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Rating: "The world sucks as soon as it gets cloudy"
The Distanti come from Forlì and with just 6 tracks they destroyed me. This EP lasts less than a toilet session but is just as liberating and, depending on your "sensitivity," painful. You listen to it and can't sit still anymore.
The Distanti grab you by the hair, bringing your ear close to their mouth, and just when it feels like they're about to say something, they spit inside. The lyrics of the Distanti, fragmented phrases, little stories told in bursts in a cyanotic ecstasy, are not heard very well, buried as they are under layers of shredded sounds.
But when they scream "TI ODIOOO! TI ODIOOOO! TI ODIOOOO!" you hear them alright. Oh yes, you do.
The Distanti make the music that any young person pissed off should be making in Italy. Because ANY young person is pissed off in Italy. And those who continue to sing little songs, as they did 60 years ago, it doesn't mean they're any less pissed: they’re just lying to themselves. The music of the Distanti is expressionism, it’s action painting, it's sculpted by the force of lashes: the strings are whipped, not plucked (because no, you don’t change the world by plucking at 200 per hour), the drums are stabbed not hit, and the vocal cords are raped not tickled.
The music of the Distanti is the Distanti and the Distanti are young people pissed off who don't want to take it anymore, all this horror that assaults you when you turn on the television, all this shit that clogs your nostrils when you open your front door, all this malice that scratches you when you ask for help.
For this reason, the Distanti scream, they scream for you, for me too. And I scream with them.
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