Marlene Kuntz - The catharsis of Italian alt-rock

Nearly twenty years after “Catartica”, the essential debut of the band from Cuneo, Marlene Kuntz release “Nella tua luce”, their ninth official album. The right occasion to take stock with Cristiano Godano, in a long interview in which he presented the new work to us exclusively, drew up balance sheets, voiced opinions and analyzed the state of the Italian alternative scene today and in the past. What emerges is a portrait that is surprising in many respects: a Godano who is likeable and extremely forthcoming, ready to knock down many of the clichés unjustly built up around his band. From the conversation with Cristiano comes pride at having written important pages of Italian rock, but also the pleasure of getting a few things off his chest. We've divided the chat into four thematic chapters… 

The new album

Good morning Cristiano, just a few days after the release of your new album, having reviewed and analyzed it, we'd like to exchange a few opinions with you. First of all, what does “Nella tua luce” represent in the artistic journey of Marlene Kuntz?

In some ways, and this isn't just a convenient line, it's simply the ninth album of our career. In other ways I think it's the album of disenchantment with a certain mood that, to put it briefly and a bit broadly, has pervaded and somewhat irritated us since the advent of the Internet. It's the album of renewed energy and serenity.

An album that marks a newfound freedom from a production standpoint, with Riccardo Tesio (the band's other longtime guitarist) handling most of the artistic aspects…

More than newfound, I'd say... found. Nobody ever forced us to do anything on previous albums anyway: in some ways they were always more co-productions than actual productions. With the decision to self-produce (and Riccardo was wonderfully decisive when it came to the sound) we wanted, for a number of reasons, to take on full responsibility for once. It was about time, really. Assuming it was even desirable or necessary.

An album partly built around carefully chosen literary references, and partly devoted to observing society at large...

My literary references are never meant to show off some generic, foolishly vain intellectualism that risks coming across as a pose: much more simply, among the tricks I use when I'm not quite sure what to say in a lyric is to just stay calm and engage with something artistic (be it reading, listening, watching), because I know that sooner or later art will give me some kind of spark. Sometimes I feel like naming that spark outright (even just because I want to dig into it and make it explicit, by quoting it), as a sort of inclusive game, with the pleasure of maybe introducing someone to something that excited me. In literature that kind of game is fully understood and appreciated, whereas in rock it always seems like... you're showing off. As for the so-called "social" side of things... that's just how it turned out. And I couldn't really say why. What I do know is that I find stalking (the subject of "Adele") disgusting and detestable, and therefore compelling; while the fate of the homeless (in "Catastrofe") has struck and wounded me for years.

In "Osya, amore mio" you show how love can be stronger than a totalitarian regime. Can a piece of paper still be guilty today?

I'd be inclined to say no... Unless your question is specifically about Russia: in that case maybe I wouldn't rule it out entirely. Over there, it seems, even nowadays people don't mess around...

Do you think the recent mini tour focused on your early work might have influenced the writing of some of the new songs?

Who knows? I don't have the faintest idea.

Which other Marlene album would you compare "Nella tua luce" to?

That's the kind of question I just can't answer. Would it be terribly bad form if I told you it seems to me that, this time too, we managed to do something "different" from our previous work?

Tell us a fun anecdote, or something significant anyway, about the recording sessions.

What's significant is that this is, hands down, the album I spent the least time on in the studio, and I confess I quite enjoyed that. We're an extremely tight-knit band, and we're very proud of that. That cohesion means we trust each other blindly. So once it was settled that Riccardo would handle everything to do with the sound, I completely stopped worrying about how it came together, and simply went to the studio to record my parts. After that I'd go home and leave him to do the dirty work. Then again, they've always trusted me with my own dirty work on the lyrics... As for funny things, there are plenty, I'd say. Anyone who's followed us these past months on our wall on Facebook has noticed our playful streak, and has certainly seen the short videos we posted online. Definitely the interviews I did with Riccardo and Luca (posing as some mysterious correspondent for a website from Cuneo), which we later put out, were among the most fun moments (without a doubt for us, but also for everyone with a sense of humor who was happy to discover this more extroverted side of ours).

And indeed we find you unexpectedly active online! We've been able to follow every stage of your album's preparation step by step: was this a natural choice, or one forced on you by the evolution of certain communication tools, the Internet and social networks in particular?

