Deca
Aracnis Radiarum

Those who have a visceral love for electronic music and ambient with dark undertones cannot help but approach Deca with great interest and acquire at least his latest albums. This Italian musician, now fully recognized as a historical composer in the global avant-garde scene, has become a genuine outsider who has managed to gain prominence in the music chronicles without ever bowing to market logic and without ever compromising; not even with himself, I dare say, as every new work always offers some new insight.

In short, Deca does not live off past glories. And even if this latest work, "Aracnis Radiarum," seems to tread paths already marked by previous titles (especially "Phantom"), the quality of the sound research remains high, and the certainty remains unblemished that this is not music made to please someone.

"Aracnis Radiarum" starts with a bang and, even before its official release (which took place on January 2, 2007), collected two or three excellent reviews in print. So, I barely had time to get myself a copy before reading more outstanding critiques on various websites.

A cover in perfect sci-fi style – with chromed claws, gigantic spiders, sunsets with two moons – reflecting the literary approach of the work: the album is indeed inspired by a science fiction novel that Deca himself had published many years ago. And the transition from the cover to the music is very brief: you begin with the jubilee of sequencers and metallic rhythms in "Pandinus Imperator" (named after a scorpion), and then the chilling sounds of a battle lead you into the space-time corridors of "Entroid"... the journey begins, and it is indeed a kind of trip from which it is difficult to detach oneself.

Technological dances that nod to the most refined synthpop alternate with unsettling experiments that evoke Giger's paintings and Lynch's films, passing through the metaphysical melancholy of tracks like "Time Transmitter" or "Autoclone Euscorpius." In some parts, Deca's compositional vein seems to dilute, linger, dwelling more on the development of the sounds than on the development of the piece. But on the whole, the 55 minutes of the album flow majestically and intriguingly, leaving a suggestion in memory that lies somewhere between reality and dream.

Far from the early vinyl of the '80s, truly too tied to the school of Jarre and Vangelis, Deca today has over twenty years of discography behind him, in which he has constructed his personal electronic style and if you will, his own "poetics" of the keyboard, starting from his backgrounds as a classical and minimalist pianist to reach industrial and digital music. Perhaps not a pioneer in the true sense of the word, but certainly an artist who has influenced the more cultured fringes of the European electronic scene and left his mark with albums like "Claustrophobia" and the masterpiece "Simbionte."