deadmau5
7

Lately, I've been sad. Really fucking sad. In these months away from Debaser, I haven't had the time or desire to write (aside from a few artist definitions, some serious, others a bit less so). Moreover, the third season (after the conclusion of the second) of the TV series "Rick & Morty" is in the works, and I don't know what the hell to get into now. This state of agony then plunged into a sort of depression when a few days ago the Facebook page "Fabio Fazio si incula da solo con un sofisticato sistema di specchi e leve" was violently and suddenly closed. I SPENT MY AFTERNOONS THERE, FOR GOD'S SAKE. And since I've decided to give my liver a break from alcohol, the only way I had to relieve the tension was to listen to some music.

The Soilent Green? No, come on, grindcore is not suitable for such a delicate moment. Aphex Twin? You need to have gone to a conservatory to keep time to one of his songs. Jamiroquai? Already had an overdose in the past months. Wait, but deadmau5? Didn't he release that mini album a couple of years ago where he played only the piano? What was it called? Oh, yes, "7". I listened to it absentmindedly, I'll take it up again.

I connect my phone to my stereo speakers and start the tracks. The majestic and heavy notes of "Acedia" open this unusual EP in a solemn yet somehow delicate way, where the Canadian producer decidedly departs in style from his previous works (and, partially, from his subsequent "while(1<2)", which includes six of the seven tracks from this "7"). The electronic beats are now replaced by the gentle notes of the piano, and house makes way for a more classical and minimalist approach to music, which the eclectic Zimmerman adapts to admirably. The atmosphere created by the slow sound of the piano sinuously spreads out along what doesn't seem exaggerated to call an "iter," a real journey, albeit a short one. Seventeen minutes in which the darkest rooms of the human mind are explored, its every sin. Because, as we know, everyone is a sinner. Seventeen minutes in which memories that should have remained indefinitely in the subconscious are exhumed.

I personally don't feel like recommending one track over the others, since, like on a journey, skipping steps can be harmful, even though I must admit I've loved "Gula" above all, probably because gluttony is the cardinal sin I identify with the most. Take that quarter of an hour to give it a listen. Lock yourself in a room, in the bathroom, in the basement, wherever the fuck you want. There will surely be at least one track that will bring tears to your eyes, that will give meaning to those meager 17 minutes of existence, that will make you tell the world to fuck off.

Isn't it ironic how a dead mouse gives more life lessons than that asshole Mickey Mouse?