Verdena

Gli esperti di moda

Si grattano la gola

Ed è giusto oppure no

Capirne il senso etico?

Ingoio un rospo

(da “Logorrea”)

In 2003, Verdena were already much more than a next big thing. The first two albums by the still very young Bergamo natives had been huge hits: the self-titled debut, produced by Giorgio Canali, had established them as idols for all the teenagers left orphaned too soon by Cobain; the follow-up, “Just a Big Rock”, produced by Manuel Agnelli, veered close to a psychedelia that found its clearest reference point in Motorpsycho. A veritable war machine on stage, the Ferrari brothers and Roberta Sammarelli now had to carefully plan their next moves, aiming for new, ambitious goals while avoiding repeating themselves.

For “Il suicidio dei samurai”, conceived in deep isolation in the converted henhouse-turned-rural recording studio at home, the trio brought in a fourth member, keyboardist Fidel Fogaroli. Alberto's hyper-perfectionism (with Verdena opting for self-production for the first time) led to a result capable of surprising even the most skeptical: the eleven tracks banish both the bulimic tendencies of “Just a Big Rock” and the overly teen aspects of the debut. Ferrari shows a heightened care in his visionary lyric-writing, weighing every word carefully to craft small generational slogans out of as few words as possible, only the strictly necessary ones. Musically, the album strikes a remarkable balance, cutting out any excess length (which would return in later records, starting with “Requiem”) to focus once again on a “radio-friendly” song format, as in the days of “Viba” and “Valvonauta”.

Dipingimi

Distorto come un angelo anormale

Che cade

Offendimi

If hating is a crime, the price is the same

E fa male

(from “Luna”)

The words, as we said, are finely worked by Alberto, who focuses heavily on their sound, starting from a provisional English used in rehearsal and then transposing everything into an Italian capable of proving that you can sing alt-rock in our language without sounding ridiculous or forced. He chooses phrases that, on a distracted listen, might seem disconnected, devoid of any natural logical sense, but which actually open up onto anything but random concepts, mostly nonsense, yet full of disturbing images, so powerful that they materialize before the listener's eyes like frames from a pulp film or a horror B-movie. Abnormal angels, bleeding gods, burning air, a sky-fan to lie on, blue rats and many other impenetrable allegorical figures populate the space, without feeling the slightest need to be understood at all costs.

As clearly revealed by the title (a reference to “Suicide Samurai”, a song by Fecal Matter, Kurt Cobain's first band), the album's influences are firmly rooted in American alternative rock, particularly in the least classic-oriented grunge and in the noise drift of Sonic Youth. The incipit is imperious: granite-hard and impatient, “Logorrea (esperti all'opera)” anticipates the mood of the whole album, with its powerful rhythm, keyboards adding a touch of phantasmagoria, and resolute words. A frontal attack on those who didn't believe in them? Introduced by a romantic guitar arpeggio, “Luna” is destined from the very start to become a timeless fan favourite, a snapshot of the band's essence: a mumbling bass line, driving drumming and those big guitars from which Alberto draws his tragic conclusion. “Niente conta e crolla, crolla”, screamed at the top of his lungs, until the words fray apart.

Mina, I've lost control

And after all I'll have nothing but rain

Falling with me

And I hurl the last molecules against you

(from “Mina”)

On “Mina”, Alberto experiments with a more slippery, vaguely sensual vocal delivery, before letting himself be pierced by the fury of a violent, late-adolescent psychological breakdown. Just a moment after the fire has died down, a synthetic flute picks up the melody, softens it, tames it, turning it into a resigned calm. “Balanite” is equally sensual, even more relaxed and languid, a lyric about lost desire that slithers among the scorching, enveloping guitars, curling up in the iconic chorus that repeats ad libitum “Prima o poi!”. “Phantastica”, on the other hand, is the perfect indie hit of the moment, in alt-pop mode, where the guitar opts for a melodic solo rather than a frontal assault, recalling the early Smashing Pumpkins.

“Elefante” is a battering ram that splits the record in two. Alberto's words go into freefall, the bass line is supersonic and the drums mimic a runaway train, which amid dust and sparks smashes everything in its path. Explosive solos, the guitar trumpeting like an elephant in a way that recalls certain sonic dialogues between Lee Ranaldo and Thurston Moore. “Far Fisa” marks the pause before the brutal final trio of tracks, an infernal crescendo that materializes in the psychedelic avalanche of “17 tir nel cortile”, perhaps a legacy of the previous album, in the combative riffs mixed with the autumnal nostalgia that permeates “40 secondi di niente”, and in the palpable anguish that filters through the striking title track, charged with sudden fits of sonic delirium and an unsettling close.

Correct me

If all this is weak

What you do no longer draws attention

It doesn't engage!

(from “Phantastica”)

But halfway through the tracklist stands the record's true highlight, the monumental "Glamodrama," a title inspired by "Glamorama" by postmodernist writer Bret Easton Ellis, which adds to the already substantial pile of references to American pop culture found here from the yellow cover onward, dominated by a female figure reminiscent of Marilyn and a little elephant of clear Warholian inspiration. The song, actually a mini-suite whose length is nonetheless kept in check, opens slow and sinuous before detonating into two epic choruses, entrusting its second half to an anxiety-inducing crescendo of rare intensity, built up through successive layers. Along with "Luna," it will forever remain among the most beloved songs not only in Verdena's catalogue, but in the whole of Italian independent rock.

Thanks to a masterful mix of experimentation and "pop" attitude, "Il suicidio dei samurai" allowed Verdena to consolidate both their fame with an ever-growing audience and the critics' approval, which would continue to be showered on them without interruption, even if - despite the band's undeniable further maturation afterwards - they would never again strike the gut of Italian youth quite like this. The visceral, brutal, at times ferocious approach, the overwhelming riffs that stun the listener, and the relentless rhythm section would lead the trio - alongside the already established, more "senior" Marlene Kuntz and Afterhours - to complete the ideal, untouchable "Holy Trinity" at the center of the national "alternative" scene of those years. A desirable outcome, but certainly still debatable at the time of their first two albums. "Il suicidio dei samurai" was toured extensively, with dates that showcased the devastating electric charge of those songs. As had happened before, the band continued in parallel to release EPs useful for unearthing all the fruits of their unstoppable creative streak of the period. Among the many covers and unreleased tracks, at the very least "Le tue ossa nell'altitudine" deserves to be rediscovered, a track that would certainly not have looked out of place on "Il suicidio"'s tracklist.

Sometimes

She changes skin

And confesses it to me

Continuously

She explores order

Spread by me

And now it's clear that

The rawest wound is only you

Demon!

Demon!

How well you fall

A bolide

Damn it!

Anxiety devours

(from "Glamodrama")

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04/08/2019