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The belief that culture and art belong roughly to the left is a widely spread postmodern conviction. Practically a reversal of the general conditions of the era when it somewhat made sense to talk about working masses and bourgeois exploiters. At the time, cultural hegemony served a purpose, and it was (always greatly simplifying) right-wing. Today, as occasionally stated by someone whose psychological state seems situated midway between an epic persecution complex and a dramatic delusion of grandeur (all unjustified things, anyway), cultural hegemony belongs to the left. And he is right. It's just that it is the only thing left (which one, then?) because we are now under a soft dictatorship of inculture. Well, digressions that ultimately have little to do with it. The core concept is that the right, for reasons which it's not appropriate to outline here, generally has little cultural, artistic, and musical background.
The general situation of the niche phenomenon called alternative music seems to confirm and encourage this belief with a robust pat on the back. Generally, the paucity of the scene, from what I have investigated, is tragic: apart from the evergreen and friendly displays of disinterested love for such a beautiful Abyssinian (a love that appears irreconcilable with the surely homoerotic love for the Great Dictator, with masochistic peaks that remained unmatched until '94), the music by which the modern fascist should feel represented seems to want to be the emblem of an imaginative electro-Celtic land where the most misunderstood Tolkien wildly mates with the entire Afrika Korps, with the uncontrolled birth of hardcore punk bands with fabulously twenty-year-old Italian lyrics as a consequence. Hmm.
Then I very randomly discover Skoll on TuTubo. (Skoll, not the Skoll, indeed.) He seems different, I say to myself. Yes, okay, the Nordic-wolfish pseudonym (and he really won't reveal his real name, this guy, not even on his website) is worthy of a comrade of Burzum, but he seems different. And I admit to myself that "Pioggia d'Irlanda", for having been written by a fascist, is truly beautiful. For having been written by a fascist. But it is beautiful. For having been written by - well, to satisfy my self-incensement of open-mindedness, I decide to listen to an entire record. This one.
This album is strange, funny. I think he recorded it all by himself: guitars, piano, and sampled strings (which look quite good). Which is already atypical for an identitarian. The other peculiarity is the approach, at times hermetic and also reasonably sophisticated. The young man has quite a nice, strong, evocative voice. Well, let's see where he wants to go.
"Notturno futurista", which opens the lictorian dances, is a program from the title itself. Text annoying for the content and pompous in the manner, but not without a certain grace and capacity for abstraction. Already something. And musically, I'm sorry to say, but it really doesn't bother me. It grips, has a strong melody, and moves confidently, with more than convincing strings. Yes, but you can't write a chorus with phrases like "Among futuristic rides, women are seduced, tenderness of steel [...] to those who have already betrayed, no mercy will come." No, you can't. You kill the song and insult my intelligence like that. Well, in the end, it's what he thinks. Unconstitutional, but in the end, I also once threw a piece of paper on the ground.
"L'era della spada" fortuitously comes to offer me a juicy pretext to mess it up. I don't know, here it sounds practically like Manowar in Italian. A choir of overlapping vocal claims, with tough pretenses, proclaims "fire, flames! Iron, flames!", while a megaphoned Skoll insists: "Discipline! Courage! Revenge!" and such nonsense. And then comes him (well, technically it's still him, but the "solo" him...you know what I mean) who lyrically foretells and warns: the era of the sword will return! With such an embarrassing falsetto at the end. And I laugh, heartily, while he lists with remarkable synthesis his version of history from Cro-Magnons onwards.
"Bushido" flows without leaving a mark, despite the mystical-Japanese ambitions. (Oh yes, resorting to the Axis' proud allies to inappropriately grab some culture and adapt it to fascist mysticism...) Yes, but he has a lovely voice. Yes, but why such exaggerated emphasis? Why, at some point, those inappropriate falsettos? At least here there's a vague electric guitar and a nice arrangement to mask them... oh well.
And then we get to "Pioggia d'Irlanda". Curious how both the far right and the far left are crazy about the IRA, just like Palestine. He, as a good person persecuted by the unjust law of the democratic swine, feels exiled and in solidarity. Well, whatever he wants to be, he has written a beautiful song. Poetic, genuinely moved. With an epic melody. Oh dear, the text is always somewhat irritating and has some ugly slip-ups, but it fits: "Erin Go Bragh" and other beautiful traditional Celtic hymns have worse (much more contextualizable, anyway).
"Sotto la pelle" is irritating. Even the melody and arrangement (a moderately alleviating piano, and that's it). No, not this one. And again with those damn falsettos, damn it. Do you understand that you're not one of the Campagna Cousins? (With all due respect, eh.) And nobody believes that you're hard and invincible just because you then throw in the certain spits of "on your ssSSskin." Lucky it's short.
"Tutto parla di noi" (self-centered!) doesn't start badly. Too much emphasis, but it's forgivable. Too much pity for the poor exiled and mistreated fascists, and this is unforgivable, but well, my opinion. Too bad that, guess what: just when it seemed to have almost found a meaning for itself, in the chorus it starts with the usual falsetto. A' Scòlle, excuse me, but what a bore.
"Identitario" is the only one in the batch that wants to be rock, or so it seems. It quite succeeds, in a broad sense, and it's listenable without having to stop due to physiological irritation. At least if you don't listen to it attentively, and if you ignore those damn slogans stuck between the verses. Usual faults, but at least no falsettos.
"La congiura delle polveri". Yes, okay, but now explain the connection. Even with that musichall in the major key. And okay, it's not strictly necessary to adhere to metrics, but you'd need to catch your breath sometimes.
"Vent'anni": another sickly sweet piano and another anti-anti-fascist invective. Particular applause to the kitsch/vintage of verses like "informers, dancers, and infamous reds". Oh well.
"Dio della guerra": falsetto. Okay, enough. Done.
It might be commendable (yes, well, not that there was any need for it) to forcibly glue a depth to neo-fascism, although it's not the first attempt. And Skoll surely has a certain culture (which perhaps has disagreed with him, and I sincerely wish so) and decent potential. Yes, it's all very lovely and open-minded, yes, the cultural references are clear, and of course, I'm not here to make an apology for futurist aesthetics, which honestly even slightly bug me. But the Japanese tradition, Yukio Mishima (to whom Skoll apparently dedicated a concept album), the Irish independence cause, Guy Fawkes, Sparta (see title)... what the hell do they have to do with that bloody, disastrous on all fronts, and moreover ridiculous farce that was fascism? I'm sorry, dear, but I can't immerse myself in listening as if I were indifferent to the existence of flawed individuals like you. And I can't help but consider you, to my utmost regret, as a wasted talent, and not only for the ideas you promote. But hey, if you're happy, little wolf.
I found the chords to "Pioggia d'Irlanda". I might strum it a bit, feeling a mild shame, then I'll listen to Stormy Six. Just to compensate.
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