ETRUSCHI FROM LAKOTA - Non ci resta che ridere

The Pisan outfit Etruschi From Lakota formed in 2011 around singer Dario Canal, with Simone Sandrucci and Pietro Marini on guitars, Diego Ribechini on bass and Luigi Ciampini on drums; producer Nicola Baronti pushed them in the right direction on their first EP "Davanti al muro" (2012) and their debut album "I nuovi mostri" (2013), an already wildly abrasive hard-folk effort (cfr).

Their high point, however, is “Non ci resta che ridere”, an “agrarian” concept album that turns into a rock operetta built around the musings of a farmer, Abramo, grappling with the pressures of contemporary life. It's carried out with a coherent country-blues attitude and a sense of humor worthy of Frank Zappa and his disciples (the Bonzo Dog Band above all, and the like).

The Etruschi's vaudeville kicks off with the banjo stomp of the title track, performed and sung with a Luciferian swagger worthy of Ac/Dc, followed by the thoroughly theatrical "Abramo" (in which the vocalist plays multiple characters over the most classic Isley Brothers-style rhythm'n'blues groove), and works itself up in the frenzied dance of "Mezzogiorno di grano" and the cow-punk with squealing harmonica of "V.I.V.O.".

The chorus of supporting voices also carries real weight, veering from rousing stadium chants to a more docile, watchful counterpoint, reaching a peak of commercial parody and barbershop vocal harmonies in the blues-rock grammelot of "Cornflakes".

The cruelest track, both ideologically and stylistically (and also home to the album's only metal outbursts), is "Collo rosso", while the fatalistic undertow belongs to the spectral gospel (turning into bitter stomp-blues) of "Il contadino magro" and the slow, crystalline saltarello of "Erismo".

The final dramatic set piece is the closing "San Pietro", which depicts the protagonist's death to the sound of Appalachian bluegrass, a kind of improbable pop-core reworking of Bob Dylan's "John Wesley Harding".

Like the Troisi-Benigni comedy it mangles in its title, it's a successful bittersweet contrast between a before and an after, a small inner ordeal that reverses the usual order, starting from fear of the future and arriving at the memory of the past, all built on the lively rhythms of acoustic instruments (also 12-string guitar, mandolin, violin, with very measured electric distortion). Even more striking is Canal's elastic vocal skill, at once angry, irreverent, tender, confessional. There are a few rough edges in the writing, with lyrics that occasionally feel disjointed.

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

04/02/2015