BANCALE - Bancale

A soporific, skeletal mood, like Bachi Da Pietra on codeine. Urban blues, but of a city strung out on neon lights. Lights that blind the mind, returning acidic visions, stale polaroids of a reality now falling apart. And, in response, a voice that comes from far away, almost swallowed up by its own weakness, by its own "inner" disaster.

"Coproduci" is an introduction that leaves no doubt about the will to spread an indigestible truth about the world around us, telling us, bluntly, about its short-circuit of production-consumption-death. Cccp are now a distant memory, and things have become even more "dangerous". We thus enter a vortex that is psychedelic but doesn't open the mind — instead returning it to the darkness of its own caves, to a back-and-forth of sounds-noises that reek of sickness ("Corteccia").

A little over twenty minutes is enough for Bancale to stage their gaunt delirium. But perhaps that's still not enough to truly leave us stunned. So the sheet-metal percussion of "Crepa", having exhausted a discourse aimed at pushing the blues toward industrial shores, gives way to muffled sobs ("Crinale"), because this music still has something to metabolize before it can properly transfigure this human wreckage, this grim limbo of suffering and despair.

"Dolore", on the other hand, aims at a true "un fiero e rabbioso esistere/ di sopportazione e limite". At the moment, that limit has not yet been crossed, so it's a bit like staring at an impassable wall without even attempting to climb it.

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20/04/2009