In using the word "disenchantment" in my first answer, I was unconsciously already working through the reasoning I'm about to offer you: from an initial phase in which we struggled to digest the negative sides of the web, especially the way some people's behavior degenerates online, we managed to wipe the slate clean and try to find the right way to make sense of it. Like it or not, you have to go through the web (I'd have gladly done without it, because my idea of rock, and of art in general, is an old-fashioned one, tied to mystery, to the allure of the rocker-writer-artist who's somewhat unreachable, to - how else to put it? - a kind of deference toward whoever gives you so much in terms of fascination, suggestion and intellectual generosity, and so I always liked living it as a fan, but it's clear that nowadays that just doesn't work anymore), and so it's better to try to find a way to live with it. Now, more than just living with it, we actually have fun with it, and with laughter we're burying the enemy, who is gradually stopping being such a pain in the ass. Our Facebook page is a healthy, relaxed and witty community, made up of friendly people who bring positive energy. Exactly what we needed and hadn't managed to draw out before: also because decent people don't shout online, and often prefer to be part of a silent majority that doesn't show itself and therefore goes unnoticed. But they exist, and thankfully there are a lot of them.

And in any case: we figured that to really make people understand that our new album was coming out at the end of August, two or three weeks of announcements and posts beforehand wouldn't be enough... We needed something substantial to avoid getting lost in the vast ocean of the web. And so we started... 4-5 months ahead of time.

Are you still experimenting with the guitar? Looking for new sounds, new solutions, maybe unusual ones?

I don't think I've ever really been an experimenter. I think, more than anything, what I've always chased, with Marlene, is my/our own expressive voice, my/our personality and my/our singularity. Which doesn't necessarily go through concepts like avant-garde and experimentation. Quite the opposite, actually...

Pedal enthusiasts would love to know your ideal pedal setup, and which guitars you prefer.

For a while now I've been going through a very minimal phase with pedals (though it won't last much longer). A few guitars tuned in unconventional ways are enough for me to get a tone that isn't too overused. As for pedals, then, I simply have a Line 6, a delay, a booster, and the channel switcher for the Fender Hot Rod (I'm in a Fender phase, after years spent with Marshall...). But as soon as I can afford it, I'll go back to using both, like I used to. Favorite guitars? In the classic Fender/Gibson dichotomy, I think I split my loyalty pretty evenly, with touching magnanimity 🙂

Your own persona is always widely analyzed, but we know much less about Riccardo and Luca: what records are currently in heavy rotation on their respective players?

I don't know anything about Riccardo, but honestly, he's spent the last few months in full immersion on our new record. As for Luca, I know he's a big fan of Kurt Vile, Jonathan Wilson, and the latest Depeche Mode. And other stuff I just can't recall right now.

Alongside you, the figure of Davide Arneodo is taking up more and more space...

He's a young guy who, I hope, we're helping to grow in the right way. He spent the whole summer in Berlin, by his own choice, and I think he'll benefit from it in terms of an apprenticeship that generates modern, up-to-date contaminations. I'm confident he'll be able to bring us great new flavors.

I recently reviewed the new records by Marlene Kuntz, Massimo Volume and Santo Niente back to back, and I found myself suspended, as if in a timeless bubble, spun backwards in time. An all-in-all pleasant sensation. And I found more vitality, energy and desire to explore in your records than in most of the ones made by much younger Italian bands. Do you get the same feeling?

I have to say I don't know. Because I lack a point of comparison with other, younger Italian bands... Unfortunately, I'm not going through a phase where I listen to Italian music. And maybe I never fully have been, at least for the past decade or so. Still, if you sense a desire to explore in us, that makes me especially happy: personally I'm totally convinced of it, so I totally agree 🙂

It would be nice to be able to explain what goes on behind the scenes of the Italian alt-rock scene, the stuff you don't see. For instance: does it happen that Godano gets on the phone with a Manuel Agnelli or an Emidio Clementi? Or do you only run into each other by chance?

Not out of pure friendship, no, maybe because that kind of full-blown friendship doesn't really exist. But there's broad, genuine respect (and it would be a real shame if there weren't, given that we all know very well how hard it is to be a musician in every sense in this country), so of course, if we need to reach out for some kind of communication, we do so gladly, without hesitation and without filters. And asking each other, with real interest and not just for show: "Hey! How's it going?"... If instead we run into each other somewhere at festivals or shared gigs, we definitely get along well together, and it often turns into a good, honest get-together.

