DITZ - Never Exhale

The first time I saw the name Ditz mentioned in the music press was during an interview with Lambrini Girls, when the English duo named them among their favourite bands. Sometimes all it takes is a single sentence to suddenly ignite the hype around a musical project. The two bands share the same geographical background. I don't know if you've ever been to Brighton. I love seaside towns, even the ones that force you to go running with the wind cutting across your face, even the ones where we Italians avoid swimming because the water is perpetually at hostile temperatures. But Brighton has its colourful beach huts, essentially small metal garages lined up right on the beach, perfect for a bit of guitar strumming in front of a lit barbecue on a Sunday morning around lunchtime. Walking through the streets of Brighton, you can't help but notice the sheer number of music shops: a concentration per capita unheard of in Italy. And then there are the packed summer beach parties - it's clear just how central music is to this place south of London, which is why almost every month we read about some interesting next big thing coming from there.

"Never Exhale" is Ditz's second album, opened by the sound of a car starting up, the Volvo V70 used during their previous tour. So begins a hallucinatory journey, which in the first track takes the shape of a horror soundtrack, sinister and noisy. Two minutes of terror defused by the dance-punk drive (very much in vogue among the new generation, see Fat Dog and the like) of "Taxi Man", rightly chosen as the lead single. Callum Francis's voice locks in perfectly with these sounds, urging the drive onward: "So I get back in the car/ And I tell him to keep on driving" is the slogan repeated to the point of exhaustion. The following "Space/Smile" is just as lively, another chapter that burns itself out in a couple of minutes, while the anxious weight keeps building. In "Senor Siniestro" the vocals are initially detached, before the explosion that hits around the track's midpoint, a prelude followed by electric shocks and guitar riffs.

If the record ended here, it would already be a great listen, but instead six more tracks await, further defining a work that sits ideally halfway between the socially furious post-post-punk of post-post-punk of Idles (with whom they've recently toured) and the even more mangled version of it found in Gilla Band: keep an ear on "Four", you'll see I'm right...

The atmosphere grows ever more strained as the record plays on: in "God On A Speed Dial" the unease is almost tangible, just as in the dramatic, claustrophobic crescendo that defines "Smells Like Something Died In Here". The tension doesn't let up even in the closing stretch, between an "18 Wheeler" that borrows from the noise-rock of Sonic Youth, the gothic touch of "The Body As A Structure" and the final detours marked by the closing "Britney", shaping a sonic synthesis that - we're certain - will prove just as powerful when translated to the stage.

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06/02/2025