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Rating:
THE REVIEW
The first album wasn't bad. A gust of anger placed in a "young" singer-songwriter context and a bit indie-punkish. Evasive lyrics. Derivative. Intimate and full of references to Brondi's personal experiences. But the feeling I had, listening to it after a few times, was that of an association with Manuel Agnelli of Afterhours: shooting wildly at flocks of birds, sure that "I'll hit at least one." A lot of depression.
This second work does not differ from the previous one by a comma. Like a pile of junk on which we have invested our desires for disappearance. It could have moved on its own, perhaps even vanished. Disappear forever. But it stayed there. It has always been there and has always been the same. An album I rejected after just three tracks. Something that hadn't happened to me in years.
"For now, we will call it happiness". But who are we? What we hear is nothing but (now) the glorification of a self-reference that has become structural, without content. A container in which to jot down random thoughts, contemptuous of a single will oriented towards annoyance. A steamroller with starting problems that slowly crosses the highway of our balls.
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Summary by Bot
The reviewer finds the second album by Le luci della centrale elettrica largely unchanged from the first, lacking evolution or new content. The work is described as depressive and self-referential without meaningful substance. The reviewer quickly rejected the album, citing frustration with its stagnant style and repetitive themes. The comparison to Manuel Agnelli’s style underscores a sense of aimlessness masked as artistry.Tracklist Videos
Le luci della centrale elettrica
Le luci della centrale elettrica is the musical project of Italian singer-songwriter Vasco Brondi from Ferrara, frequently described in the reviews as a defining voice of the Italian "zero years" generation, combining stark, post-industrial imagery with shouted, effects-heavy minimal songwriting and later broader arrangements.20 Reviews
Other reviews
By Vimo
His words are thinking bombs: they hit you and tear you deeply.
Vasco is like that: either you love him or hate him, but you can’t help giving him at least a listen.
By Bert
The sounds this time are rich, hefty, connected, and well-structured.
From the desecrated beach, we can now look up to our portion of stars, searching for our story.