Do you ever exchange opinions, ideas, advice with each other? Or does everyone go their own way?

Sure: it can definitely happen that we swap opinions, and why not, advice too. It's also true that we (at least the three you mentioned) are experienced, seasoned pros, so we know how to make the most of it, either putting it to use right away or keeping it in mind for some future use.

Which bands from your generation have you stayed on particularly good terms with?

Believe me: it would be quicker for me to look for bands we don't (or no longer) click with. And even if I really tried, I'd struggle to find any right now. We get along well with everyone we run into again, I think. We're certainly great friends with the whole (former) CSI crowd, with Teho Teardo, with Umberto Palazzo, with Federico Fiumani, with Giancarlo Onorato, with Mauro Giovanardi, with Uzeda, with Giorgio Canali, with Massimo Volume, with Franz di Cioccio, with Roy Paci, with Afterhours, with Teatro degli Orrori, with Piero Pelù, with the former members of Bluvertigo, with Subsonica. And I really do apologize to anyone I'm forgetting to mention...

A young Italian musician told me in a recent interview: nowadays the hard part isn't breaking through in the provinces, it's getting out of the provinces. What do you think of that statement? You're from Cuneo — how has the situation changed over the years for young artists looking for a bit of visibility?

According to the received wisdom of Internet enthusiasts, the opposite should be true... Isn't it precisely the Internet that supposedly lets anyone become known worldwide by tearing down physical barriers and so on? It should have been much harder for us, mailing out our little TDK cassettes...

We seem to be chronically afflicted with provincialism, yet the reality is that while Icelandic (Bjork) or Norwegian (Motorpsycho) artists make their name singing in English, over here Manuel Agnelli or Pierpaolo Capovilla only reach a certain level of success once they decide to switch to singing in Italian. You chose that path from the very start — a path that really gets your message across if you have something meaningful to say, but that clips your wings somewhat if you try to break into foreign markets...

The answer seems pretty complex to me... The problem seems clearly tied to our pronunciation. You mentioned two Nordic bands, which are geographically and culturally much closer to England. We Italians, with no hope of improvement as far as I'm concerned, sound unmistakably Italian when we sing in English, with all the exotic, sun-drenched baggage that carries. And I fear that, one way or another, the result — especially if you're trying to convey lyrics dense with lyrical-spiritual intensity (as opposed to singing disengaged, deliberately shallow crap on the level of a "heart-apart" rhyme) — comes across to English ears as both awkward and demanding. So they don't feel like digging deeper.

Why can't even the best and most original Italian bands (I'm thinking of Verdena, for instance) break through abroad? Do the record labels themselves not really believe in it? Or are our products simply not built for export?

It's a complex issue. And in any case, I think the only real chances belong to those who have some "Italian-ness" to offer. Paolo Conte, for instance. Who, however — or rather, precisely because of that — isn't rock. Then again, sure, there are bands that manage it (I'm thinking of Lacuna Coil, although that's a genre — metal, right? Or is it nu-metal or whatever? — that, without wanting to offend anyone, I think I can say has fewer lyrical pretensions

You even tried your hand at putting together an album in English. How did that experiment go?

Completely pointless. And to think that some time later I was even lucky enough to have Nick Cave correct five translations of my songs from "Weightless"; and that I then recorded them under the friendly supervision of Rob Ellis, drummer for P.J. Harvey... And yet nothing: even with those tracks nothing happened, even though we did try (half-heartedly, I admit) to get them played here and there in England. And to think, moreover, that those tracks even feature Warren Ellis on violin, and he really loved the music he'd worked on... Plus the production by Rob Ellis and Head, so an internationally-minded sound... I think that's pretty exhaustive, and I think my attempt at an explanation is a reasonable one. The usual cynic, of course, will simply think our songs are crap. Ca va sans dire.

I know you listen to a huge amount of music. What do you like about the current Italian independent scene? And do you think there actually is a "scene" today?

I've already admitted my gaps when it comes to current Italian music. And I confess it bothers me a bit.

I do want to say a couple of words about Management del Dolore Post-Operatorio, though. They're friends of mine, and they're terribly likeable and a bit out there. I have a kind of soft spot for them because they were the band that won the contest at the Upload festival in Bolzano, where I was artistic director and a juror. So in my small way I helped launch them, and I'm very happy about that. Plus I like what they're attempting and the way they carry themselves.

