Fine Before You Came
A U T O C E L E B R A Z I O N E

THE REVIEW

Go with Situationism.

There is a story behind this video, but you'll have to discover it yourself (it won't take long). The Fine Before You Came do nothing to try to warm up the internet and digital human-machine-human relationship (after all, they are inept with the internet). However, it's worth mentioning that in the summer, staying indoors studying, the PC reaches remarkable temperatures, and this can somewhat simulate the warmth that nevertheless exudes from the images of A U T O C E L E B R A Z I O N E, a programmatic title of this small medium-length anti-video-punkcabaret created by putting together what everyone calls footage collected from concerts, tours, and more.

The guys cleverly decided to spread the word online, making it available freely and ubiquitously (for instance, here), in high, medium, semi-cold, and low frequencies.

The raconteur of the video, strictly B/W and without a narrator, moves from live performances to moments of relaxation, critiques from scattered people, vascorossini moments, and the excellent tracks from S F O R T U N A strategically thrown in to grab the viewer's attention when the pace drops (these guys are smart).

Needless to say, something like this serves only two purposes: either as an appetizer before seeing them live, or as a nostalgic reminder after their concert (or even better, as a fast-food memory between one of their concerts and the next), because if you don’t intend to see them live, if you don’t intend to meet them or listen to them or endure their somewhat Piedmontese, somewhat Tuscan inflections, then stop right away and go listen to drone.

It should be noted that Fine Before You Came is a band that pours, instills, confuses and transmits so much to the audience (and receives equally from the audience) that the trek using various means of transportation to see them live is a must even if you only listen to Lady Gaga, Burzum, and Interpol. You will like them anyway, especially when they play the gloomy tunes, because it's known that the more you sing sadness, the happier you are, and the happier you are, the more you ride a bike, and the more you ride a bike, the more drivers will try to run you over, and then you'll sing the sadness.

The Fine Before You Came are the contemporary, a crystalline ouroboros of a non-transversal generation that will give Munari's books to their grandchildren, will continue to appreciate black and white photos even when tridigitostereophonics arrives, will prefer to hit on girls only after the two ritual beers and a hug with friends, and will always love the concert as the supreme form of being together, doing things, meeting people, saying what we feel we must say, and then in the end, kisses and hugs.

And this digital half-hour, digital but very warm, is the proof of it.