Fine Before You Came
Sfortuna

One might say that tastes are not only subjective but also not absolute within the subjective realm, with a certain degree of oscillation between poles, which manages to relativize—at times—everything.

This is what happens to me with some artists whose judgments tend to oscillate over the days and shorter time frames, like the graph of a public company that plunges one day and enjoys flourishing health two days later.

Few do not know Fine Before You Came (okay, they're not Negramaro but in a certain circle...), probably the most popular phenomenon of Italian indie after the release of the new "Ormai," which follows "Sfortuna" on which I intend to speak.

I typed three magic words on Google and got so many results, enough to pale in comparison to the number of reviews of Pink Floyd, Iron Maiden, and friends here on DeBaser.

The strategic policy of free downloads behind the band's work is certainly admirable, representing a brave choice.

As well as their irreverent and playful communicative side is rather unique (just look at the posts on their Facebook page or certain black and white poses featuring Adrianone!).

Enough rambling.

The record has the right groove, but I won't launch into pompous praises present almost everywhere.

However, it's the moment you listen that makes the difference, and it's not small, believe me. Don't tell me that on the beach under the umbrella on a carefree sunny afternoon with friends you put on your headphones and hit the play button on your mp3 to "Buio" or "Natale," not because it's anachronistic, but because this record needs certain situations and moods to be appreciated.

It is, after all, an emo-indie-post-hc-second wave album with certain tones ranging from melancholic to depressive, with the lyricism of good Jacopo evoking blurred images, giant stones falling from an undefined sky, sleepless nights. "Piovono pietre" (nice lyrics, quite unique and a bit open to be honest) could be my favorite with that rhythmic burst (also present in other parts of the work) halfway through where Jacopo's semi-shouted disillusionment takes shape. But even "Lista," with those subdued and dreamy arpeggios repeated to excess at the opening, doesn't make us cringe.

But to be honest, if you're pissed at the world, it's raining outside, your girlfriend left you, you're alone, and you're feeling terrible, "Sfortuna" is better than medicine. The problem here becomes feeling good because then you might not need Fine Before You Came, at least for the moment.

One cannot give a definitive score, which then changes, especially for an overall positive album like this, even though you wouldn't associate it with a 10-letter word that starts with C. Emotions and moods are not always the same and have no price, and "Sfortuna" and its distribution well represent this concept.

To be fermented in the cellar and sipped in small doses.