Ah... there's also jazz. Well, Italian jazz has some genuine excellence to offer. And Stefano Bollani sometimes allows himself to come close to genius. That bastard, as an English musician friend of mine would say...

Almost twenty years on from "Catartica", shall we try to take stock of the Marlene adventure? Do you feel you've built something important, something that's earned you immortality?

Well, we've certainly built something important, and we've definitely become a stable (yes, immortal indeed) presence in the minds of those who've come to esteem us, love us, appreciate us. As for so-called official immortality, though... let's say that when I see on a site like yours that at least one of our records is considered a "milestone" by your authoritative judgement, then maybe I'll try to convince myself of it. Or at least give it some thought. Want a mood-softening emoticon? Here it is 🙂

Every time you play "Sonica" or "Nuotando nell'aria" though, don't you realize you wrote the anthems of a generation? Are you proud of certain songs?

"Anthem for a generation" is an expression that doesn't really suit our temperament, which is built on intimacy, caution, discretion, and in some ways a low profile. And I say that without false modesty. But if you think it applies, I'll certainly take pride in it and say thanks. In the meantime... yes, of course I'm proud of those songs. People still ask us for them, twenty years on (sometimes to the point of exhaustion, and even a bit provocatively, to convince themselves we're still the same bears we once were): how could I not be proud of having managed to achieve so much?

In the early part of your career, was being seen as the Italian Sonic Youth more of a burden or a help?

I never really thought about it, given that it was us, out of love for them and out of genuine feeling, who went around shouting from the rooftops that we loved them and that they influenced us. In that sense, it's always been endlessly amusing to have the definite, proven feeling that, later on, among those who accused us of no longer being like them, there were people who had actually discovered them through us. Ridiculous, isn't it?

What was your reaction when you found out that "Lieve" would be included on the live album by C.S.I.?

A lot of joy, and a lot of emotion.

If you had to do that today for an emerging band, who would you pick, and which song would you choose?

I spoke none too kindly about the Management a moment ago, so to avoid contradicting myself, I'll say them.

Today, how might Marlene (or if you prefer, Anna from "1° 2° 3°") be portrayed? Has time turned her into a disillusioned woman? A woman who's found fulfilment, with a career and a family? An addict? Someone who never stops fighting for her ideals?

Without a shadow of a doubt, someone who never stops fighting for her ideals.

There was Marlene influence, more than ten years ago, on the debut of Baustelle, and even more so on last year's release by Operaja Criminale. Years go by and many still cite you explicitly as a source of inspiration. How does it feel to take on the role of inspiration, a point of reference for entire generations of musicians?

I don't know if what I'm about to say will sound arrogant: honestly, I'm not really aware of this kind of influence these days. For a while now, I haven't had the impression that we're the most cited reference among bands. Once upon a time, sure. Nowadays, I have no idea. Either way: how could one feel, if not proud?

And do you like Baustelle? A band that starts out telling risqué stories about restless teenagers, and within ten years ends up producing an elaborate concept album dense with literary references. It makes me think a bit (allowing for obvious stylistic differences) of your own evolution. Some even claim that Francesco Bianconi grows to resemble you more and more over time, even physically...

I admit that when it comes to them too, I have the same gap I mentioned before. And all I can do is keep regretting it. I had dealings with Francesco once in particular, in Cremona, where we were both guests at the same event. I definitely sensed his respect, and I hope he sensed mine. Either way: I'm ready to bet on the fact that they're a valid band throughout their whole output. And certain nasty potshots from the web aimed at them certainly bother me. The Italian underground is full of envy, and that's a shame: there's a need for solidarity, or at least a good "live and let live" attitude. Wars among the poor are pathetic and get nowhere. All the more so now that records don't sell anymore. We're all in the same boat, and feeling envy, or even just resentment, serves no purpose. For my part, I never speak badly on our wall about anyone I don't like. In fact, I don't mention them at all. I only speak well of those I like.

You've played thousands of shows all over Italy. Is there one you remain particularly attached to?

I'd have to think about that for a good few minutes… Sure, the two times we played on the same bill as Sonic Youth…

Do you feel that, all things considered, Marlene Kuntz deserved wider success?

