production and promotion on their own. On the other hand, we really like the idea of co-production, which still allows for wide distribution across the country in an almost automatic way, and it's a practice that has contributed a great deal to the growth and strengthening of that network of labels, musicians and venues that I personally appreciate a lot and that I think is a distinctly Italian peculiarity.

Your first album came out, if I'm not mistaken, on Wallace and Bar La Muerte – a now-defunct institution of the independent underground – which also gave a leg-up to Bron Y Aur's Vol. 4. What memories do you have of that relationship with Bruno Dorella? And above all, how does it feel (if it does at all) to see his Bachi Da Pietra released on La Tempesta Dischi – perhaps the label furthest, in every respect, from the common idea people had of Bar La Muerte? Do you think it could be counted as yet another defeat for “certain” niche music? Does Dorella have mortgage problems too, and did his sister Oriella cut off his allowance?

Fiè: You're not mistaken. Fuzz Orchestra's second work, “Comunicato n° 2”, also came out – among other labels involved – on Bar la Muerte, which now roams the green pastures of independent-label heaven. Bruno had his reasons for shutting it down. I don't have "memories" of Bruno because he's still alive (touch wood) and we often run into each other. We first met in the study halls of Milan's Università Statale, where everything happened except studying. We got to know each other better later on, when Bruno was organizing concerts at the La Sede social centre in Vigevano. The first time I saw OvO I was blown away. I was struck by that powerful, primal and above all original way of playing drums. One great solo project of Bruno's was Ventolin Orchestra: the shows were fantastic. Many, many years ago I also saw the embryo of what would later become Bachi Da Pietra. Seeing their latest album come out on Tempesta is a pleasure for me, if it helps give greater visibility to a band as good as Bachi Da Pietra, which I hope will happen.

What I like – and what works – about so-called niche music is the human relationships it creates, the total expressive freedom of the musicians involved, and the willingness/courage to try not to make crap music – which, admittedly, is an entirely subjective matter… certainly not the limited chances of exposure and recognition for genuinely worthwhile work. I don't have mortgage problems – thank God – but I do have bills, food and all the expenses needed to survive in this sick, by now post-capitalist society. Apart from a lucky few, it seems like we're all pretty much screwed. Deciding to work as a musician – let's say an unorthodox one – is a choice that's not only tough but also “revolutionary” in a society no longer built on Work but strangled by it.

L: Good old Brunetto, I've known him since university because we were in the same Modern History course and we were both Motorpsycho fans. This was back in 1993, so we've known each other for 20 years now, each following our own path with affection and attention for the other. I'm happy for him, I hope he spreads his music as far as possible because he deserves it. I'd like this music of "ours" to reach as many people as possible, because I really believe it could be appreciated and enjoyed by far more people than it currently is. You saw it too at Angelo Mai: you just need to bring it to a wider audience, and it's clear there's interest and attention out there. I think a lot of us, maybe especially those who aren't in their twenties anymore (or even their thirties), are sick and tired of just talking among ourselves. Obviously I mean widening the audience on our own terms, doing things the way we want, preserving our dignity, both personal and artistic.

After the usual 200/250 dates in Italy, will you be taking “Morire Per la Patria” abroad too, maybe to the USA like in 2010?

L. We'll be touring Europe shortly, and our idea is to do it at least a couple of times a year. As for the USA, we'd love to follow up on the very positive experience of 2010, but it's a bit more complicated given the different kind of investment involved: ideally we'd tour with a band from over there…we'll see what happens.

Now let's talk about Paolo Mongardi. There's no doubt he's one of the best drummers currently around, and not just in Italy. So he's the best possible replacement for Marco, but he's not just some circumstantial session player either. After a show, I even saw a kid grab the CD to get it autographed by him alone. How much do you think his presence will influence your future artistic and compositional direction? Aren't you afraid of a “Dave Lombardo effect” – whether you like it or not, the cause behind Slayer's discographic rise and fall?

Fiè: Paolo is a great drummer, that's true. Playing with him is a real pleasure. He's also someone I enjoy spending time with, even though he's a huge pain in the ass. After Marco, he was the only possible choice as Fuzz's new drummer… in certain physical features, and with those friar sandals, they even look alike. Paolo has never come across as a circumstantial session player, not even from the first rehearsal together. His arrival has already changed, and will keep changing, the band from a whole lot of angles, starting with the musical one. That's vital lifeblood for a band like Fuzz Orchestra, which doesn't want to keep repeating itself but rather renew itself with every record. One characteristic of Fuzz is that every instrument stays in the “service” of the musical – and also “narrative” – writing of each individual piece: and on this front too, Paolo has understood the spirit of the musical theory/inspiration behind Fuzz Orchestra and fit into it perfectly. As for the autograph business, I can't really say. Not that I'm aware of – not that it would be a problem; but who knows what we really see when the god Bacchus drags us into his dizzying fumes?

