Infection Code
Fine

Unaware friend before the concert starts: "And what do these guys do?"

The not unaware tractor: "These guys do HARM" 

And it's true. "FINE" is a shining example of this. Shining like only pain can be.

Since "Intimacy", the color palette has been filled with blood that has mixed with the paints, creating something new, a breath of air that you struggle to understand if it is extremely clean or indelibly feral. One thing is certain: it is varied and evolving.

The passages on the edge of silence, the oscillating and "humid" noise, the tension that creates imbalance, the voice that whispers under the skin, synthesizing the moments, ten minutes of "Grey", which doesn't grow but opens like a mechanical flower. And then the "Gigerian" tribalisms of "Varnish", which instead grows more and more to explode into the nervous distortions of the deadly post-agony of "All Colours", dynamics that disorient, guitars muscles nerves and third eye. "Black Glue" blooms from an almost "illusory" intro, in almost silence, melody that smells of rust, and explodes into stomps and electric blasts. And the strength to draw out the pain from the walls of Sarajevo city, pierced by bullets and still dripping blood, after years, to do it again, borrowing the dark diamond of "Cupe Vampe" by the gentlemen C.S.I., interpreting the anger and soaking it with mud, embellishing it if possible. To leave you in a mogwaian finale, to make you understand that there is much more here... much more.

And it's really true that the end hurts, I had clearly told my friend.