Yes. And we're still fighting not to give up on eventually achieving that, someday. Otherwise, for instance, we wouldn't have gone to Sanremo. But that's just one example among many possible ones.

If you had to hand a Marlene Kuntz album to aliens as a representation of your music, which one would you choose?

And what do I know about aliens' tastes? If I knew them, I'd try to figure out which one would suit best. I love them all.

Opinions

Has the idea of a solo record ever crossed your mind? Or would the idea of a Cristiano Godano stripped of the rest of Marlene Kuntz simply not make sense?

Crossed my mind… Yes, of course it has. But… only crossed it. So I haven't looked into it any further. Being one hundred percent devoted to Marlene matters most to me, first and foremost. And as long as my contribution to Marlene's story remains a priority, I won't venture into solo endeavors.

Am I wrong, or have you never happened to write songs for other artists? Was that a deliberate choice on your part, or has no one ever asked you to?

I wrote a lyric for Gianni Maroccolo's album “A.K.A.U.” (Gianni Maroccolo) — which I later reworked and reused for our “Deriva Finita”, on “Bianco Sporco” — and I collaborated on a track for Marina Rei, offering parts of a lyric which she then supervised and used some of (the title: “Colpisci”, which is also the title of the album).

You've often been annoyed by fans' comments about certain overly arty or slow turns Marlene Kuntz has taken. It's fair enough for a band to evolve over the course of its career, but it's also true that, if we take Radiohead as an example, even as they kept changing skin they still managed to make every album better than the last. With Marlene, on the other hand, it happened (just to give one example) that an album like “Uno” certainly wasn't on the same level of excellence as “Il vile” or “Ho ucciso paranoia”. What's your take on some of the criticism you've received over the years?

Since we're talking about opinions, I think you'd agree with me that you should have said “in my opinion” (and if you want another emoji to show I'm relaxed and amused about it… here it is :). Look: Alberto Campo, certainly no fool in the history of Italian music criticism, gave a solid 9 to “Uno” in Rumore. Loads and loads of our fans adore that record, which in my view is beautiful and among our best. And, frankly, I'm sorry it got roughed up by some critics. It's a very inspired record, and it features two monsters like Paolo Conte and Greg Cohen. Equally frankly, I don't understand how, to give just the first example that comes to mind, your site can praise to the skies music like that of Miracle Mile (made of delicate, pristine, refined and even rather pompous sounds, with songs full of melodies bordering on what's usually considered watered-down, and with nods to the sweet, sweet Prefab Sprout, whom I've always loved… and in fact I like Miracle Mile too) while ours gets ignored. I have a few ideas as to why, but never mind. Lastly: Radiohead, from the “Kid A” turning point onward, don't seem to me to have changed all that much from one album to the next. Quite the opposite, actually. And, incidentally, the record of theirs from that turning-point chapter that I truly enjoyed the most is the most overlooked one. Namely “The King Of Limbs”.

But surely you must have reflected on a lot of this criticism, given that at a certain point, let's say from “Virtual hospital stays” onward, Marlene Kuntz decided to take a step back, to return in some respects to the old ways. Do you recognize yourself in this arc?

Let me stop you there: absolutely not. We never make music with the idea of proving something to anyone, other than the beauty (at least for us, even if the reactions of some people to the release of our records generally disappoint us enormously) of our attempts to outdo ourselves. I remember your review of "Virtual hospital stays" very well… You said we wanted to reclaim a place of prominence in the Italian alternative scene… Well, no, we're really not interested in that. The Italian alternative scene has more or less snubbed us for a long time now (for most people, even "Che cosa vedi" is already considered a flop) so, from our point of view, it's "them" who betrayed us a long time ago 🙂 If over time they come to realize that we've also done cool things afterwards, great, it would make us extremely happy; if not, so be it.

But is there at least something you wouldn't do again today? Would you play "Dirty white" exactly the same way? Would you still close "Weightless" with the long "Spora n° 101", an instrumental-experimental digression?

