Tito & Tarantula
Tarantism

THE REVIEW

Cockroaches smoking marijuana.

There are places that, more than others, have inspired famous writers, directors, and screenwriters in search of magical and evocative landscapes that could speak for them, and even painters in search of new colors to enrich their palette. Music is no exception and finds here in this borderland the right habitat for the surreal stories of Tito & Tarantula. Here, between Southern California and Mexico, Tito Larriva moves at ease, a true frontman dressed like a gunslinger with sunglasses, the trusty sidekicks Peter Atanasoff (lead guitar) and one Hernandez (drums and percussion) with the addition of a skirt-wearing bass player who resembles Tura Satana.

Not exactly the four you'd sit at the card table with.

This debut album, year 1997, is a half masterpiece. Just look at their faces and just listen to their music.

Almost impossible to categorize, they sound like no one else. As if at an unlikely crossroads, southern rock and the blood-red blues of the southern United States meet with the melancholy that certain chicano guitars know how to evoke, and on the other, a harder and even dirtier soul if possible; all sprinkled with Tito Larriva's unmistakable voice that effortlessly imparts dark and romantic atmospheres at will.

Propelled to the limelight by Robert Rodriguez thanks to the music and appearances in From Dusk Till Dawn, (those who play at the Titty Twister and turn into vampires are them) and Desperado (here only Tito), they unfortunately never truly broke through, which makes them all the more (if ever there was a need) a cult band.

Produced with four hands by Tito and Rodriguez himself, this "Tarantism" is a tex-mex soundtrack for a raid in the Mexican desert and the exact sound translation for the films of the director, now Tarantino's right-hand man. Rodriguez sniffed out the immense talent of this unique band. Unique for their attitude but especially for the sound they have; a true trademark that cannot be traced back to anyone else.

Ten tracks made just to let loose, to sway in wild dances ""Angry Cockroaches" above all, or to take a siesta swinging in a hammock ""Flying In My Sleep". ""After Dark" with Atanasoff's lead guitar (standing out throughout the album) introduces us, with great atmosphere, to this musical journey.

I look around and already understand that I find myself unwillingly in a dangerous place, I let myself be carried away by Tito's sinuous and spicy voice and find myself leaning against a filthy counter, sipping the worst quality whiskey and tequila. In my ears ""Smiling Karen" and ""Slippin'& Slidin'" where southern tradition, electric blues, and slide guitars clash, involving you from the start. Like it happened to me, listening to "Tarantism," you'll find yourself dodging bullets and stools thrown mid-air by tattooed smugglers, singing <<Don't Look Back, Don't Look Back...!! >>, while clean sounds à la SRV mix with the Texas boogie of the best ZZ-TOP. To give you an idea of the mood you feel listening to this handful of songs (quoting Tito himself) one might say "if I am nearer to heaven or one step closer to hell". You're charmed but at the same time afraid that something sinister might happen.

Tito's songs tell of losers, unscrupulous people, shady dealings, secrets taken to the grave, but also of loves and overwhelming passions always seen from his perspective. So, for every bunch of roses or night of love, know that someone will have paid the right price made of scars and tears shed.

Whether they are splendid mariachi ballads ("Sweet Cycle" and "Back To The House") or infernal blues ("Jupiter") Tito does it his way, using guitars in guacamole sauce and his voice which truly takes on a thousand forms: sweet, dreamy, whispered and a moment later stains the timbre becoming hoarse and you almost smell the mescal coming out of his mouth and filling the air.

In the end, this album will bring many people together, many with different tastes will find themselves sitting at the same counter among clouds of tobacco, captivated by those guitars that will make you say <<hombre otra cerveza...>>.

While the final notes of ""Killing Just For Fun" resonate in the air, mixing with the red dust raised by my boots, I hasten my step towards the Californian border thinking that once again I've made it home in one piece. I swear this is the last time... yes, yes.

Meanwhile, as I look for some shade and pull up my sweaty pants, it dawns on me that I left without paying. I don’t think it’s a good idea to owe debts to people like that in a borderland.... I should go back, yes but not now.

The sun is setting, it's getting dark... and you never know.

Adios.

The opinion of Commendator Bossolazzi:

<< Quattrodimazzo e una scopa cinque!.....Nespole ovviamente>>.