More from the invisible DIY Italian scene: Clangore, with a self-titled release from A.D. 2019, today still worthy a note.
Monicker for Davide Mastrullo (formerly in Elettronoir), Rome-based illustrator and musician confronting and exploring the buzzing and reverbed galaxy of post-punk alienation.
Vocals sometimes whispered, guitar fuzz squall gently cascading into reverb, and obsessive drum machine beats, synth.
Nuovi giorni opens this EP with abrasive melancholy, a manifesto of tension and intensity. Later, Baratto goes Suicide-like, with this dancy straight beat, sinister basslines, distorted guitars like an incoming thunderstorm and bending and shifting notes keys, while Davide sings/describes all the hallmarks of consumerism that command and consume people's personalities. This also happens with Donny Fegato: a torturing, hammering beat and a narrative shared by teetering vocals and trascending guitar fuzz, a long jump into the abyss of pressure and consciousness.
Track Clorofilla speaks 80s dark tones music, like the casio claps on the unchanging drumbeat progression, a song about despair and rebirth. Last track Immerso shares a sort of hummable refrain, sonically and thematically true to the soliloquy spirit of the other tracks.
Definitely an EP disc of distress and release into decay.
Monicker for Davide Mastrullo (formerly in Elettronoir), Rome-based illustrator and musician confronting and exploring the buzzing and reverbed galaxy of post-punk alienation.
Vocals sometimes whispered, guitar fuzz squall gently cascading into reverb, and obsessive drum machine beats, synth.
Nuovi giorni opens this EP with abrasive melancholy, a manifesto of tension and intensity. Later, Baratto goes Suicide-like, with this dancy straight beat, sinister basslines, distorted guitars like an incoming thunderstorm and bending and shifting notes keys, while Davide sings/describes all the hallmarks of consumerism that command and consume people's personalities. This also happens with Donny Fegato: a torturing, hammering beat and a narrative shared by teetering vocals and trascending guitar fuzz, a long jump into the abyss of pressure and consciousness.
Track Clorofilla speaks 80s dark tones music, like the casio claps on the unchanging drumbeat progression, a song about despair and rebirth. Last track Immerso shares a sort of hummable refrain, sonically and thematically true to the soliloquy spirit of the other tracks.
Definitely an EP disc of distress and release into decay.
Feedback:
not yet, probably nobody cares, or nobody cared enough to tell something. Also: nobody reads komakino.
Leave a feedback about this post, or don't.
your sweet name:
your IMPORTANT text:
url:
icon: will be resized 30x30pxl
your IMPORTANT text:
url:
icon: will be resized 30x30pxl
.jpg)
see blah blah archives