Sure, why not? What could I do differently for "Bianco Sporco"? I wouldn't have the faintest idea. That album was conceived, like all the others, at the peak of our abilities at that particular moment. Speaking again of the scores given to albums, I remember Blow Up, certainly not gentle (to put it mildly) with a band of our kind, giving it a solid 8. And 8s in that magazine have always been very rare. And then there's the closing "spora" of "Weightless"… I listened to it again some time ago: I think it's fantastic and I'm proud of it. And I wonder how many bands in Italy are doing that kind of thing…

Sanremo no longer scares bands that traditionally have little to do with Sanremo. These days everyone goes there and manages not to lose their identity — besides you, I'm thinking of what Subsonica, Afterhours, Elio and Giovanardi have done. What did the Sanremo experience leave you with?

The memory of a lovely week spent on the Riviera, all expenses paid, in one of those sumptuously decadent hotels (you could feel the ghostly presence of early-20th-century Russian aristocracy), in a surreal atmosphere that's hugely entertaining for a detached, alien outside observer — much more entertaining than certain tired, overused vibes from parts of the Italian underground rock scene. That said, I'm not sure Sanremo has really become acceptable for bands like ours… Judging by how certain biased audiences generally react, I'd say the opposite is true.

Would you go back?

As far as having fun goes, absolutely, in a heartbeat. From a strategic point of view, though, I couldn't say: you'd have to factor in the effects of a repeat offense, which for a lot of harsh critics could be very serious and could genuinely hurt us.

Don't you get the sense that in Italy the crisis of the music market is leading artists to collaborate less and less? Everyone increasingly tends to their own little garden, and cross-pollination is dying out.

I don't know what to say… The crisis you're talking about is something very complex, and it has to do with the tragedy of music in the age of the Internet, a place which, incidentally, I genuinely love for its potential. (I should point out that Nick Cave used that very word — tragedy — in passing, in an interview about the Internet. So it's not exactly some solitary obsession of mine.) And this crisis isn't only Italian. What makes it worse is that in Italy there are many things that aren't working, and it's all fairly exhausting. But you see, luckily we Marlene are beyond all that: we've absorbed the lesson of the various difficulties I briefly mentioned above so thoroughly that we bounced back from the abyss of disillusionment, and for the past two years we've found ourselves with a brand-new energy, one that knows how to deal with the new dynamics rather than fight them. And we have no intention of getting sucked into other negative spirals. We've always been fairly individualistic, but, as I explained earlier, you'll never get an attitude of ostracism or troublemaking from Marlene. We're fair, reliable, not remotely envious, more humble than people think, and transparent. In other words, we're not two-faced.

What stops our country from having a major festival like Primavera, Glastonbury or Sziget? They tried with Heineken Jammin' Festival, but it didn't last long…

We're a country that's not rock at all (by rock I mean, loosely speaking, everything that isn't crappy commercial music, or jazz for the bourgeoisie, or yacht lounge music, or Billionaire-club dance music, etc.). Sure, there are people interested in rock, but a lot of them probably hang around the underground, and unfortunately in those circles people wage war on each other with jealousy, conspiracy theories, hyper-criticism, self-referentiality and, in some ways, ideology. But beyond that: we're simply not a very rock country, and I don't have a less blunt explanation to offer. Or maybe I could say that around here there's a lot of poseur-ish preening, and there aren't that many people who actually enjoy spending three days camping, risking rain and mud, at a rock festival. Sharm-el-Sheikh is a better bet, in the end, for a lot of Italians. I'm deeply convinced that the very same festival, with the exact same lineup, if it were held at Primavera one week and then in Italy the next, would be, over here, a bloodbath for the organizers: let's say a few million euros in losses?

At Heineken Jammin' Festival the only thing that always worked without fail was Vasco Rossi. Let me make one thing clear: I come entirely and completely from the underground, and the music I listen to nowadays — and always have — is exactly the kind you (also) cover. That's precisely why I have a problem with all the nonsense in the Italian underground: because it saddens me.

Let's touch on a sore subject: let's talk about downloading. You've already made your opinion clear in "Virtual hospital stays". But don't you think that in today's musical jungle, free downloading might help a lot of new bands get known?

