Stigmathe
Suoni puri dalla libertà

Within the successful saga of Italian hardcore, Stigmathe occupy a rather marginal role. Far from the glories of the mythological protagonists known to all (Negazione, Raw Power, Nerorgasmo, and so on), but also far from the maniacal cult that supporting acts like Crash Box and C.C.M. have carved out over thirty years, groups like Stigmathe belong to the third tier: the forgotten for completionists. Very unjustly, I would add.

The Modenese deserved something more because they had something more compared to others. A greater ability to engage, a more effective songwriting even in simple songs, a more convincing sound, however you want to put it. The fact is that once you listen to them, it's hard to forget Stigmathe. Their career was brief: they formed in 1979, split in 1986, but until '83 released nothing, a rarity in the punk scene of the time. It is evident, therefore, that those four years of apprenticeship served Fabrizio Bucciarelli, leader and voice, to get a very clear idea of the music he wanted to play: so clear that the first lineup didn’t fit in, leaving him at the end of '82, forcing him to recreate the band from scratch. After stage rehearsals, they were finally ready to record, and shortly thereafter released the live cassette "Hardcore Vivo" and this 7" EP "Suoni Puri dalla Libertà", the first act of a diptych that would conclude two years later with the twin "Lo Sguardo Dei Morti".

Three songs are presented in this first 7", three songs that set the stylistic coordinates of a discourse that will be continued and expanded in the better, subsequent EP. The starting base is Discharge, on which are grafted the atmospheres and abrasive guitars of Killing Joke: to complete everything, the rebellious lyrics sung with a powerful and angry voice by Fabri. The first two tracks (the title-track and Corri e sopravvivi) are a punch in the stomach: d-beat drums, fierce bass, the aforementioned guitars inspired by English dark wave, give the sensation of a group that goes beyond blind fury and the iconoclastic slogans of their peers; it is rather an epic hardcore, powerful, weighed down by the influence of T.S.O.L. (not coincidentally explicitly cited in the title). But it is the third track, which occupies all of side B, that hits unexpectedly and remains impressed: Italia Brucia is perhaps Stigmathe's only true classic, a white reggae inspired by late '70s London punk, iconic in the chorus and driving in the Oi coda, once again confirming how much the Modenese had assimilated every aspect of English music of the period.

Good at first: but it is with the second 7" that Stigmathe really show what they are capable of; and I won't fail to review it as soon as I find a minute. See you soon!