L: Paolo became a full member of the band right from the start, we've never thought of him as a session player, and meeting him happened in completely natural circumstances (a short southern Italy tour with Fuzz and ZEUS!). As for the autograph thing, although it's not particularly relevant to us, I can guarantee that the few who do it generally ask everyone, so we don't "fear" anything. But I'd say we don't fear anything in general, we threw ourselves into this music thing with a very positive attitude and certain worries never even cross our minds.

Now let's talk about Luca Ciffo. In Fuzz Orchestra's early incarnations you were often seen with a white or cream-coloured Gretsch, if I'm not mistaken, which then disappeared entirely, replaced by the Gibson Diavoletto. The question is: is the Gretsch still alive and well? Jokes aside, why such a radical choice, have you devoted yourself definitively to the gospel of Tony Iommi, or was the other guitar more of a leftover memory from Bron y Aur?

L: I've been devoted to the gospel of Tony Iommi since '89; let's say the Diavoletto took the place of its predecessor thanks to the meaner, beefier sound it puts out, which seems better suited to our current sound.

Question from Prof. Ferrario. Instead of the usual gushing about your undeniable merits: will you make it out alive to the next record? Above all, they say you learn more from your own mistakes than from your own success; judging by the ever-increasing number of shirt buttons left undone after a gig, I'd guess that out of the three of you, you're the Master of Ceremonies: so, what's something you've learned from one of your screw-ups?

Fiè: I'll definitely make it there, not least because I've promised myself I'll do a fourth Fuzz record and then abandon forever this sentence they call life. From the number of undone buttons you can only deduce that I'm a fat guy with a plebeian metabolism. If I played drums I'd melt away. I do/say plenty of stupid things, every day. But there's wisdom in every stupid thing, and a fool in every wise one. So it is and so it shall be — as He says — until the end of Time.

Some time back you got quite angry with Rumore, over some broken promises from editor Claudio Sorge. Personally I really appreciated the frankness and honesty of saying it without mincing words, but the question is another one: now that for a moment things seem to be turning in the right direction, XL is promising you a cover on "New Italian Music," but there are the usual familiar faces via Universal Italy plus three or four more "unlucky" ones, including you. How do you react?

L: I think today I'd have far fewer illusions about the possibility that the opening of certain "doors" might depend on this or that journalist. Personally, I try to have as few expectations as possible when it comes to other people; that's not where I find the meaning of what I "do." To be specific, it seems to me that Rumore is, to date, the magazine that puts the most effort into highlighting a certain "scene" that we feel part of. On the other hand, if XL called us for a cover, I'd be happy about it: it would mean that a certain section of the press has finally opened its eyes to what's most alive around here. In fact, I find it absurd that this hasn't happened yet... I mean the opening of eyes, not the cover itself. I no longer feel that my integrity depends on that; I think that if your message is honest, you can bring it almost anywhere. Then there's also the question of visibility: as I said, I take no pleasure in staying in the niche, hidden away; the more radical fringes of the movements at the end of the '70s wanted not just bread and jobs but also, and maybe even more so, champagne and caviar: I feel very close to them: why should certain things always be enjoyed only by the usual few? Then again, everyone has their own threshold: obviously I wouldn't go play at a Casa Pound event, a political party rally, or for a multinational corporation.

Dario Ciffo (violin on "La Proprietà"), Enrico Gabrielli (voice, clarinet, sax and flute spread across "In Verità vi Dico" and "Il Paese Incantato"), Xabier Iriondo and Edoardo Ricci (guitar and sax respectively on "Viene il Vento"). Have you ever thought about bringing them in, maybe as guests, for some of the bigger dates on the tour?

Fiè: Yes, we've thought about it. Thought about it, and even started talking about it, and it's not out of the question that it might happen in the future. The various difficulties come both from scheduling clashes between people all busy with different projects, and from the age-old logistical problem of seats in the van. When we can, we already travel with a sound engineer, and a fifth element with a full back line wouldn't be able to squeeze in even if they were skinny. When someone with no mortgage worries decides to buy Fuzz a proper big van, "Fuzz Big Orchestra" will be born, with Gabrielli/Ricci on winds, Xabier on second axe and Dario on violin (if only!).

All photos in this interview are by Massimo Monacelli

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