Malleus
Paranorm Op. I

The legendary and extremely expensive Fairlight was an integrated sound synthesis and processing system that took the '80s by storm, when some wealthy artists and recording studios could boast records produced solely with this instrument. Something that seems completely normal today - given that there are those who create amazing albums with just one keyboard - was then still quite incredible. And incredible was also its price: at the time, it was said to cost a few hundred million old lira.

One of the fortunate owners of the Fairlight in Italy was Enrico Ragni, known as Malleus, who had set up a recording studio in the Marche region worthy of the highest global standards. Malleus, a lover of mysteries and esotericism, and a musician of the Vangelis school (to name one), spent a long time composing a work inspired by paranormal experiences that occurred in his own region. Specifically, a sort of visionary trance that took place in 1978 at the Rocca degli Ottoni, experienced firsthand and endorsed by an expert in the field like Massimo Inardi.

From this experience, Ragni began creating a sonic work to describe and evoke impressions and sensations, trying to involve the listener in his states of mind and what he felt during that astonishing moment.

What better opportunity to put the expensive Fairlight to work? Being a powerful synthesizer-sampler, Ragni-Malleus set out to recreate magical and unsettling atmospheres populated by ancient sinister processions, evil voices, sighs, laughter, and more. This is how the suite Paranorm Opera I was born, occupying the entire side A of the vinyl (meticulously packaged and filled with information in two languages). The record was released in 1988 on the MGM label, but the liner notes tell us that Malleus had been working on its tracks since 1982.

Regardless of the truth of the evoked events, the musical result seems not too far removed from the soundtracks of horror films, where dark orchestral scores alternate with lyrical chants from the underworld and supernatural presences. Thus, giving the impression that this suite was more of a desk-engineered product than one born from spontaneous inspiration. The Fairlight ensured precision and dynamic timbre, with absolutely excellent technical quality; yet its strong descriptiveness left little room for imagination, and the intrinsic value of the work itself today seems somewhat superficial.

Moreover, the B side of the vinyl featured two pieces detached from the esoteric theme, further subtracting charm from the entire work. The first, "Celebration of a storm," played over a beautiful female voice (sic!) warbling among a tapestry of rain and thunder. The second, "The window of the time," subtitled (sic!) as a tribute to Vangelis: over five minutes of Vangelis-like thought, with predictable sounds and a melody entirely conforming to the style of the Greek musician.

The conclusion I draw from this record, ultimately, is that a technological gem like the Fairlight was used in an unoriginal way and at its minimal potential. And further, the expectations raised by the title and source of inspiration were betrayed by the concern to convey the idea with a great display of means, neglecting the emotional and subconscious approach. Especially in light of the fact that instead of using the entire album length to immerse the listener in the Beyond, Malleus filled the gap with those two additional tracks that had nothing paranormal about them.

It's a pity, because Enrico Ragni was a significant figure, with ingenious ideas and remarkable sensitivity. But this record is beneath his possibilities and, in fact, did not convince many of his admirers.