Wolfango
Stagnola

In 1997, Wolfango was proclaimed by Giovanni Lindo Ferretti himself as the heirs of the late CCCP. Unconventional lyrics and music and anarchic live performances in which they often didn't even remember what to sing or, better yet, what to do.

The year was 1999, and Wolfango, after a previous and more violent work, came out with "Stagnola"; an album perhaps less violent but just as irreverent, off-key, psychedelic from every perspective and raw as a piece of meat just sliced on the butcher's counter, an album primarily put together by Marco Menardi, voice and distorted electric bass, and Sofia Maglione, voice and keyboard. On this occasion, Cristiano Marcelli on drums and behind the scenes the ever-present Giorgio Canali.

"Stagnola" is somewhat like the "Germi" of the Afterhours of the late '90s, a subtle album, one of the last representatives of that underground music that only the alternatives could fully grasp and understand more than anyone else (or so they thought, and was thought), an out-of-print album, almost a rarity for those passionate about Italian alternative rock, an album I myself purchased for the modest sum of 3 € at a flea market but I swear I would have paid even more given its musical value. We find tracks like "I Ricchi Pagano 70.000" and "Agrodolce" that evoke, particularly vocally, not only the aforementioned Giovanni Lindo Ferretti and his CCCP but also the Marlene Kuntz of "Catartica" unearthed and brought back into play five years later; the punk claimed here clashes with the melodic lines of the more distorted new grunge and the most poetic noise.

Browsing through the tracklist, it's pleasantly surprising to stumble upon exceptions like "Ti Ringrazio," a true anthem to the Lord (?), a track in the style of a catechist and his faithful classical guitar, in this case replaced by a more subdued electric bass; a little great gem put into music. Fake electro pop in pure '80s style is what we discover in the static and singsong "Silvester" while "Volavia" is simply a piece a few years ahead of the works of bands like Death From Above 1979, and I've said it all with that. The rest of the entire work moves on a few but valid chords, a hypnotic bass that uniquely replaces the absence of an electric guitar, and incorrect voices, sometimes irritating but nevertheless perfectly matched. "Stagnola," the last track taking the name of the entire work, brings everything back to normal for a moment and cradles us with its unexpected yet alarming sweetness...

Fake alternatives? Failed musicians? Junkyard band? I don't know, and perhaps I don't even care; what matters is knowing that phrases like "tomatoes are alive and know how to be happy" or better yet "Lilliputians welcome down here, you are cute but I am Grisù" have been shouted by someone, maybe not because there was such an extreme need but because deep down these phrases have their own deceptive reason. Could you have made an album like this? Maybe, certainly yes, but you know, it's a bit like modern art or Piero Manzoni's Merda In Scatola... someone appreciated it, someone bought it, someone was disgusted by it, but only one conceived it.

An album that I recommend and invite you to rediscover.