I think it's an illusion: as I see it, the biggest effect the Internet has had is a downward levelling of all the variety in the musical world, so that in this vast sea there's everything, big fish and small fish alike, with no distinctions, no differences in status, no deference, no mystery. This loss of mystery is steadily draining charisma from music and from the people who make it. There was a time when it was wonderful to know nothing about your favorite artists until their next release: you didn't see them, you didn't hear from them, you barely read anything about them. And with every new tour it was fantastic to see how time had changed things for them too. In this vast sea, if it's already hard for established bands to stay alive, active and visible, it's certainly even harder for new ones to emerge. Because anyone can throw their music online. At every latitude and every longitude. And I think it's reasonable to assume that, beyond confusing the ideas even of the most hardened music lover, this excess of supply — largely pointless in most cases (does the world really need all this music from all these bands? And if so, shouldn't we stop and think about how the Internet keeps making us more and more dissatisfied, constantly pushing us toward an illusory search for something new? Just as we're no longer able to read a single page on any website from beginning to end, immediately swept off to another one by some hyperlink that's really just bait to put more advertising in front of our eyes? They, the masters of the Internet — your Google, YouTube, Facebook and so on, filthy rich off the back of us — know everything about us and about every single move we make online) — this excess of supply, I was saying, can't be satisfied by any demand. To me these seem like unequivocal arguments, but I'm well aware not everyone sees it this way. Lastly: I believe there's a connection between all this and the fact that, as I see it, the albums that come out these days tend to be forgotten quickly, they're no longer landmark records, they don't last. How many of the albums that you journalists consider albums of the year, these days, do we go back to and listen to with the same passion and frequency with which we used to listen to the records we'd bought — not downloaded — back before the Internet existed? Having said that: go ahead and download all the music you want. I have never, I repeat, never tried to tell people: don't download, it's not ethical, etc. I'm not an idiot, and I'm well aware that this is reality. I would only ask for a different kind of respect for musicians' work. Less stupid envy. Less resentment. Less cynicism. That seems reasonable and human to me.

Low album sales are pushing many musicians to be constantly on tour. Could this perhaps be seen as a positive thing, a renewed closeness between artists and audience that music needed?

I can't see the opportunity, and especially the necessity, of this so-called rapprochement. I mean, it doesn't seem to me that it was missing before. People play live more because records don't earn us anything anymore. Full stop. And since the problem affects everyone, it just shifts downstream: if everyone needs to play more shows, the live offer becomes immense and monstrous, and there's no demand capable of satisfying it (you'd have to imagine people going to see, like, two different gigs a night, Monday through Sunday, to put all the bands in a position to make a living from it). This also seems unequivocal to me, and yet I know many people don't want to face this reality, hiding behind arguments that strike me as mostly ideological.

What records have you had on your turntable at home lately? Do you stick close to your roots, things like Sonic Youth, Pixies and My Bloody Valentine, or do you like to go looking for new stuff? And what are the most interesting new things you've dug up in recent months?

Hahaha, no, I'm not stuck on Pixies and the like! I'm extremely curious: from last year, 2012, to now, I believe, and I'm not exaggerating, I've listened to at least 300 rock records and at least 150 jazz records. Let's see... This year I've been enjoying: Arbouretum, The Soft Hills, James Blake, Meat Puppets, Hiss Golden Messenger, Jenny Hval, Speedy Ortiz, Matmos, Darkstar, obviously Nick Cave, obviously Chelsea Light Moving, Ty Segall, Chelsea Wolfe, The Mavericks, Crime & The City Solution, Jim James, True Widow, Steve Mason, Eels, Parquet Courts, Diana Jones, Kurt Vile, Mark Kozelek/Desertshore, Wolf Eyes, Yellowbirds. In 2012 I remember enjoying Grizzly Bear, Cat Power, P.J. Harvey, Laurel Halo, Otis Taylor, Heritage Blues Band, LV. Is that enough? 🙂

But there's plenty of great stuff in jazz too. Some of it fantastic (Roscoe Mitchell, Henry Threadgill, Mary Halvorson, Ivo Perelman, to name the most iconoclastic).

So what happens now? After presenting the album at Feltrinelli stores, there will be three live dates in November. Then will a proper tour follow in 2014?

Exactly right.

Will the Beautiful project have a follow-up, or will it remain a one-off adventure?

For now it's more the latter of the two...

Can you reveal any future projects you're currently mulling over?

Next year will be the twentieth anniversary of "Catartica", and I think it would be nice to think it over and celebrate it. We'll see.

And we'll see what they have in store for us for the fateful twentieth anniversary of one of the most important albums in the history of Italian rock.

In the meantime, let's savor the fine tracks of the new "Nella tua luce" and wait for them on stages all over Italy.

Ride the wave of great music

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