NID
A Fair Masquerade

A true apocalyptic scene in Italy does not exist. Those who have emerged have had to, out of necessity, go beyond the boundaries preached by the orthodoxy of the genre in its most classic definition. Spiritual Front, Ianva, Rose, Rovine e Amanti (the first names that come to mind) have aimed, each in their own way, at emphasizing ‘Italianity’, landing on spaghetti-western, tavern moods, and cabaret (Spiritual Front), progressive, and the light music of the national song tradition (Ianva), sacred music and the call of Mediterranean settings (Rose, Rovine e Amanti). Not always, alas, with satisfactory results. For this reason, it is with great pleasure that I approach the music of the NID from Puglia, finally a project that can be truly defined as apocalyptic, something hard to find in Italy.

Founded in Lecce in September 2011, NID embarked on a path that led them first to the release of the EP “Nature in Disguise” and then to a concert activity that saw them opening for acts such as Spiritual Front and Antimatter; under the protective wing of the visionary Spanish label La Esencia, their long-awaited debut album finally comes out: with “A Fair Masquerade” they do not fear comparing themselves to the great names of the genre (chiefly Death in June, Blood Axis), avoiding the risk of wanting to distinguish themselves at all costs, a path that has, in fact, distorted the journey of many. Between neo-folk and industrial, the Salento quartet (Luca Attanasio on vocals and synths, Cosimo Barbaro on bass, Luca Mazzotta on guitar, and Alessandro Mangione responsible for sampling and electronic parts programming) metabolizes an apocalyptic tradition now thirty years long, starting from the legendary “Brown Book” up to the present day: an artistic vision that seems to favor Blood Axis in their latest incarnation (those of the recent “Born Again”, released in 2010) and that ends up approaching the romantic and decadent poetic of Rome (the Rome of the “middle” works: “Confessions d'un Voleur d'Ames” and “Masse Mensch Material”).

But “A Fair Masquerade” is not simply a repetition of already existing styles, but rather an organic ensemble in which these influences are reread through a rigorous lens, implied by a personality that is already present, albeit still in the process of being defined. Beyond the courage of bringing to life a neo-folk project right in the middle of Salento (!!!), it is the substance, the high number of winning blows landed in this “epic work” that decrees its success, overwhelming and dispersing those inevitable uncertainties suggested by inexperience. “A Fair Masquerade” is, first and foremost, an album of quantity, and this does not mean it lacks in quality, on the contrary. It's an album of quantity because it lasts more than an hour and contains no less than thirteen tracks; it's of quantity because it avoids every minimalist temptation, which often happens where a monicker hides a one-man band.

NID, on the other hand, is a real group with skilled musicians. The sound they create is rich and full of nuances, and much credit for the success of the operation goes undoubtedly to Barbaro's bass, which, in addition to blending the band's two souls (the acoustic and the electronic one, with Mangione being the dark weaver of iron curtain scenarios), gives depth and solidity to the compositions. Compositions that, often animated by a percussive verve that envelopes them in a dense martial aura, swing between the typical folk ballad and the industrial solution. Absolute protagonists: 1) the weary, titanic singing of the talented Attanasio, hovering between recitation and declamation (and I hope I'm complimenting him by saying his timbre is similar to that of Michael Moynihan); 2) the versatile guitar of Mazzotta, who in more than one instance transcends the typical apocalyptic chords, to weave imaginative arpeggios, notes strung together with skill and liveliness that betray a vague Mediterranean ancestry. The land of sea and sun is only invoked in the “baroque” approach with which the described scenarios are outlined, because for the rest (as suggested by the image on the cover) the world evoked by NID is a leaden dimension, dense with clouds, plagued by a decadent spleen that harmoniously coexists with a spirit of invincible resistance.

Because the masquerade ball, the staging NID talks about, is that circle of hypocrisy and uniformity that poisons social coexistence throughout our existence, up until the final masquerade, the definitive, ultimate one in which, stripped of conventions and masks, naked, alone, we will face Death. In coherence with the represented concept, the path outlined by NID is one of Truth, of solitude (“Am I born to fight alone? Am I Born to shine alone?”), of painful contemplation and inner search. Perhaps destined for inevitable defeat, but certainly for growth.

Musically, “A Fair Masquerade” exhibits the typical flaws of a debut album: the production is good, but less flat, descriptive, didactic sounds would have improved the picture, where, in the effort to make every instrument and effect distinguishable (something evidently sought and wanted), they appear slightly plastified, especially those used for the percussions and orchestral parts. From the writing standpoint, the influences are still evident and inevitably reference the genre's classics. It is legitimate, finally, that “A Fair Masquerade” falls into the frenzy of want-to-put-it-all-in that seizes young bands before their debut: hence the tendency to disperse into non-essential solutions, all elements, ideas, sensations probably scattered, accumulated, and sedimented over the past two years. Marginal points of weakness that do not detract from the overall value of the work, because, as was said, “A Fair Masquerade” remains (in a positive sense – even Pink Floyd’s “The Wall” was) a record of quantity, within which high-level moments reside: as the minutes pass, we are convinced of the goodness of the work.

An opus therefore made up of contrasting sensations. If the introduction “1-982” risks falling into predictability and slipping away without leaving a mark, the next track “Again”, with its ability to enchant and suspend time, with its solemnity, bitterness, with its undeniable evocative power, is surely the best calling card the band could offer the listener. Opus of contrasts, as was said, thus it is not surprising that after a piece like “Shattered Flowers”, centered around ruthless patterns of icy electronics, we encounter the mystic warmth of Gregorian chant that opens “North’s Fire”. A record that fully adopts the English language, but also includes a song in Italian (the suggestive “Ultimo”, which is actually half instrumental).

And we are not scandalized if at the end of the formidable quartet “Sulphur Soul”/“Always”/“Golden Beast”/“Loss”: an incredible sequence in which the first track sees none other than Nick Cave from his golden age flirting with the best Death in June; the second is a martial escalation recalling the morbidness of the prestigious duo Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio/Spiritual Front; the third, another harsh ballad that continues to reference the Blood Axis from their latest fantastic work; the fourth, a simply splendid track (for the writer, the peak, not only conceptual but also emotional of the entire work), a heartfelt anthem to an indomitable individualism perhaps destined to founder against the world of conventions and social determinism; we are not scandalized, as was said, if after the tears shed, the perceived pathos, the vitality tested during the epic-ending of the gripping “Loss”, we find the silence and the death knell of “Einsamkeit Buried in Sun”. And the dark and intimate progress of the subsequent ballads.

And if the funereally-named “Standing among the Ruins” delivers us the NID in synthetic form, to uproot again the entire electronic armor, we find the nine minutes of the concluding “White Rooms”, a bloody ride in Sol Invictus style boasting an intense and belligerent instrumental coda, as heart-wrenching as it is damn apocalyptic (as the greatest badass among the apocalyptic folksters, aka Tony Wakeford, teaches): an inevitable farewell for an album that ends up surprising even the most experienced listener, offering a first part not devoid of uncertainties but rich in good hints, and a second practically perfect.

Paraphrasing the lyrics of one of their songs, whether these NID will have to fight in solitude is unknown, but they will surely shine in the pale sky of the Italian apocalyptic landscape.