Simona Gretchen - Requiem for a dream

When it comes down to it, it's always the old story of coherence. The unity of intent between the author and their work. Provided, of course, that anyone still cares about this unity. We do, for instance. If you feel the same way, take one last timely dive into the life of Simona Gretchen, the creature of Faenza native Simona Darchini, born in 1987. She's wrapping up, right now, what we might call a five-year plan à-la Germs for conquering the upper echelons of the independent circuit. We say à-la Germs and not, say, à-la David Bowie (“…we've got five years…”), because the twenty-six-year-old from Romagna, besides being etymologically punker than the Thin White Duke, leans more toward those who try and fail (or at least think they do) than toward those who probably wouldn't even try if victory weren't already guaranteed. So, just as the mission could be declared accomplished, thanks to a handful of exceptional songs on the latest “Post-Krieg”, an uncomfortable record that will surely be talked about in the months to come, Simona announces the death of her alter ego Gretchen. This, she says, will be her last record. Considering we're not talking about Ozzy Osbourne here, we'd say she's worth believing. But for now, let's focus on the present. Simona Gretchen, who five years ago thought too loudly and today, like few others - we'd say none, given the current crop of token women out there - manages to write her own epitaph, recounting in a crooked, blunt, solid, evocative way everything hidden beneath the surface of quiet living.

Let's get straight to it: what was the gestation period that led to the idea behind this “Rise and Fall of Simona Gretchen”? Above all, considering that David Bowie “killed” Ziggy at a moment when Bowie-the-artist was in excellent health (both artistically and commercially), doesn't this feel a bit like suicide for Simona Darchini-the-artist?

Suicide can be frightening. But once you announce it, you can't afford to lack the courage to see it through; as much as I trust myself, I prefer never to trust myself completely. Suicide aside, ending things here with Gretchen is as natural as writing “Post-Krieg“ was. If disappearing amid fireworks, rather than out of a lack of inspiration, became the primary concern of those making records, a rather interesting scenario would open up ahead.

Let's not beat around the bush: over these years I've watched you struggle behind people whose entry into the music world still baffles me today. I've seen you get awards in complete anonymity while others were tipped as "rising stars" — maybe thanks to a prestigious production or a well-known collaboration. The question is: how much has all of this festered inside you, and how much did it influence your decision to kill off Simona Gretchen?

What's out of your hands, for better or worse, you can only accept. I don't believe, and I don't suppose you do either, that Simona Gretchen deserved to exit the stage as a loser. I simply did what I could, within the limits of what was in my hands, to prevent that from happening. If there was ostracism, then writing "Post-Krieg" is probably the best response to give to whoever's guilty of it.

Closing things out with something well made can give me a lot more satisfaction than letting myself get worked up over what doesn't seem entirely fair to me. The rest of the world couldn't care less what seems fair to me, and that's perfectly fine. That said: I would have killed off Simona Gretchen with the release of this record regardless — it has nothing to do with how much whatever you're referring to has festered in me in the meantime.

How do you see "Gretchen Pensa Troppo Forte" almost five years on, in light of the new record?

It's gathered more than I expected. Sometimes I think it's not so bad, as a debut album. Other times I want to burn every copy in circulation. I suppose that's normal.

The intro to "Post-Krieg" has to do with the timing and mode of modern electronic epic; especially Crystal Castles: was that your idea or Lorenzo Montanà's, given he's long been used to working with these sounds through Tying Tiffany? Is that your voice we hear?

That's not my voice. I brought in a friend, Sabina Spazzoli, an actress and theatre director, to record the words of the intro and the first part of the lyrics to "Everted (part III)". The lines she recites are a cut-up of my notes. It references an essay on the Slavic poet Simić, who, as the text says, reminds us that the work of art lies in clarity of vision, and it introduces "Post-Krieg". The intro is therefore a note that primes the listening of the record, revealing, through the reference to Simić's poetics, the fact that "Post-Krieg" is a kind of concept album, and that its strength, if any, should be sought in the original idea it grew out of.

Want to tell us about the other collaborations on the record?

