In the seventies, I was in elementary school and I remember that school started in October, returning after the feast of Saint Francis, and the first acceptance of the end of summer was distracted by inquisitive guilt-inducing occupations of regime education.
The tan began to yield to the pure white of the seasonal transition, already launching our thoughts toward Christmas. The transformation of the summer sun into introspection was accompanied by the shortening of the days, and the abandonment of the deceitful daylight saving time restored the natural rhythm.
On the record, there is this air of dry leaves carried by the wind, from bright yellow to the decaying yellowish hue indicating the beginning of preparation for hibernation. All four entities participating in this musical assemblage embody the October psyche, from the ethereal thrusts of Dark Arts to Marnie's cynical atmospheres, from the dark impalpability of Autumnfair to the thinned-out hustle of the Soul Brothers.
The soundtrack is quickly made and recommended for an impersonal nostalgia suggested by the semi-fogged and streaked glass from that autumn drizzle that stimulates melancholic pleasure when looking out the window, with your clear sky inside you where that is the true "region" of your being.
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