Kina
Se ho vinto Se ho perso

If I could give 55 stars instead of just 5 to rate this album, I would gladly give them all and maybe even a few more. There is a sad eagerness in Italy to always look beyond the ocean and then bow to His Holiness the United States of America, and thus the people from Aosta, the Kina, earned the flattering, without a doubt, label of "Huskers from the mountain," which is partly accurate but also very limiting.

I won't go on and on about who they were and what they did in the field of Italian hardcore; what matters more to me is to emphasize that this album, "Se ho vinto Se ho perso," is a gem that shines poetically, flows through your reflections and comes back again and again, and you find yourself putting it on and singing those songs with them under the stage full of enthusiasm, by yourself while working, booming recorded on some battered TDK tape in the car stereo (I still have the cassette car stereo...) and when maybe you haven't listened to a piece in a while and it comes your way again, it's almost impossible not to give it a listen and sink into memories, splendid memories. Reflecting on oneself, on the relationship between oneself and others, on friendship and daily difficulties, on the looming catastrophe, and on the apparent human inertia that leaves one astonished.

If poetry and hard music (hardcore) have ever met, well, in this album there was a true and warm embrace between the two artistic expressions, merging naturally, with the same naturalness and simplicity with which the three mountain men have always sung their songs. With this album, the Kina pushed hardcore far beyond its outdated musical and lyrical boundaries. An immense and unforgettable band, omnipresent in my heart. Huskers from the mountain?

I've always enjoyed thinking that it was the Huskers who were the Kina from Minneapolis.