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Rating: Is there neo-folk in Italy? No, but there are Spiritual Front.
Or maybe there were.
At long last, the awaited follow-up to the much-discussed "Armageddon Gigolo" (from 2006), which brought the Roman band to the spotlight, known until then only in neo-folk circles, is released. The secret of the success? "Updating" the stale dictates of the genre in light of a renewed songwriter's verve that drew heavily from the nocturnal and smoky settings of the "usual suspect" (did someone say Nick Cave?), all surrounded by spaghetti-western suggestions, '50s reminiscences, bisexual audacities, and suburban tavern vibes: a restyling (also reflected in their look and iconography) that seemed to fit perfectly with our guys, who remain Romans at heart. Cleverness? Genuine inspiration? The fact is that the formula worked and "Armageddon Gigolo" ran smoothly and beautiful, and even where you wanted to find plagiarism, naivety, or easy solutions, you were always surprised by a catchy chorus or consistently inspired songwriting, so much so that it seemed the change was dictated by real artistic needs. And probably it was so: although not shining for excessive originality, Spiritual Front have been a breath of fresh air within the scene, so much so that in recent years, their actual influence on many bands within the blurred borders of neo-folk is noticeable (especially their friends Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio).
Very well, success is a beautiful thing: sales, interviews, great concerts, esteem from everywhere, etc., but then the fateful moment of delivering a new album had to necessarily come.
It seemed to me that Spiritual Front were stalling lately: better to do one more concert than return to the recording studio... Let's try this piece live to see the effect, but the audience continued to cheer for "Cruisin'", "I Walk the (Dead) Line", "Jesus Died in Las Vegas", "Slave", the ones that over time were becoming the real classics of their repertoire. And the new pieces? Yes, nice, sound more pop, but can you compare them with "Jesus Died in Las Vegas"? It was May 2009, and between one piece and another, Salvatori announced the imminent release of "Rotten Roma Casino."
Then nothing was heard anymore. I don't want to rush to judge, maybe they had a thousand hassles, but a doubt arises: the doubt that these guys, people, didn't know what the hell to invent anymore. Maybe they ran out of ideas, or perhaps the inspiration went to hell. Who knows, there exist one-shot bands, right? Better not to disappear for too long; otherwise, we get forgotten, and then, are they or aren't they Salvatori?
So, here comes this infamous "Rotten Roma Casino", which already in the title tries to replicate the splendor of its predecessor. According to yours truly: a half disappointment. Provided that an album by Spiritual Front can really disappoint anyone.
For heaven's sake, the album isn't bad: well-played, well-arranged, well-packaged, stuffed with many nice things, female choirs, trumpets, accordions, cowbells, and more. But excuse me, where are the songs? Above all: where did Salvatori's voice go? I clearly remember his big voice of a damn screaming pervert. What happened to him in the meantime? Did he become sensitive? Today his little voice, often effect-laden, is crystalline, clean, halfway between Morrisey and Bowie during Ziggy Stardust (illustrious comparisons, certainly, but Salvatori is neither one nor the other). A vocal refinement that goes hand in hand with the softening of a musical proposition that indulges increasingly in arrangement rather than content. The problem isn't so much that the whole work carries an ominous pop aura (since we are seasoned listeners and are no longer surprised by anything), but the fact that the pieces don't leave a mark, often coming across as lackluster, sweetened reprises of what was proposed in the much more inspired predecessor.
Let's clarify one thing: the band's personality has been extraordinarily preserved, and everything inevitably sounds 1000% Spiritual Front, proving that our guys still represent a solid reality within today's European dark landscape (highlighting a further departure from neo-folk styles and an acceleration towards the shores of delicate, authorial dark-pop, more than ever infused with vintage echoes, read country and the fifties galore). The tracks retain their sensuality, they flow well (there are many languid slide guitars of the "I wish I were Chris Isaak" series), and if perhaps you have other things to do (write a review, for example), they can constitute a pleasant background; but beware of giving this music a leading role, because you will get bored, as the product of a journeyman who has no more cartridges to shoot has always been boring. Since the solutions remain the same, the lyrics are the usual amusing mishmash of love song, eroticism, and desecrating verve, but where there was the element of surprise and quite a bit of inspiration to drive the carnival, the formula, although refined, doesn't seem to work on its own unless reinforced by greater conviction. And for the most part with the déjà-vu effect weighing it all down. In other words: jackets and ties are no longer enough.
Everything flows well but anonymously, so much so that I wouldn't know which pieces to cite; all the tracks are nice, none are terrible, but none make you shout a miracle: "Sad Almost a Winner" is, for example, a good ballad filled with heart-wrenching melancholy, capable of showing an unprecedented sensitivity for the band; "My Erotic Sacrifice" is also enjoyable, compelling, with its retro-flavored arpeggiated guitars; also noteworthy is the Smith-like "German Boys," cheerful, bouncy, and comedic, which will surely become a classic
If you're die-hard fans of Spiritual Front, still give a listen to an album that would be a lie to call bad. But if you're new to Spiritual Front and curious about them, head straight to "Armageddon Gigolo": it won't change your life, but you'll spend a good three-quarters of an hour.
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