Ain Soph
Aurora

"Aurora" represents a pivotal point in the bold artistic journey of Ain Soph.

 Ain Soph is not to be considered a band in the conventional sense. Completely outside the logic of the music market, the history of this ensemble from the capital begins in the 1980s with the dissemination of amateur tapes within underground circuits, not initially intended for an audience: home recordings that, more than actual albums, could legitimately be defined as experiments in magic.

Following in the footsteps of the incomparable Current 93, the Romans knew how to create exquisite examples of ritual music, sonic tangles in which, according to those involved, "no sonic solution, no single note was arbitrary, or chosen because it was "beautiful": everything was subordinated to the rigorous realization - or at least illustration - of magical purposes."

Then, in 1992, the turning point.

Three years earlier the Berlin Wall had fallen, an event destined to spark new reflections and favor the introduction of new categories for reading reality. And so, in the blink of an eye, we found a tearful Occhetto dissolving the PCI and founding the PDS, and, almost simultaneously, Ferretti and Zamboni archiving the CCCP experience and inaugurating the CSI era (which stood to CCCP as PDS stood to PCI!).

I say this not because I'm a mad visionary, but because it simplifies things for me to draw a parallel between CCCP and Ain Soph and to see the shift in "Aurora" as driven by the same contingencies that led to the birth of CSI.

Although, in reality, the premises and consequences are of opposite sign: "Aurora", which stylistically marks the transition to a more genuinely musical dimension, from a conceptual point of view is not simply an awareness in line with an ideological softening dictated by the times, but a true entry into the field (God, how I hate that expression!).

It is thus a matter of moving "from noise to music, from magic to ethics", as Ain Soph themselves explain, and to "move to trenches in every sense more advanced: closer to truth and at the same time open to error."

Thus, it marks the transition from the abstraction and ambiguity of ritual music to a firm stance, inevitably imposed by circumstances, a necessary act in "a time when the aberrant Walls of impotence and fear are collapsing: but", the authors add, "they are walls of stone and barbed wire, which a crowd can demolish. Other walls remain standing, in hearts and consciences, which only the iron determination can bring down. This must occur in Silence, within each of us. This music, which is still noise and distraction; these words, which by nature are inadequate, are our contribution to this Silence. And if until now we have spoken from mind to mind, we now intend to speak from heart to hearts".

This entry into the field materializes thus with a concept inspired by the feelings of disillusionment and revenge of a 'repubblichino' who, at the end of World War II, witnesses the collapse of his ideals.

Ten years later, "Ottobre" will be released, which will illustrate, instead, the mindset of a young Russian in front of the implosion of the Soviet Union and the fall of Communism: "In both cases, it's about people who fight, live, and die for an ideal that perhaps is already lost from the start", clarify our friends, keen to distance themselves from any type of categorization that distorts the sense of their music. "The fact is", they explain, "no one can digest that Ain Soph is a free, atypical group, without pre-established schemes and devoid of preconceptions, not subjugated to the laws of the music market and acting in an autarchic and autonomous manner."

 The Ain Soph thought, as in the past, is rather to be sought in the Evolian philosophy (oh dear), and in particular in the dichotomy between forces of Tradition and forces of Anti-Tradition: "Honor, honesty, self-discipline, detachment: these are the mainstays of life, and even more of magic", they explain. And again: "We are not emotionally, irrationally tied to a political doctrine - which would already be a mistake: but from a magical point of view, the enemy is extremely clear:
If Magic is the supremacy of the spirit, the enemies are the doctrines of Matter.
If Magic is struggle and victory, the enemies are the doctrines of cowardice and desertion.
If Magic is absolute coherence with an inner and divine Truth, the enemies are the doctrines of compromise and transformism.
If Magic is the supreme ascension of the Self, until it reaches the regions where the Self is transfigured, the enemies are the doctrines of the mass man and egalitarianism.
If Magic is tradition that flows in the veins of History, the enemies are the doctrines that deny values."

