Afterhours
I milanesi ammazzano il sabato

"Say something left-wing." Like in 'Aprile', but not to D'Alema. The plea was mine. 2006, in April. The 'Ballate per piccole iene' tour. Afterhours didn't react. Different and boring on stage, different.

For three days I've been listening to 'I milanesi ammazzano il sabato', every time it changes; the lyrics move towards new interpretations, the music allows for entertaining explorations. From the start, there's the joyful astonishment of discovery, like a compression that takes you back ten years, between 'Hai paura del buio?' and 'Non è per sempre', long before the negligible decline.

The initial approach might be misleading, only 5 tracks exceed three minutes, many have such a joyful impact that they seem predictable, the transitions to rhythm changes are easily anticipated. The album as a whole manages to appear simple. But that's not necessarily the case, not for everyone. The soundscape is crafted as it hasn't been since Iriondo's days; more than ever before, you sense the desire to make music from those in the band who aren't named Agnelli; the refinement of many odd times is followed by rougher moments, creating a whimsical and heterogeneous landscape; the lyrics unfold with the classic After duality, the passionate push towards an ideal that might not exist ("the coincidence in the flight"), which often materializes in more immediate carnal figures ("my tongue on your ass").

Significant changes occur, like the birth of a daughter, which shift the focus from one's own torments (at times), from one's own fear of the dark, to desolate considerations about a future "of balance-centric urbanity." The result is good music, nonetheless.

This album won't make those who never appreciated them start liking them, fortunately. For those who enjoyed them, even too long ago, it might be a happy discovery. That of finding oneself grown yet faithful to a past that won't return. Different, but faithful.