Six Minute War Madness
Full Fathom Six

THE REVIEW

Sometimes memories take over, and then escaping unscathed becomes a chimerical illusion. Even more reinforced by the fact that they increasingly confront us head-on, giving us no chance for reply.
And so, in this erratic April that challenges the season of flowers, I found my splendid companion.

Roughly imprisoned between scars of feedback, guitars, and odd times, these sixteen tracks from Six Minute War Madness represent the most interesting things that have happened in recent years amidst the corners of this peninsula.
It's written "Full Fathom Six". It's pronounced noise rock, but not only. Often, traces of certain post-rock also find their place. For example, in the proudly "Slint-like" guitars, absolute foundations of the compositions, or in the beautiful mathematical rhythms. Or, again, in the voice halfway between scream, song, and declamation.
The lyrics are sleek and bare. Appropriate, in their narrative mode, to be accompanied by the splendid instrumental plots.

The start is heart-pounding. Among disturbing whispers (Gli Incubi), illusory silences that reserve only the necessary time for the performers to tune up and explode in a matter of moments into diabolic noise parables yet in the form of a song and not an exercise in itself (Uomini Cattivi Non Ho Più L’Età Per Lasciarli Vivi, which already the title…), trails of dirty ballads made of introductory interference that go hand in hand with crystalline arpeggios and sink into bitter words that, willingly or not, speak sacred truths (Full Fathom Six). Leading them are fringes of electricity. And then, again, commendable vacuum-sealed narratives that refer to the memories of the lamented Massimo Volume (Washington Che Urla), anonymous interludes (in the true sense of the word, since they have no title!) for instruments only, thrown into the mysterious twists of the tracklist, and a heart-rending ballad (Panorama) to mark the epilogue of a record that can count on remarkable instrumental skills, an extraordinary production by Fabio Magistrali (also a musician in this case), here decidedly at ease and perhaps as never before.

Yes, now it's clear, memories take over and how could they not? In these days, after all, when the shelves of record stores are covered with the new highly anticipated release from Afterhours, I almost pretend not to know it. Because with the last album of Agnelli & Co., deep down even if it pains me to admit it, I preferred this one from Six Minute. And I don't think I'll be easily dissuaded. I pretend not to know it. To not know that Afterhours without Xabier Iriondo provoke a bit of melancholy in me. Just like this glimpse of April, where such an autumnal chill has returned to blow as to lay the skin bare.

And then, do you know what I say? I say that deep down if I prefer this “Full Fathom Six”(Santeria 2000) it's because I miss Xabier too much, and here I have the opportunity to perceive his presence, without much clamour. I certainly can't shirk.
I also think about this sky that doesn't want to stop crying and submerging the streets in swamps of dirty water and then I get angry and scream with them, because they seem cool and yet no one noticed them (or almost), or maybe it's just that this year I'm waiting for this damn spring with anxiety and she takes her time arriving. Then I don't even know why I wait for it so much. Or maybe I pretend not to know. It's all a pretending game.