Sure. Eeviac and Karamazov have made "Post-Krieg" a record that's aesthetically fantastic; both the LPs and the CDs will come out with their artwork. I'm also very happy that Paolo Raineri, on trumpet in Junkfood, accepted my invitation into the studio: he gave a spine-tingling contribution to the instrumental coda of the record. Besides him and Sabina, the album also features Lorenzo Montanà, who recorded the guitar parts and took care of the artistic production, Paolo Mongardi, who arranged and recorded the drums on every track, Nicola Manzan, on violin on the instrumental "Enoch" and on the second section of "Everted", Silvia Valtieri, who recorded the piano parts, and Gianluca Lo Presti, who lent us a hand throughout the making of the record.

In its own way, the closing, three-part "Everted" also carries an epic swagger (the second part is downright martial), but this time the approach is far more considered and elaborate, and maybe even a touch self-celebratory. Still, rather than the overwrought progressive school, it seems to wink more at kraut-rock, at post-rock, and at certain moves by Isis. Would you agree?

Kraut, but also certain prog, and especially Isis, are part of what I listen to: it doesn't surprise me, in fact it pleases me, that you pick up on certain influences in "Post-Krieg". And I fear the whole record is fairly self-celebratory. But that's not an oversight: when you're writing your own funeral, you do it with a fair amount of care. It has to be said that being self-celebratory, but tastefully so, isn't exactly easy. Still, it's always better than boasting about a low profile that borders on plain and simple mediocrity. Look at all the Brunori-types infesting the independent scene who, miraculously — if only it really were a miracle: how it happens, unfortunately, is all too clear — even manage to get people talking about them and sell records. The thing is, we can't fix the state of things by just talking about it among ourselves: as I'm answering this, someone's probably already thinking "envy". The only thing worth cultivating is patience, not envy! Hoping that the poetic vein of certain generations eventually runs dry on its own. In the meantime, though, I'm sending my requiem to print.

I can see you're fired up, and I'm happy to follow along. A slightly mischievous question: back at the time of your first record, talking about you, Enrico Molteni told me he found you not very incisive — if La Tempesta's deus ex machina were to change his mind about "Post-Krieg", would you go for a resurrection, a rethink, or would you answer him the way Clark Gable answered Scarlett O'Hara in Gone with the Wind?

It's par for the course to voice opinions on things people claim to have heard, when perhaps the only thing they vaguely remember is some bad photo somebody uploaded online, or ten seconds of a YouTube view — I wouldn't overthink it: Enrico Molteni probably didn't find my hair colour very incisive, and he hasn't listened, nor will he ever listen, to my first record. Let alone the latest one. If he ever happened to hear it — the new one, not the old one — I'd be quite happy to hear his opinion on it. I don't have any particular fondness for the Scarletts, but not for the Clarks either. I'd rather talk to Enrico about it. I'd even have about ten questions to ask him.

And yet the moment, at least in record-label terms, is very much La Tempesta-centric.

Who cares? The moment is La Tempesta-centric, you say? True, but it won't stay that way forever. La Tempesta has shown it has backbone, absolutely, but it's also put out some terrible records. Whether that's to avoid upsetting someone who was better off not upset, or just by mistake, I couldn't say. Let's talk about the latest ODM record, just to give an example. Which, among other things, has been scandalously praised everywhere. Does anyone remember Colore Perfetto, whose hands Umberto Maria Moltheni Giardini also got dirty with? And has anyone noticed the abyssal difference in depth between the first and third records by Teatro degli Orrori? And yet today almost every magazine devotes more pages to them than before, not fewer. Finally: the deeply widespread assumption that everyone, absolutely everyone, has their price is so glaringly obvious that even if I'd still had a shred of doubt about it, the Rise and Fall of Simona Gretchen would have cured me of it by now.

I don't know about you, but I haven't read an interview like this in years. In the feel-good climate around us, we'd have already earned half a dozen tedious "How grumpy!" comments by now. So let's get back to the record, which is a better subject. The title track is one of the album's most incisive and immediate songs: what does Dopoguerra represent for Simona Gretchen?

