L'OMBRA DELLA SERA
Segreti nel Nero

THE REVIEW

If you grew up (or were even just fascinated) by those RAI miniseries from the ’70s, maybe seen in reruns, you already know what we’re talking about: strange, slow, hypnotic atmospheres, often unsettling, all wrapped in that black and white that made everything even more mysterious. Segreti nel Nero is exactly this… but turned into music.

The project L’Ombra della Sera is born from the mind (and the heart) of the guys from La Maschera di Cera, who here have fun – and you can feel it – paying homage to a world that marked them as kids. And they do it in the best way possible: not just replaying the theme songs, but recreating them, expanding them, carrying them into a dark prog universe full of nuances. Right from the start, with “Albert e l’uomo nero” and “Gamma”, you’re immediately immersed in the mood: vintage synths, suspended atmospheres, that sense of “something’s not right” so typical of those series. It’s not sterile nostalgia; it’s really a journey. When “Ritratto di donna velata” begins, it gives you chills: it feels like seeing those slow, enigmatic images again, with the music lingering inside you. The work on the arrangements here is amazing, between mellotron, keyboards, and a truly cinematic touch. “A come Andromeda” is also wonderful, keeping that somewhat vintage sci-fi soul but making it broader, more “progressive”, while “La traccia verde” is pure tension, built superbly. Then there are surprises: “Fantastic Fly” has an almost funky/psychedelic touch you wouldn’t expect but it works, while “La ballata di Carini” is more narrative, almost dramatic, very evocative. But the real core of the album is “Le venti giornate di Torino”. Here it goes beyond a simple tribute: it’s a long suite, dark, almost disturbing in parts. Knowing it originated from a miniseries that was never made, based on a “cursed” novel by Giorgio De Maria, makes it even more fascinating. It truly feels like listening to something from another era… or from a parallel timeline. The ending with “Cento campane” and “A Blue Shadow” perfectly closes the circle, leaving you with that strange feeling, a little melancholic, a little uneasy. Just like when an episode ended and you were left there thinking about it.

One fundamental thing: the sound. They don’t mess around here. Real vintage instruments, no modern plastic, and you can really hear it. Everything is warm, enveloping, but also slightly “gritty” in just the right way. In short, Segreti nel Nero is a record for prog lovers, of course, but above all for those who keep those forgotten but powerful series in their hearts. It’s not just music: it’s memory, suggestion, atmosphere.

And yes, after listening to it, you’ll want to turn off the lights… and let yourself be a little unsettled.