Marlene Kuntz

Let a Wave of Words Vomit Over You

MA-MA-MARLENE is the best!

Bend over ninety degrees, I ride the trend

let me into the intelligentsia

(from "M.K.")

In the first half of the 90s, all the young Generation X kids who loved grunge and hardcore–noise were looking for national heroes to worship: a new band to watch grow, to support from the very start, not a leftover from previous eras. Our country was (as usual) chronically behind the musical currents coming from the United States and Great Britain, so as the 80s drew to a close the Italian independent scene was still aping new wave and post-punk. Florence positioned itself as a rival to Bologna as a driving hub, thanks to the simultaneous work of Litfiba, Diaframma, Neon, Punkow and Moda. At the start of the following decade, Italian labels (spurred on by the worldwide success of Nirvana, Pearl Jam and the like) were finally willing to venture into our country's basements to sign the best names on the underground scene. People started to believe in and invest in those sounds, sensing the potential for profit. Young musicians immersed themselves in the American imagination, building solid frameworks onto which they could graft their own distinctive traits.

Marlene Kuntz worshipped Sonic Youth, but in their own compositions they skilfully blended experimental-noise attitude with a typically Italian taste for melody. They came from Cuneo, hardly the centre of the universe, and by 1994 they already had a solid apprenticeship behind them, built on a string of more or less fortunate gigs and a handful of EPs. Cristiano Godano (the band's frontman and lyricist) had already made a name for himself with the short-lived Jack On Fire!, who even played the Arezzo Wave stage. Alongside him were the other guitarist Ricardo Tesio, drummer Luca Bergia and bassist Luca Viano, who from "Il Vile" onwards would be replaced by Dan Solo. The Godano/Tesio dynamic seemed built with scientific precision: as brash and charismatic as the former was, the latter was (at least on the surface) shy and reflective. Together they fused guitar lines that would go on to set the trend on our shores, prompting many fans to dig deeper into the great bands from across the ocean. Indeed, quite a few would later admit to discovering Sonic Youth or Pixies only after reading the first reviews of "Catartica", which invariably dwelled on the roots of Marlene's sound.

in free flight over years now gone

and it's not easy, you should believe me,

to feel you here with me because you're not there

I'd like, you know, to hear you cry

even a single tear, for just a few moments

(from "Nuotando nell'aria")

There wasn't much money around, and Godano, after some early, semi-DIY productions, launched into a kind of proto-crowdfunding by placing an ad in a local newspaper asking his fans to help fund the recording of a new EP. Through a lucky set of circumstances, that record would become their first album. A review in Rockerilla of the band's third EP threw open the doors to national attention, and it wasn't long before they made contact with Gianni Maroccolo, formerly of Litfiba and at the time bassist for Csi, who was busy launching the C.P.I. (Consorzio Produttori Indipendenti) label, for which "Catartica" would become the very first release. Maroccolo handled executive production, leaving artistic coordination to Marco Lega, who proved essential in steering the band toward the right sounds, methods and musical instincts. Lega would become a kind of Marlene Kuntz answer to Steve Albini, helping the quartet sharply define the sound that would go on to become one of the emblems of the Italian musical decade.

The most stunning synthesis lies in the miracle of "Nuotando nell'aria", where the four musicians distil rage and melody into the five minutes that would make their band's fortune. A love story that has ended but lingers in the protagonist's memory, the suffering over a woman now lost, and a musical fabric that builds to a final crescendo of overwhelming emotional intensity, embodying the despair of the narrating voice. The other six minutes destined to become legendary belonged to "Sonica", the band's true musical manifesto: a noise-drenched triumph that for years would be the peak of their live shows, built around cryptically-worded lyrics recounting the aftermath of a night spent at full volume. The biggest promotional boost, however, came courtesy of Giovanni Lindo Ferretti himself: not only did he choose to play "Lieve" at some Csi shows, he even had his own version included on the successful "In quiete", bringing it to the attention of his ever-growing audience.