The way you talk about me, I sound like an interesting character. If I die at 27 (that is, next year) and by then you've grown tired of writing reviews, you can always write my biography. Getting back to your question: it's a desolate wasteland, but one that holds its share of illuminations. Maybe it's the few hours of sleep, or the many hours of fasting. Or maybe it's that in every wasteland there's always a Tiresias worth listening to.

One of the striking things about "Post-Krieg" is its length, barely 26 minutes. And yet listening to it, you get a sense of nihilistic post-punk completeness. Where does this urgency come from, and this choice that runs against the current trend, now that everyone throws in at least three interludes, two intros and seven instrumentals to pad out their record?

Because I didn't want to leave anything superfluous in "Post-Krieg". I wanted it to be dense, but also pure, in a sense. I didn't care how long it would end up being, I cared that it contained everything essential to say what I wanted to say. Not a comma more, nor a comma less. Ambitious, maybe, but that's what I had in mind.

In the review I wrote that you sound as if Mara Redeghieri were collaborating with Lento, Fuzz Orchestra or Death Of Anna Karina, and I was referring above all to "Hydrophobia", but I also described you as an outsider through and through (on the first record there were influences ranging from Virgin Prunes to Branduardi). Usually someone like that gets labelled an "artist" just to cut things short - how do you define yourself?

"Artist" is a word I keep hearing put down lately. As if being an artist were a bad thing, when it's a status only others can grant you - or rather, it's not enough to grant it to yourself. Whether I can be called an artist too, or not, I don't think it's up to me to say. I've never really nursed dreams of glory... it's more that when I feel like doing something, I do it. Or at least I try to.

So, let's take a moment now to talk about Simona Darchini: tell me about the birth of Blinde Proteus, how it's evolved up to now, and its future intentions.

Blinde Proteus, which after all is more a collective of musicians than an actual label, was born less than a year ago, with the release of "Achab", an EP by Elettrofandango - a band I've followed since their debut. I founded it shortly after co-producing the latest Death Of Anna Karina vinyl, having reconnected with another old acquaintance on vocals - Andrea Ghiacci. I'm proud to have taken part, alongside more than ten other labels, in releasing Fuzz Orchestra's "Morire Per la Patria", as well as in the FULkANELLI project. And I can't help but mention, at least in passing, the rare elegance of the Ornaments' double vinyl. As for the future, I'll keep trusting my instinct. My future is a black hole that could hold everything or nothing. So I've decided to make some kind of decision once I'm done with the promotion of the album and the live shows. In the meantime, I want to have a look around - beyond this unreal country, but also within it. I'll say it plainly: it's not disaffection with the music scene that's making me close the Gretchen project. In the meantime, in May, I invite anyone curious to get a sense of who we are and what we do to come to Bologna, for an evening that will see Lleroy, myself and Fuzz Orchestra on the same stage.

Right, so what should we expect from the new live shows?

Freeing myself, for a start, from the constraints of having a bass or an electric guitar slung over my shoulder for most of the live set. I'd like to put my whole body, as well as my mind, in service of this new live dimension. With a record like this, as you've rightly guessed, you can't risk lacking physicality.

I've always liked the stage name you chose. And it always made me smile when people asked you the "meaning" of Gretchen ("Margherita", in German). I've always loved that tragic sense of defeat it carries, expressed nonetheless with pride and nobility, which suits a certain tragic romanticism so well - not for nothing does Gretchen ascend to Heaven in the end. Maybe the answer is already in the question, but why were you drawn to Goethe's character? At times, listening to you, you seem much more Faust than Gretchen.

I'm much more Faust than Gretchen. But to describe something you need to take a stance and a point of view, you need to impose some distance on yourself. Otherwise you're better off writing in a diary and keeping the result to yourself. Gretchen is an excellent vantage point onto Faust. But even though I certainly resemble Faust more than Gretchen, I have indeed found myself being Gretchen. In a far more literal way than you might imagine. Anyone (well, maybe not literally anyone, but allow me the generalization) can be Faust or Gretchen, or even both, at different moments in their life. I like to think that Goethe's greatness has something to do with that too.

The photos for this interview are by Mirko Pezzi.

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