Polly and Lisa entered the alchemist's lab at night, or Lauretta in her youth. Three witches for the price of one.
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If you can't sing, whisper...
If you whisper, do it loudly...
From the slits of your inner castle, a thousand dissonances will arrive, the psychotic constant rhythm, the wonderful chaos.
Imagine an adventurous guitar + a whole series of mishaps, the nicest being a drip, although I don't remember where...
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If the whisper is broken and disturbing, the sound arrangements are of restless adamantine exactness. Nightmares built with precision tools.
The sensation of horror juggling is jarring, all those gears like particles of anxiety, all those voices arriving.
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The songs seem to "be born" right there, the spider's web moment by moment, the ant's pace step by step.
Something relentless grips you, and you can't do anything to avoid its clutch.
Here there's a whisper that is a fall, a lilting illusion trying to escape...
"Even if one can never escape..."
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Ah, there are also a couple of almost normal songs, and they are at least captivating. Even Bisoli and Ballanti like them, whereas the others make their eyelids droop.
Sure, it would be nice to be just Lisa or just Polly. But what to do if you've rented the lab every single Thursday for a year?
Then, if we all crash into a wall, why not the songs?
Trallallà...
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