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Rating: After the first two megalopolitan stops (Karalis and then Tattari), the third and final stop of the Sardo-Italic Tour of the psycho-space rockers sauerkraut-eaters Electric Moon takes place at Frames in Fordongianus, a few weeks ago the setting of a good set by the American Moon Duo.
Let me digress for just a second to give compliments to the resident cook: for four miserable €uros, she stuffed our throats with some good Cous-Cous (next time remember the chickpeas!), a nice slice of stuffed meatloaf, a hearty omelet, half-kilo olives, and I can’t remember what else genuinely edible: it’s known that savoring some healthy acid rock with a full belly is much better than doing it on an empty stomach.
But let's get back to the Sanremo side of the evening: after the short set of the local stoner-rockers, or so they define themselves, Elepharmers - on stage they seemed more like a sort of rock'n'roll version of Entombed and/or a very light version of Unsane without the quid of one or the ferocity of the other - the Central European trio led by the hallucinated guitar-hero Sula, the mighty Lulu, and the blacksmith Marcus presents themselves on the essential four planks of the stage with a barebones setup of guitar-bass-drums in addition to a mountain of pedals and insane malevolent contraptions that allow the long-haired Mr. Bassana to adequately stun the fifty or so attendees with assorted psychotronic mega-fuzzes and waves of incendiary wah-wah.
To be honest, the effect is a bit like the "heard one, heard them all": more or less thoughtful start with flourishes and menacing hisses in the background, abnormal undulating-pachydermic crescendos that turn into sudden magmatic-guitar eruptions complete with lava, scorching lapilli, and hydrogen sulfide hurled at the defenseless (or dazed, not necessarily only by the music) audience, eventually decreasing happily, after ten/twenty/thirty minutes – depending on the segment – towards the salvific silence (assent); one must admit that despite the underlying dogmatism, the proposal remains tremendously effective and engaging: and without even needing to get high.
In essence, the sensation I experienced some time ago from the diabolical CDR "Inferno" is fully confirmed: they were and remain incurable Neo-Romantics. Completely unhinged, of course.
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