Coma_cose
Jugoslavia

If I were 20 years old or 17 and a half, I'd be glad they exist. With all this "music" going around, all the puffed-up fluff and those drawling voices and the sub-copies of copies of already ridiculous overseas debauchees, and the dissing each other and those who follow them and who knows what else.

With all this crap that's so easy to churn out and pass off, two people with true style, who play with words and meticulously craft their beats, and they are simple and clear and effective and as you listen a smile escapes you, with all the putrid sludge designed to ensnare eternal adolescents or others still there stirring the "Italian singer-songwriter tradition," adding a dash of synth and a few samples, mixing enough to seem "new" to those who have no memory (almost everyone, myself included), with all this stuff and the rest which I don't even want to list, well, I'd be glad that Coma_Cose exists.

They haven't made an album yet, they've done about 9 tracks, three inside an EP (Inverno Ticinese) and the others one at a time, and I've noticed I always end up listening to them when I have things to do and let something play from YouTube in the room, and if the rotation brings me to "Pesto" by Calcutta, the automatic impulse is to click back and re-listen to "Anima Lattina," even 6 times, maybe, but please no to the rest of the "scene."

And since you have to choose a work to do the "review," I chose Jugoslavia, which is the piece I was listening to while doing laundry, and it starts with me wanting to kiss that little girl singing "the first cigarette I light up at dawn, take two puffs tastes like Jugoslavia," kiss her like Mickey Rourke kissed Kim, who then said: kissing Rourke was like licking a dirty ashtray.

I'm a bit embarrassed, having not written on Deb for a long time and now doing it for these two. And I don't even have anything interesting to say. If I were 17 and a half, I'd probably already know who Coma_Cose are, if it's something that interests me, and probably have a decisive and definitive opinion about it, and certainly wouldn’t care about an old man's chatter. So I don't even know for whom I'm writing these things, there are few old people like me around here, and I doubt they have such embarrassing tastes (all people with refined listens, I say this without irony and/or sarcasm, to be clear damn it). And those a bit less old are generally even more irritated by this demented music from these young fools, but as long as there's Trent Reznor there's hope (and some hope is also placed in the good Cave, you never know how long he’ll endure)

I write for them, those two kids, her and him. Who made me smile while they talked about a dad who drove towards Jesolo and had hands as big as a lion's paws, and Battisti in the car.

I write because, even though it's apparently simple, that "Anima Lattina" captured my heart. And Battisti smiled with me as I listened.