SANTO NIENTE - Il fiore dell’agave

Santo Niente is the moniker under which Umberto

Palazzo operates, without a doubt one of the most fertile minds of the Italian indie rock scene

Italian. Since 2004, with three new entries, the band arrives at this new work after

the EP “Occhiali Scuri Al Mattino”, proving they remain true to a raw

yet sharp rock sound, drawn to sinuous melodies, flashes of punk-noise and dark-wave

raptures. Recorded live in the space of about ten days and under

the supervision of the excellent Fabio Magistrali, “Il Fiore dell’Agave” is an

honest and, in its own way, courageous record. It knows how to speak with sincerity of a hidden

desolation, buried beneath the asphalt of the metropolis and ready to seize the soul.

Palazzo's lyrics betray a burning passion, one that also chooses to

speak in abstractions, without ever losing itself in vulgar intellectual

nonsense. Lo-fi as a possible example of a radical paring-down of a

rock sound already well used to not hiding behind a finger. Rather,

aware of belonging to a glorious tradition, one it doesn't fear submitting to

in order to (re-)give it lustre and to belong to it. It's no surprise, then,

the Joy Division redone by Died Pretty

in that gem “Luna Viola”: darkness and desert visions, within pulp

tribal. An obsessive circularity that in "Spirituale" chooses to vanish behind

hard-helix inflections, and in "Prima Della Caduta" amid the folds of a

aching confession that breaks free into an explosive psycho-punk acceleration. The

"Nuove Cicatrici" preserve the memory of deep wounds, the hidden side of

an emotional state teetering on the edge of the abyss, even as it tiptoes in

on the threshold of a languid, dreamlike instrumental texture (which we'll find again

in the indie-tronic pop of "Candele" too).

But the imploded rage

also gives way to more carefree moments determined to assert the drive and energy

of punk ("Facce Di Nylon" and "Le Superscimmie"), or certain atmospheric

shades of indie-pop ("Occhiali Scuri Al Mattino", here decidedly more

groovy than the version on the EP). There's also room for a

modern take on dark, loose and uninhibited ("Santuario"), and for the Mediterranean-flavored

dance of "L'Attesa". Finally, from a home recording comes the

ecstatic bolero of "Aloha", the most secluded hermitage from which to observe with

disenchantment, the collapse of society and, despite everything, keep on hoping and

believing in love: "I feel like I'm disappearing/ becoming immaterial/

forgetting and being forgotten/ isn't so bad at all. Not that it's bad here/ but

it concerns me/ I love you, damn you/ I love you all".

How can you not believe him?

Ride the wave of great music

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30/04/2026