Electric Peace
Medieval Mosquito

Well, yes, Brian may have managed not to get shot down by a cop; and anyway, even if they did take him out, it's likely that he was the one to put a bullet in a cop's head first, then succumb to an uncontrollable laugh. It could have happened just like that, the story, if we want to give an autobiographical sense to «Came Into Town».

Welcome, then, to the nightmares of the medieval mosquito, the offspring of the twisted mind of Brian Kild, who scrutinizes us closely, as unsettling as any freak that populates the paintings of Hieronymus Bosch or the film by Tod Browning.

Ten little nightmares wide-eyed that only by chance take form in music; when, with equal effectiveness, they could have been paintings inspired by a forceful visionary realism; or, clear snapshots of alienation and violence in any megalopolis, reaching out to the outskirts of desolation.

In this case, the story takes place in Los Angeles and features characters coming from who knows where, declaring that the flowers are in the trash and it's no longer time for peace or love. Or maybe, yes, peace can still have a meaning, provided it is crossed by a high-voltage electric charge.

This is "Medieval Mosquito," these are the Electric Peace.

As with all great and innovative groups, those truly great and innovative, few have known them, but those few, after 25 years, have not forgotten them, and in their ears still resonates the mind-freer that brands «Came Into Town».

What a masterpiece it is, «Came Into Town».

A song that, in less than five minutes, tells you of an entire life consumed beyond the margins of madness and other unknowing lives that surround it and are, at the same time, executed and executioners of that madness. Impossible to recount «Came Into Town» and, as absurd as it may be, I can only suggest the comparison with «Nebraska»: if that one opens with the line «Me and her went for a ride, sir, and ten innocent people die» and closes with the desolate «Well, sir, I guess there's just a meanness in this world», the serial killer narrated in «Came Into Town» bursts onto the scene and «Shot a cop through the head and started to laugh» only to exit with «Got shot through the head, and the cops all started to laugh».

If in "Nebraska" (the album) the feeling of pity prevails for the castaways of the American dream unable to reach the promised land, then "Medieval Mosquito" is the absolute negation of "Nebraska": you succumb, poor idiot, preferably under the defiant gaze of the one who dealt you the death blow, precisely because the dream never existed and the promised land is just a desert populated by bodies gone straight to hell.

Truly impossible to recount «Came Into Town».

Equally difficult to recount Electric Peace, so I'll just point out the territories they roamed, those of a hard rock mingled with a psychotic blues that has its borders between the Deep Purple of "Made In Japan", just before hard rock degenerated into heavy metal mannerism, because Electric Peace are heavily metallic, yes, but in the way of the extraordinary «Cranking Into Oblivion»; the Doors of "Roadhouse Blues" resurrected in "Hate Is Special Feeling"; and Soundgarden from the time of "Louder Than Love" and surroundings, which encourage reckless pogo to the rhythm of «Roadrunner».

It's just that Soundgarden came later and are a faded copy of the best Electric Peace.

They were an epochal band, Electric Peace, and epochal is "Medieval Mosquito", even if neither them nor it will ever be cited in any music anthology.

But this time, trust a pumpkin head.