The New Christs
Divine Rites

«Whenever I find myself with a sour expression on my face; whenever there's a damp, drizzling November in my soul; when I catch myself stopping involuntarily in front of coffin warehouses, or joining every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypochondria gets such an upper hand, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street and methodically knocking people’s hats off—then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.».

Don't call me Ishmael, but Pinhead: because in these cases, without even needing to embark, I go about hopping to the rhythm of the kangaroos. Just enough time to fish out from the dusty record collection any vinyl marked Australia '80.

This time, it's the New Christs' turn. And those who don’t know about the life, death, resurrection, and miracles of these guys have landed on the wrong page: I’m not here to explain Rob Younger to rookies!

I, the Rob Younger of the New Christs, hated him with all my might and would have gladly killed him. I mean, the band forms in 1980, and in eight years what does it do? Releases five singles for twelve songs; and each of those singles makes me feel like the album is coming, like someone lost in the desert believing an oasis is not just a damned mirage. Nine years, you took, damned Rob, to pull out an album, and luckily for you, «Distemper» is a record for life; because every time I listen to it, I forget the long wait in vain and forgive you for the suffering inflicted on me.

And a few months before «Distemper», «Divine Rites» arrives: those fateful singles all collected together, in front of me on the shelf of the trusted shop, and already then I understood that I would forgive Rob. Because «Divine Rites», even more than «Distemper», is the rock of the eighties, everything that anyone still waiting for the sequel to «Living Eyes» could desire.

And also because here are the two tracks that, for me, bring the Birdman epic to completion, «Born Out Of Time» and «I Swear».

They are just emotions: those of Rob Younger who at one point roars «Wanna make you understand that I was born out of time» and that roar is the most thrilling thing I’ve ever heard come out of the grooves of a vinyl in over thirty years; or those of the guitar attack of «I Swear» and it’s nice to think that there’s also Deniz Tek swearing allegiance to the cause and then when Rob comes in, you realize that there’s nothing more to do or say, except to stand amazed before such a wonder.

Everything else might absurdly fall into the background, from the steamroller «Like A Curse» to «You’ll Never Catch My Wave», a sort of «Aloha Steve And Danno» updated to current times.

As I had the chance to write in a previous entry, and excuse the self-reference: «...simply, for the past twenty-three years, rock'n'roll in its definitive version». It was December 14, 2010, and I wouldn’t change a comma.

And sorry if from these few lines, you understand little or nothing, except that whoever finds meaning in it is like a brother with whom to share an emotion.

Or, it is like a parent who «...in retracing their steps in search of the lost children, only found another orphan.». Because «Divine Rites» is as great as «Moby Dick», it makes your heart beat fast, and it enamors you.