Explosions In The Sky
How Strange, Innocence

For those who thrive on post-rock, talking about Explosions In The Sky is like talking about a brotherly friend: always there when you need them, always able to console you, always ready to take you by the arm in moments of utmost distress and whisper: "hey don't worry, it's life, it will pass". At least that's what the Texans are for me, a band for every moment of my life, a constant soundtrack that has something to say every time I listen to them, whether during the most tormented nights or the happiest days. It was logical, then, that I felt almost obliged to talk about their first album from 2000, this "How Strange, Innocence", which was only published five years later because the band considered it too unfit and rushed. Fortunately, in hindsight and with an already well-established following, they decided to republish it and present it to their fans in its entirety.

The current CD consists of seven pieces of pure and simple instrumental post-rock, perhaps a bit rough around the edges, perhaps a bit predictable at times, but containing gems of absolute value.

"A Song For Our Fathers" opens the world of EITS to us: a bass riff links to a melancholy guitar arpeggio, followed by the drums and the other guitar in succession. The instruments slowly weave a beautiful track, which detractors of the genre will consider repetitive (after all, we're talking about a genre made of nuances and layers, appreciated over time and in its growing intensity). Midway, the serene pace gives way to distortion "à la Mogwai", without, however, falling into a silly imitation, which in a continuous rise and fall accompanies us towards the end of this first, remarkable track.

If the next "Snow And Lights" overturns the scheme of the previous piece (starting quickly, relaxing in the central part, and suddenly lifting up with sudden bursts of drums and electric discharges) and with "Magic Hours", one can't help but marvel at our genius, even from their first album. Still simple guitar riffs, bright and sincere, a counterpoint to the deep and pulsating bass, then a break, and shortly after the third minute, the real song begins. Suddenly, the atmosphere becomes tense and crepuscular, it seems like embarking on a journey into an ever-denser forest, where light filters through less and less. The tension grows as the track progresses, the instruments build up, the riffs undergo slight variations, the rhythm section picks up pace, and the speed increases until the inevitable explosion, the emotional climax of the track (and perhaps the album), those electric blows in the sixth minute giving rise to a true sonic storm that will tear us from our remaining certainties and toss us around until halfway through the eighth minute, with the close of the track. It is pleasant to feel how, despite the increasing involvement that rises alongside the piece's progress, you never feel completely threatened, never inadequate, never scared... This is what I meant when, at the beginning, I said that EITS is like an old friend capable of calming you down at any moment.

True "emotional explosions" like those just experienced are partly traceable only in "Glittering Blackness". The other pieces, all of equal beauty and value, are soothing and romantic rides (and perhaps unreal?) like the embrace of two lovers whirling in the pastel Parisian skies painted by Chagall (I hope those familiar with the painting I referred to will agree with this analogy).

We are not in front of Explosions In The Sky's masterpiece, that's obvious. However, it is certainly a must-have album for all the band's fans and post-rock enthusiasts in general, if only to understand the roots of the group (and not to miss moments like those I described). But surely we are talking about a beautiful experience, which I think is more than positive to have, at least once.