Verdena
Wow

"Records must be listened to. Again, and again, and again."

When Joe Strummer walked into CBS studios in the winter of '79, holding a project of 37 tracks to be sold as a triple LP at the price of a double (which then ironically became a double at the price of a single), all he received from the administrators of the American major was a rather evident stiffening, probably accompanied by a hearty laugh, for what seemed like a completely mad venture. It was born from the sick idea of a group of quirky Brits to compose at least a couple of tracks a month throughout 1980 and to package everything into a gift for the listeners that was also consistent with Strummer's eternal battle against the high cost of music. The result, processed by Epic's production (effectively controlled by CBS), was “Sandinista!”: (almost) universally recognized as one of the best albums in rock history, another bastion of that experimentation known even to industry outsiders. It undoubtedly serves as a reference point for every true Clash fan who, in most cases, however, appreciates it only as an actual turning point in the band's evolutionary process and, certainly, at least after the second listen. Because, let's be honest, “Sandinista!” might be a fundamental passage, but -honestly- it’s an excessive bore, a load on one's proverbial, something that seems never-ending, exasperating compared to past experiences and experiences clearly more punk.

This is the flaw of the double album, already boasting illustrious precedents, from the “White Album” to “The Wall,” to “Mellon Collie,” “Trust Us” (Motorpsycho), or the much-anticipated double from the Flaming Lips (hoping they don't get hit by another stroke of bad luck), just to give a few examples, to eventually say what I want to say. The thing that made me laugh the most about this whole story of the release of the new Verdena album was certainly the race to comparison, the identification of possible influences on the Ferrari brothers' work more signora (because it seems you can no longer say signorina), and those just mentioned are only some of the most quoted: there are even those who invoke Air, ABBA, Kyuss (!!!), Radiohead, Queens of the Stone Age, Black Sabbath, Beach Boys, Battisti, and Battiato (?!?!). Which, honestly, starts to be a bit unsettling, because technically a musician could draw inspiration from anything, and at this point, you might as well thank Luca Ferrari's dog (or is it Luca Ferrari who acts like a dog?) and the birds in the sky that chirped to be recorded in “Grattacielo.” In short, although some references may seem evident, perhaps it would be wise to forego a search that could also be frantic and misleading.

A new Verdena album comes out, which sounds exactly like Verdena, meaning that it adequately reflects the previous experience of the Bergamasque band and its position (if one must necessarily be given) in the fold of the Italian alternative rock scene; and, as such, it opens with a strong sense of continuity compared to the sound of previous works: “Scegli me (Un mondo che Tu non Vuoi)", a piercing declaration of love with a bittersweet flavor, surely destined to stir the heart (especially for the ladies - choose me, for her I would explode), sounds almost like a breath of hope, an ideal reprise of the melancholy left in the closing of “Requiem” by Doctor Huxley's gloomier and introspective prescription (For me the only one is to hurt oneself/what matters/sooner or later you'll fly again). Then, the twist: the second piece, “Loniterp” (an anagram of the New York band Interpol, legend has it), takes on a completely new tone, precisely within the ranks of that indie rock increasingly in vogue in the underground environment (and not even that much), which however goes on to dirty itself to become something still different, a sort of game that starts with a rhythmic cadence destined to end in an a cappella variation that concludes with something that recalls everything and nothing, a sort of closing à la Blur (like the intro of “Charmless Man”). And then? "By mistake" Verdena enters an absurdly psychedelic path, which preludes to a return of stoner (because, apparently, critics agree on the stoner vein of the group) with “Mi Coltivo". From here on, it’s pointless to continue with the track-by-track: the single “Razzi, Arpia, Inferno e Fiamme” has been known to us for a month, it was rumored to be a fake and, in the end, could actually be the completely out-of-context track, but that’s not the point: the point is that, from this point onward, the double album problem becomes increasingly evident.

Let me explain: since it’s not a concept, that is, a themed album, the sensation begins to be that of a mixture pushed a bit too far, almost as if it’s a collection of tracks thrown randomly, with some episodic nods to the past (“Lui Gareggia, Attonito, La Volta”) alternating with a series of certainly valid and appreciable experiments - the two “Sorriso in Spiaggia” are literally ecstasy, at least for myself. But everything remains a bit, how to say, suspended. So one comes to think that a double album, aside from being a deliberately obsolete choice, is -frankly- a bit too indigestible, despite the sea of positive opinions, I can't quite bring myself to say that it’s a truly beautiful record in an absolute sense. Because a truly beautiful record is one that immerses you in a climax of full satisfaction from beginning to end, and this is not the case. Of the twenty-seven proposed tracks, maybe, you could do away with eleven, thinking of “Wow” as a sort of game in search of the true fifth Verdena album within “Wow” itself.

In other words, the album is there, and it truly is beautiful, but it’s hidden. You just have to enjoy finding it.