Le Voci Atroci
Cattiveria Naif

From a rib of Mau Mau (trumpet, euphonium, etc.), the eccentric Andrea Ceccon quietly transitioned to the "body" winds in this new voice-only project (which the adjective "atroci" fits like a glove). Thus, in the distant 1997, this pseudo band of anarchists, lunatics, demented, frenzied, and unmissable was born (having seen them live, I can vouch for the exact definitions reported here!). A sort of "Neri per Caso," but much more experimental, absurd, and underground, with a cappella voices accompanied by sounds made with hands, feet, ears, bums, and anything our body can produce alone or "assisted" (I’m an eyewitness in live performances!).
It’s not something entirely new, mind you, but in the scarce Italian landscape, seeing a band emerge that elevates absurdity to a true form of Art (with a capital 'A'), quoting the "masters of the genre" Elio e Le Storie Tese and the "colleagues" Skiantos (forever disputing the parentage of the absurd genre in Italy), is a great breath of fresh air and at the same time a signal that brings (brought?) good humor. Because the record is imbued with JOY and GOOD HUMOR (the "intelligent" kind, not the forced one from Boldi-De Sica, just to be clear), so much so that in certain parts, you laugh until you cry.

The album is an actual catalog of styles, genres, and trends: everything and more in just over 45 minutes of sonic "helzapopping." Reggae, Surf, doo-wop, rap, rock'n'roll, opera, country, jungle-hop, lo-fi, blended and reshuffled in more or less short fragments for voices only. And what voices! It begins with the classic INTRO mixing Russian choirs, accordions, Bulgarian voices, children's choirs in just 50 seconds, serving as an unmistakable calling card for what's to come! It truly starts with TIGRI, where the voices lend themselves to Zappa-like digressions mixed with African sounds and various nonsense: splendid. SON GELOSISSIMO (complete with human-voice-played guitar) takes us to 60ies territory, almost a beach song obviously treated and distorted with operatic and heavy-metal inserts (it’s hard to explain, but trust me, it's true!). With track 4, they offer us a hilarious ringtone in the style of Spielberg’s E.T. for use on your answering machine (!?). The 5th track, QUANDO CALIENTA IL SOUL, aligns us with Elio & C. with intelligent lyrics sung on the seven musical notes DO-RE-MI, etc. I VIAGGI DI BEPPE arrives, and it’s incredible to hear the great quality of vocal blending that the five travel companions manage to put together. Here's the real gem of the album, the never-praised-enough MANDRIA, where the quintet performs a true chorus of various beasts to the notes of the Beach Boys (seen live, it’s the most out there and devastating thing I’ve ever seen in my life!!). Another 30-second interlude with an alternative answering machine takes us back to JIGGUIYD-IYD-IY, enough to make Zappa himself pale. The cover of IL CIELO IN UNA STANZA is, I believe, one of the most improbable versions ever heard in the history of Italian music (deliberately out of tune, disjointed, in 1 absurd minute like few others). Tearfully funny GAUMA in tight Genoese dialect (I suppose, but for all I know, it could be Bergamasque or from Como, but it matters little): a little tavern story perhaps less important compared to the rest. The track BELCANTO is beyond any grace of God, and I categorically refuse to define it other than to provide you with musical-visual coordinates: the usual Zappa, Manhattan Transfer, Captain Beefheart, Banda Osiris, Mickey Mouse, the Marx Brothers, Monty Python, Squallor, i Gufi, Giorgio Gaber...
Another message on the notes of "Let it Be" (the most normal thing in the album, finally a break!). With SALUTI DA SATURNO, the truce is over: you dive without a net into pure experimentation mixing ambient, trance music, ethno-world (the first two minutes sound like Miriam Makeba) with cartoon themes. LE VOCI ATROCI arrives, a kind of relaxed Bolero by Ravel for sighs and murmurs, almost epic, which, after 1 minute and a half, suddenly takes off into a strange spoken-swing. With THE OSPITE, a kind of monologue à la Gaber vomited at 150 words per second, I begin to feel melted and frankly tired: too much to digest for the standards we’re used to with our domestic records, and the track has so "little musical inventiveness" that it almost feels banal. The album closes with the classic mariachi piece DE DOMINGO A DOMINGO recorded live (like almost the entire album!!) fun and rowdy as it should be, with banjo, castanets, and half-drunk, off-key, totally scrambled choirs.

A slightly long album but highly rewarding for the money spent, chock-full of ideas that could provide sustenance for two years across three groups combined. Definitely best enjoyed live, as I did about 8 years ago in a smoky Milanese nook with my then-companion who was left astounded and overwhelmed (so much so that she married me, if that isn't madness...). Masterpiece. Let me say it again, to avoid any doubt: MAS-TER-PIECE. Question: does anyone know what happened to them?