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Rating: When I lived in London, I worked part-time in a little bar at the start of Old Street. I usually arrived at half-past ten, and after making cappuccinos and lattes for hordes of jerks, including the Pet Shop Boys, around half-past three or four when people stopped being hungry, I'd head back home.
The journey from Barbican to Queens' Park takes about thirty-five minutes; if you were unlucky and had to wait for both the train at Barbican and the interchange at Baker Street, it would take you around forty to forty-two minutes at most.
A memory that often comes to mind is leaving the restaurant to the notes of Kappler, and after my nice journey, doing the double loop around the block with Max Collini talking about the Lenin statue crying white tears like the ships of the Archangel port, to let the arches and the song finish before entering home, so as not to spoil it at the best part.
Socialismo Tascabile had already been out for a few months, but it was those very random double loops (no more than four) in London's suburbs that made me realize how beautiful it was.
Now I live in Madrid, and I got my hands on the new record for the first time while at Pepe Botella, a café with free wireless in Malasana. It was a rather desperate Thursday morning; the previous weekend I had fled from a house I had rented with all the related hassles to get my deposit back, the money was running out, and in this damn city, to find a house, you have to do interviews worse than job interviews.
Plus, the next day I would be kicked out of the hostel where I was staying because the upcoming weekend would be full, just like all the hostels in the city for some terribly stupid festival, I didn't have any friends who could host me, so I was very seriously considering the possibility of spending two nights at Baraja airport when I put on my headphones to listen to Bachelite.
I don't know if I was in a particularly receptive psychological state for lulling guitars and moog and melodic regrets about one's youth, but at "the Germans know their business," my eyes welled up, and I smiled spontaneously despite everything.
Love at first sight.
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Other reviews
By 110188
"Bachelite wins you over on first listen, struck above all by its essence."
"The only flaw is that it lacks a compelling single like 'Robespierre', but it works more on the atmosphere music can create."
By recovery_m
"Bachelite tells stories of recent times, sometimes in a whisper, other times shouting, but always with an intensity that gets inside you."
The binding element that strikes me and makes me love the entire work: the thoughtful and responsible use of vocabulary.
By damagedlemon
Bakelite confirms Offlaga as one of the few plausible hypotheses of Italian 'sensitive pop'.
The thematic guide of the tracks is... a low-intensity ideology, made of icons full of irreparably pop political substance.