 It is clear that the target includes progressive forces, democratic institutions, Communism, and its derivatives. But beyond whether you adhere to the premises on which Ain Soph's message is based (I, for example, do not, as a fervent supporter of the doctrines of Matter, cowardice and desertion, compromise, the mass man, egalitarianism, and the negation of values, I gladly step outside of this manifesto of intentions!), regardless of all this, "Aurora" proves to be a passionate reflection on the fall of Ideals and Tradition, a work that inserts itself in a timely manner into a historical moment when the present becomes confused, the future uncertain, the past subject to new interpretations.

I will also say that in more than one track respect is expressed for the figure of the partisan: an aspect that goes on to confirm the hypothesis that in Ain Soph's intentions there was indeed the will to celebrate a universal and abstract value of struggle, integrity, consistency with one's ideas, and aversion to any sort of corruption, opportunism, compromise. 

The fascist march that opens the album (like the Soviet anthem that will open "Ottobre") is thus to be seen as a simple contextualizing ploy. But it is only a handful of seconds because immediately the lively piano of "Tutti a casa!", a spirited opening track, bursts in, of which I report the full text:

"Tutti a casa! Tutti a casa! Caporale, mi strappi le mostrine
Presto arriveranno le donnine, e gli yankee con il loro jazz
Che fessi quei fascisti e partigiani, che hanno ancora voglia di morire
Arrivano gli amici americani, per due o tre anni ho voglia di dormire. 

 

C'è una nazione da ricostruire, a cominciare dalla borsa nera
Poi due bombe messe sopra ai treni, se servirà a fare carriera
Frequentiamo vescovi e casini, in montagna ci andremo per sciare
I partigiano e le camicie nere si divertano  sparare
Noi dobbiamo creare ministeri e far la guerra dai giornali
Questi estremisti li elimineremo, secondo gli interessi nazionali 

Tutti a casa! Tutti a casa! Svuotate le galere
Che serviranno fra non molto ai nemici del potere 

Benvenuti nell'Italia Democristiana"

 The whole is imbued with the verve and liveliness of a singer-songwriter style reminiscent of Paolo Conte/Enzo Jannacci: quite a leap, considering the band's esoteric past!

A change that has little to do with the folk swerve of the predecessors Current 93 but will still garner some success among the band's fans accustomed to very different sounds.

For others, it is necessary to clarify that the technical level is close to zero, the compositions puerile, the voices coarse, the blunders innumerable. A simple and sparse sound, that of Ain Soph of "Aurora", a sound of acoustic guitars, piano, and little else: an organ, a rustic accordion, some electric quirks, and occasional noise inserts timidly called upon to evoke the band’s industrial past.

At first listen, the impression will be one of facing real musical charlatans. Yet, the irony of certain lyrics, the wit of certain ideas, the blunt sociology of certain passages deliver a world that is simple, naïve, but genuine, sincere, passionate.  

 How can we not mention the disjointed "Pistolet Automatique" and "Uomini Perduti", or the bizarre "Gli Amanti Tristi", in my opinion, the true masterpiece of the album (the irresistible chorus that goes: "Ah, these loves like films seen before, not even a nice ending excites me. Ah, these somewhat neorealist loves, the direction seems to me trite"): tracks played with abandon, sung by drunkards lost in alleyways, pieces capable of exuding, however, a rawness typical of the suburbs, disenchantment of true outcasts, a despair of true underclass that many other "singers of the people" don't even dream of.

Also noteworthy are the touching tracks sung in French ("Ramayana", "Liberté ou Mort", "Vent") that add fresh oversea tones to the smoky, cabaret-style notes of the album.

There are also episodes that include the English language ("White Guard") and Spanish ("Le Départ", from a text by Borges): episodes that help to color a work that, despite its many imperfections and smudges, still constitutes a classic in the Italian underground scene, the most courageous work of a band paradoxically little known here in Italy, but which is admired from various parts beyond the national borders.

 To rediscover.