Mogwai
Come On Die Young

The speaker behind which lies the faint voice of IGGY POP in the first track leads us to the substantial contents of “Come on die young”, the third album (including what is a complete collection, albeit of unreleased tracks of Ten rapid) by the Scottish post-rockers.
The unease that drips from the cover of the album is found largely in the long suites that characterize this dark creation. Throughout the dozen tracks and the span that reaches seventy minutes of music, you will hear football commentary voices (?!) assembled with sinuous rolls of incessant and wavering beats (perhaps due to new wave), perfect intertwines of electric guitars, some dirty flute scores, and the necessary citations in piano phrasing (Satie is glorified here).

There is more. In “Cody” you hear them sing that sweet melody that many still recognize as a masterpiece of slow-core (what? Ah yes, pardon, Glasgowcore!). Not that they are wrong, after all.
And if you think that only “Cody” is enough to exorcise those dirty banknotes in your pockets, fortunately, you will reassess almost immediately. Each single track here hides a small treasure to keep, little secrets never revealed (remember Twin Peaks, the early '90s television series by Lynch and masterfully scored by the genius Badalamenti?).
Already from the title, “How The Dogs Stack Up” (how the dogs stack up!?) agitates even the hardest souls. First, it corrupts you and then knocks you down.
Traversing the dark circle of stacking dogs, an “Ex-cowboy”, repatriated in the city, commits a massacre of nostalgic hearts with vertiginous instrumental crescendos lasting about ten inexhaustible minutes.

In “Chocky”, soft breaths live alongside the anguish of sadness that can only scratch the days waiting for a much-desired phone call. All seasoned with explosions of guitar feedback, a dominant piano, and a rhythm that becomes sharper with the passing beats. But it doesn't age.
There is no time to recover from the immense journey offered by two colossal consecutive sound paradises before the third arrives.

“Christmas steps”. I'll never stop loving this enchantment of chiaroscuros. Two guitar knots initially sound like calm after the storm, but it is only momentary and more unreliable appearance. The tension stretches and collects the grief gathered along the way. At 3'48", the bass begins to pulse agitatedly, and in a shared intention, calls the other instruments to create an indescribable noise opening and a dazzling closing of violin that seems to come from another dimension. No, I'll never stop praising it. In my opinion, one of the masterpieces of the last ten years.
After the umpteenth explosion, there is only time for a short instrumental epilogue for trumpet and noises that picks up the discourse from where it started. Thus, until infinity.
When they do not become masterpieces, the other tracks brush perfection. Perhaps even intentionally.

I bought “Come on die young” immediately after its release, driven by some samples heard carelessly.
Since then, I have started playing it for all the people I met along the way, so proud I was to own it.
With all the advertising I did for it… I could have enjoyed a nineteenth-century villa in a country lane. And instead.
So sooner or later, I'm leaving this chaste, frozen apartment.