Repeater
We Walk From Safety

THE REVIEW

There was a moment in my musical life when I would buy every record produced by Ross Robinson blindly, knowing it would be freaking awesome. This period stopped with "...Burn, Piano Island, Burn" by The Blood Brothers. From that moment, I made sure to listen before purchasing anything with his involvement. In cases like Repeater's, I even found some pleasant surprises.

I have never been a fan of the so-called """"""heirs"""""" to Joy Division like White Lies or Editors, but in this case (and with O.Children) I was pleasantly surprised. The reason is simple. This little group has a singer who offers a lyricism that truly stirs something, with a unique voice that is not always "suitable" for the proposed genre. Even musically, I found truly pleasant emotional outings.

The album opens with the "lyrical" "Yours And Mine" with a voice on the verge of suffering that travels on a bed of guitar "noise-moods" that gradually introduce the other instruments, while the voice continues its path of dehumanization, melting into an emotional sea, and grows, grows until it explodes with a guitar attack. The indie-dance attack of "To Swallow Last Goodbyes" is a torrent that crashes its waves on a very slowed-down and rarefied refrain, leading to verses full of smothered rage. "Black And Selfish Love" is almost epic, and in the chorus, Scott Krolikowski's voice edges on the anguish of the young Jonathan Davis (the current one might as well stop with the nonsense (in fact, it’s not a coincidence Munky from Korn recruited him for his new band, Fear And The Nervous System, whose first release from the upcoming album I recommend you listen to whenever the hell it comes out), and the guitars draw melodic flourishes in counterpoints with a style reminiscent of The Edge.

In short, not exactly the album of the year but truly sad and disconsolate. Suitable for the summer. Enjoy the post ferrastronzo.