Years have passed since my last post on this site... they have been years full of events, not only for me, but I believe for the whole world: it seems to have taken a disturbing drift, everything we were taught to respect, in political matters and individual rights, seems inexorably manipulated and distorted... people struggle to get by, even though it could be worse, much worse, especially when we consider that there is always someone worse off than us, that all things considered, we still have a full belly. But it is fair to ask: for how much longer? What other compromises will I have to sign in the near future?
In Italy, then, veritable legions of fools and sinister individuals in ties, vile and squanderers of public money, entangled with international capital (whether right or left, more or less racist or tolerant, it hardly matters at this point...) are reducing my wonderful country into a receptacle of obscenities, of unpunished crimes, of dark sardonic laughter that follow one another and vent on the skin of those who live a life of sacrifices, in the name of honesty and respect for others...
In this turbulent framework, I take up this EP now dated from the 2000s, a gem of only 4 tracks dating back to the era of that other masterpiece which is "Music as the right to children"; in my record collection, it features as one of the few electronic records worthy of particular appreciation - as I am not at all a fan of the genre, since I have always hated dancing and getting wild on dance floors (the so-called "Dionysian spirit," a false prerogative of the masses freed from the norms of an intransigent past, but all in all endowed with sense and above all measure...) - alongside some other illustrious names (see: Brian Eno, Tangerine Dream, Autechre, Vangelis...) they complement what I believe is my position towards all that "loves the beat and translates it into tangible sensation with synthetic sounds."
Unlike many pillars of the genre, including those mentioned above, the music of BOC appears watered down and even unhealthy at first, rash listening: dance hall lovers ala Cocoricò will struggle a lot to get into the mood, dismissing it as boring and monotonous (as if their brash BUM BUM BUM were the pinnacle of variety...), it's easier to approach for those who listen to experimental rock, ambient (more or less obscure, without barriers of any kind...), or it might even fascinate some incorrigible metalhead looking for something different from the usual triple pedal with a diet of growling and distorted guitars, as well as some stray rapper, tired of the usual trite and tired symbols of their yoyoyo colleagues, now terribly disfigured and sold out to the music industry and the megastore of recycled plastic lives. I speak from decades of experience (since it's precisely since 2001 that I've listened to and appreciated the two Scotsmen) derived from comparisons with many friends with the most diverse tastes...
"Kid for today" should be taught in a music school: the base beat is broken and intentionally stripped of the first beat. The result is a dynamic piece, so to speak, limping, which gradually enriches itself with subtle samples and allegorical manipulations.
"Amo Bishop Roden" is a sonic testament to the yearning for something transcendental: the not-so-hidden reference to David Koresh and the Davidian sect transports the well-informed soul into a universe of joyful melancholy.
"In a beautiful place out in the country," with its giggles of children coming from who knows what utopian dimension, is pure harmony for us philosophers of tomorrow, in a succession of radiant subliminal messages...
Finally, "Zoetrope" adorns itself with minimal and curiously sagacious keyboards, and takes on the features of the passage of time for a humanity until now left at the mercy of itself...
HC kids of macho and pretentious nature, confused nerds grappling with grind gargles or addicted to HNW, freckled girls with the Blink poster still hanging on the wall, various bores with ears accustomed only to light music of Italian stamp, grumpy and skeptical towards any other musical sensation, stubborn with the Vasco/Renato Zero/Mengoni of the moment (not to mention those listening to, who knows, Pupo...). For you, it's too soon or too late for this stuff here.
But deep down, it is not certain... Who knows, maybe one day even they will let themselves be lulled by these sounds, which are nothing more than a glimpse of that longed-for lost paradise called out by our ancestors, but which we, from the pulpit of our more-than-practiced nihilistic inequalities, have perhaps mocked and repudiated more than once...
Loading comments slowly