Carlame
Sabotaggi

"In the morning, I look at the sky and cry

Sometimes, there isn't even the sky"

At the first hook of "Sabotaggi," a strange form (for the writer) of drum'n'bass mixed with the most radical rap-core, you might expect a declaration of intent, something like "now I'm coming over there, and I'll tell you all the ways I'll slap you."

Instead, Carlame, also known as Carlo Mischiatti, immediately sounds the retreat.

He is naked, perhaps scared, certainly disarmed.

After the projects Emalrac666, Bestiamadonna, and La Forcah, the soul of Discomostro and formerly Skruigners gathers himself and reinvents as a solo artist once again, portraying in a seven-track album his shattered and decadent artistic universe enriched once more with hues—now harsh and sharp, now soft and sumptuous—certainly inherited from the passage of time and age.

"Sabotaggi" is a child of the pandemic, of travel restrictions, of isolation and boredom, but the shadows swirling around it perfectly overlap with today's miseries.

Seven episodes on the alienation of provincial life told without shame, through a sound much akin to punk-hardcore from which it has borrowed the guitars.

And if the last musical effort of Discomostro saw him struggling for the first time in the exercise of writing stories also outside of himself ("Gelato," "Temporale," "Stuzzicadenti"), this parallel project marks the full artistic awareness of Carlame, achieved through an appreciable balance between introspection and a sense of observation of reality.

"Zampe In Tasca" smells of The Prodigy from miles away, before Carlo's lyricism looms and sweeps away any doubt:

"I have an asshole in my heart

And I broke it with records and noise

With wine, with steps, with mistakes

And sometimes with you"

It's not easy to navigate the allegories that characterize Carlame's writing, but it's highly probable that "Buongiorno" tells the condition of gender dysphoria better than a specialist treatise would.

There's plenty of room for keyboards, whose interventions soften the rawness of the lyrical content, before taking the spotlight for the sparse yet imposing "Sotto La Pioggia," a harrowing version of a barrage already heard with Discomostro.

References to Carlo's recent career couldn't be missing; there are also a cover of "Gennaio" and "La Giostra," a sort of diary page about the sense of alienation from life on tour:

"And you're tired but never sleep

And you can't hold on to anything

And no one ever thanks you

And the hurricane will last forever

And the carousel never stops"

"Capolinea" is an abrasive and alcoholic freestyle, it goes down your throat and pretends to warm you, but in reality, it eats you from the inside.

"I've fought with destiny

With prejudices, with loneliness

And I've been too honest

But on my stage, it's always pitch dark"

"Sabotaggi" is a musician's desire to once and for all break down genre barriers with a certain self-irony and a lyrical clarity that can easily be mistaken for self-pity.

It is a handcrafted work, as it was made at home with makeshift means and tools.

But it is urgent, passionate, honest.