Novembre
Arte Novecento

How to describe a feeling? It's impossible; you have to experience it. Simply because every emotion is both subjective and objective at the same time.

Subjective because each of us reacts differently to different stimuli, and objective because sensitive souls perceive it in practically the same way. The only difference at the base is the different experiences made during life up to that moment.

Try inserting this album into your player, and even the last barrier of subjectivity will be broken: even the most arid and hard heart cannot help but melt upon hearing the echo of the first notes of the acoustic guitar supported by a carpet of light yet incessant rain.
The notes will become more pronounced when the storm ceases, and subsequently, distortion will follow the same melody: ruthless, hard, but true. Without hypocrisy.
Welcome to the first track of Arte Novecento, "Pioggia... January Tunes." Moved by listening to the first song, we arrive at "Homecoming," a piece supported by a pounding yet never banal melody, where the drums, as usual, dominate, and the brief interventions of the singer are never out of place. The third track, "Remorse," releases us from the grip of the previous one by giving us an intro of acoustic guitar with light reverb, creating a sort of chase of notes where the voice tries to grasp a few, but in the end, seems to surrender and unleashes all its anger in a slight growl that precedes a pesky riff of distorted guitar supported by a double pedal that gives no respite; the song then closes with a few, melancholic notes, giving us the feeling of something unfinished, of abandonment.

The fourth, "Stripped," is a cover of Depeche Mode, and Novembre does an admirable job reproducing the song with their style and sounds. Nothing to say, all very beautiful. The fifth, "Worn Carillon," seems similar to "Homecoming" in musical structure, if not for the greater use of voice and an interval that seems played barehanded by the drummer: astonishing. The sixth, "A Memory," is perhaps the most fascinating track on the entire album: it begins with the gentle flow of what seems like a mountain stream, and shortly after, we witness the arrival of a distorted guitar riff that will accompany us, unchanged, throughout the song, and shortly after will replace the rush of water. The riff, just like the sound of water, will never change, while all around it, like the sounds of a mountain forest, the melodies of drums, voice, and bass will develop. The seventh track, "Nursery Rhyme," catapults us into the delicate world of music boxes and fantasy: listening to this song is like finding oneself among creatures of poignant and superior beauty, surrounded only by the wind and the clouds.
The eighth, "Photograph," is a direct, dry instrumental, almost acidic with its rhythm and a synthesizer that seems in perfect harmony with the percussion, leaving us in a final loop that seems to stretch into infinity. "Will," the ninth track, is perhaps one of the gentlest in the history of metal, if it weren't disfigured by the finale of a relentless drum asking us "Yes, I want you, and I won’t stop until you say yes!"

Without even noticing, we've reached the end of the album: time seemed to stretch into infinity during the listening of the nine tracks and is abruptly accelerated by "Carnival," the last song of the album. What can I say? A perfect closing with a memorable piece: a distorted riff, with reverb and wah-wah that will probably enter the hearts of all metal enthusiasts at the first listen. The alternation of slow and pounding phases then causes a kind of disorientation, as if we were in a labyrinth where every path seems to lead to the exit but inevitably finds us facing an insurmountable wall. The end of the song, and the exit, come, but at what cost?

At the cost of having left a piece of heart in this album, which, without exaggeration, is a masterpiece of metal not only Italian, but worldwide. Surpassed, perhaps, only by "Materia." Perhaps.