lightning, thunder and bolts, crashes of milk

uproar at universal dawns, lethal clashes, SONICA, SONICA…

(from “Sonica”)

But “Catartica” is a relentless string of generational, manifesto-like anthems, starting with the opening “M.K.”, a scathing invective against the rap music dominant at the time, which in the band's view was hogging media attention (at the major labels' behest), overshadowing other equally deserving genres. Not to mention “Festa Mesta”, another sonic assault that immediately won over fans' hearts, just as much as the now-legendary “1° 2° 3°” and “Canzone di domani”. The lyrics distill both the most wildly carnal side of Godano's poetics (“Gengiva nuota contro muco/ Gran liquame stilla dal buco/ Rossorosacarnoso ex muso coli bavoso” in the middle section of “Giù giù giù”; the thinly veiled autoeroticism of “Gioia che mi do”) and the chronic apathy of provincial life (“Noi stiamo per generare/ L’idea di vomitare/ Sui vostri piatti migliori/ E stiamo per eliminare/ Chi non si sporca le mani/ E dentro al Cuneo muore” from “Fuoco su di te”).

Listening back to it now, “Catartica” plays almost like a greatest hits of early Marlene Kuntz, fourteen tracks that left a deep mark on everyone who heard them at the time. It's a breathtaking sequence, and amid all that brilliance, tracks that would have been potential singles on any other contemporary album almost fade into the background — yet “Trasudamerica”, “Merry X-mas”, “Mala mela” and the closing instrumental “Non ti scorgo più” are anything but throwaway filler. 

we really ought to talk about it.

But you don't dance, you smile, you say hello, you spit out the beer you're drinking, so graceful;

silently I tell you to get lost,

no, you don't know how to behave

(from “Festa mesta”)

One of Cristiano Godano's greatest achievements (along with those of Manuel Agnelli and, a few years later, Alberto Ferrari of Verdena) was proving that it was possible to sing rock in Italian without sounding ridiculous or predictable. It was on that very ground that his songwriting began to take shape, for instance through the use of unusual or even archaic terms to describe situations conveyed through imaginative imagery, richly laced with figures of speech. Thus were born phrases like “rogo delle mie brame”, “vociare di monete obsolete”, “complimenti a molle”, “perdersi in fondo all’immobile”, “mulo che trasuda America”, “un grammo di gioia del tuo sorriso”. Cristiano would go on to further refine his poetic style in later works, but even from this debut the lyrics were printed in full in the liner booklet, complete with elaborate punctuation and upper/lower-case wordplay, aimed at emphasizing the author's carefully chosen expressions on the page as well. Godano felt he had important things to say and always chose the most effective means to convey them clearly and unmistakably — it was no accident that singing in Italian was a deliberate, programmatic choice.

“Catartica”, released on May 13, 1994, would establish itself as the revelation album of the new Italian rock scene, capable of blending furious post-punk anthems with delicate melodies tinged with a vaguely bohémien flavor. Twenty years on, it's still regarded as one of the touchstone works of the last two decades, even by new generations of musicians who were children — or not even born yet — at the time. With the two albums that followed, “The Vile One” (1996) and “Ho ucciso paranoia” (1999), it would form a remarkably strong trio of records that turned Marlene Kuntz into the true standard-bearers of Italian alternative rock, inheriting the scepter held the previous decade by Cccp and Litfiba. Over the years, they grew from a cult band into a front-rank presence, achieving ever-growing success and even an appearance at the Sanremo Festival, all while striving to combine artistic exploration and assorted experimentation with a song format that remained accessible to a wide audience.

I fired off words like SHIT CARLO ABORTION

I didn't know if I felt strong

All I remember is that look painted on his face

that filthy smile!

We couldn't take it anymore

(from “1° 2° 3°)

Ride the wave of great music

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19/01/2014