Squadra Omega
Altri Occhi ci Guardano

Other eyes are watching us, and whether they refer to a simple mirror or some esoteric metaphor, I couldn't say, but a few days ago I found myself inadvertently wandering back into that, during those twenty minutes of a summer sunset when birds fly without apparent reason mingling with bats.

2015, a stone to chew on in the prolific discography of these deviant fellow townspeople for whom I would gladly exploit the well-known 92 minutes of applause. A record that features angles from all sides, both in sound and rhythm, among mechanical movements that unravel and flail, smooth out, and flow together like water until they become indistinguishable.

Framed as psychedelic jazz almost without coordinates, I feel pleasure and peculiarity in the completely aseptic and desolate conception of rhythm, on tracks that become labyrinths and twist into fragile melodies. To my ears, Il labirinto drowns the head in a broth of "bitches" (well), among the lucid illusions of Hyosciamus and the unhealthy hallucinations of the title track, then in the end, each one is each. But it was one of their concerts that left me with the impression of a jazz without space and time, sitting among the pyramids, with tunics, saxophone, electric sounds, and various spices.

You listen to it today, it seems like it came out tomorrow, and you are amazed that it's from yesterday, but they say the matter of time is relative. Not only does it resonate with me as a great stimulus to stain the sky with thoughts, but since I gave it even just one of my two ears, it has settled up there, hovering expressionlessly like on the cover in my department of psychedelic sprawling with countermeasures. Uh.