Tu giurami che noiNon moriremo mai
(from “Grande”)
Afterhours are one of the few bands from the Italian alt-rock movement of the 90s that, over time, have managed to establish themselves well beyond their original niche. Constant line-up shuffles have guaranteed a steady flow of fresh ideas and contaminations, and today they've become a genuine all-star band, boasting the presence of Xabier Iriondo, Roberto Dell'Era (both already prominent figures in well-established parallel projects) and Rodrigo D'Erasmo, one of the most sought-after Italian multi-instrumentalists.
With Fabio Rondanini of Calibro 35 replacing longtime drummer Giorgio Prette, and the versatile Stefano Pilia (Massimo Volume, In Zaire and much more) stepping in on guitar for Giorgio Ciccarelli, we're almost certainly looking at the best Afterhours line-up ever.
It's in this context, rich in technique and ideas, that “Folfiri o Folfox” was born: a torrential record (we're talking about a double album with a full eighteen tracks), complex, ambitious, that resembles nothing Afterhours have produced before (a sign of just how much weight each individual member's contribution carries), while at the same time pursuing a deliberately experimental approach.
In the days leading up to the album's release, Manuel Agnelli made several statements presenting it as a concept album about death and rebirth, and as a work meant to push the boundaries of Afterhours' songwriting and sonic exploration further still.
The death in question is that of Manuel's father, an event that permeates the entire work starting with its title: Folfiri and Folfox are two medical protocols for treating colon cancer. The memory of his father surfaces right from the first words (screamed in rage) of the touching “Grande,” a tear-jerking account of a broken promise — that of a bond that, by intention, was meant to last forever.
References to what happened loom large in the elegantly jazzy textures of voice and piano on “L'odore della giacca di mio padre,” in the title track, centered on the aforementioned medical protocols, and in the full-bodied “Ti cambia il sapore,” a bitter account of the toll chemotherapy cycles take on mind and body.
The desire to push further musically leads to a demanding record, with results that are often excellent (the almost-stoner free-form instrumental jam “Cetuximab,” named after a cancer drug), but also with a few inevitable missteps (“San Miguel,” the one genuinely forgettable episode).
The first track to strike for its immediacy, the catchiest and most accessible, the true instant classic of the bunch, is “Non voglio ritrovare il tuo nome” (accompanied by a video released in late May), a kind of new “Non è per sempre.”
But the registers at play are many: we move from gutsy moments (“Il mio popolo si fa,” “Qualche tipo di grandezza,” “Fa male solo la prima volta,” “Fra i non viventi vivremo noi”) to others that are more rarefied yet still charged with tension (“Lasciati ingannare”) and drama (“Il trucco non c'è”).
Rounding out the picture are midtempo tracks steeped in disillusionment (“Oggi”), fragile acoustic interludes (“Noi non faremo niente”), desert blues (“Né pani né pesci”), and instrumentals where D'Erasmo's violin takes center stage (“Ophryx,” plants belonging to the orchid family, the ones pictured on the album cover).
Given its length and the heterogeneity of its material, "Folfiri o Folfox" could be loosely compared to a "Are You Afraid of the Dark?" stripped of the generational anthems that made it immortal (you won't find a new "Male di miele" here), where cut-up techniques and post-adolescent fury give way to an acquired maturity that allows the band to tackle serious, strongly unifying themes.
There's a great wordiness animating the new lyrics, with Agnelli continuing to imbue the entire band's work with himself, pouring his own experiences and his own life into arrangements capable of anchoring the album's development to a strong idea. Afterhours records inevitably keep talking about him.
Less immediate than any previous release, but enormously rewarding once you grasp the right keys to interpreting it, "Folfiri o Folfox" grows exponentially with repeated listens and establishes itself as a work destined to stand the test of time, a true contemporary classic, the ideal successor to evergreens such as "Quello che non c'è" and "Ballate per piccole iene".
The closing track is entrusted to the choral "Se io fossi il giudice", surprisingly prophetic in anticipating Manuel's next role, that of the much-discussed X-Factor judge: but that will be a new, umpteenth story, still to be discovered, for a figure who never stops (and never will stop) making people talk about him, for better or worse.
Scava sotto i buoni C'è un cadavere Sotto i cattivi un angelo Ucciso da un'ideaDicevi che la gente ha ciò che merita
E tu eri mia
E noi soli non
Saremmo morti mai
(from "Non voglio ritrovare il tuo nome").
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10/06/2016
This article is an English translation of the original Italian text by Claudio Lancia, published on OndaRock.it. It was translated with the help of artificial intelligence, under the editorial responsibility of OndaRock's editor-in-chief, Claudio Fabretti.