( This piece came out today on Sarda in a shorter version. laid the full review here. The record may to stream here )
strange breed of singer-songwriter to Iosonouncane, nom de plume of James buggerraio Incani debut on disc today (the macarena on Rome) for the Italian label props. Singer / Songwriter in the literal sense and in the broadest sense: that first one who writes his lyrics with a strong authorial vocation and that ultimately is part of an Italian tradition that leads down to the Gaber, From within, De André, but at the same time is able to extend the boundaries of literal with a visionary approach, immersing the melodies of his songs in a musical maelstrom of sounds dirty, loops, beats, percussion and beatbox samples awkward products, toy cars and various keypads. It is in the midst of this tension between the melody and attitude from sapper music that James has found his stylistic staff, in support of a writing that gutter words one after the other using his personal obsessions as the key to the company. The voice then, a voice exacerbated, mocking, bitterly sarcastic which tells stories from his grotesque fishing experience (unemployment, job insecurity, work for two years in a call center), the imaginary television and news reports revised in controversial and satirical. At first, it must be said, listening to the album can be confusing, but once you find the key to all the surprises levels. Since the opening of "Summer on a crowded beach," the story of a sinking of a boat of illegal immigrants and the reactions of cynicism and indifference of the people on the beach ("A wild crowd that clamored for the version in the flesh deaths seen on TV "), which closes with an overlap of hellish voices singing the" po-po-po "World Cup in Berlin, on which James then angrily shouts:" Mother does not know how to swim, help. Drink black, you're a nigger, drink, drink. " Alienating. Play again with the voice in a dialogue with Gramsci, who confesses to mandate curriculum for all and that even the Upim took him, "Look forget it", and in this phrase captures the spirit literally worn down by an army of new proletarians with no hope in the future. And then, the blob apocalyptic staged inside an apartment of 35 square feet of a man sitting on a sofa in front of the TV (the beautiful title track), the touching recollections of personal events in the corpus delicti, or the theater The goal of famous football de hand, one of the pieces "easier" disc, which suggests that deep beyond apparel music with which they are dressed (which is still a necessary part of his proposal) will also work with many pieces a guitar and little else. As it happens only when there is a real talent in writing tout court. Disc beautiful, difficult and importantly, the business card of one of the most original and intense on the Italian scene. ( Andrea Tramonte, Unione Sarda )
strange breed of singer-songwriter to Iosonouncane, nom de plume of James buggerraio Incani debut on disc today (the macarena on Rome) for the Italian label props. Singer / Songwriter in the literal sense and in the broadest sense: that first one who writes his lyrics with a strong authorial vocation and that ultimately is part of an Italian tradition that leads down to the Gaber, From within, De André, but at the same time is able to extend the boundaries of literal with a visionary approach, immersing the melodies of his songs in a musical maelstrom of sounds dirty, loops, beats, percussion and beatbox samples awkward products, toy cars and various keypads. It is in the midst of this tension between the melody and attitude from sapper music that James has found his stylistic staff, in support of a writing that gutter words one after the other using his personal obsessions as the key to the company. The voice then, a voice exacerbated, mocking, bitterly sarcastic which tells stories from his grotesque fishing experience (unemployment, job insecurity, work for two years in a call center), the imaginary television and news reports revised in controversial and satirical. At first, it must be said, listening to the album can be confusing, but once you find the key to all the surprises levels. Since the opening of "Summer on a crowded beach," the story of a sinking of a boat of illegal immigrants and the reactions of cynicism and indifference of the people on the beach ("A wild crowd that clamored for the version in the flesh deaths seen on TV "), which closes with an overlap of hellish voices singing the" po-po-po "World Cup in Berlin, on which James then angrily shouts:" Mother does not know how to swim, help. Drink black, you're a nigger, drink, drink. " Alienating. Play again with the voice in a dialogue with Gramsci, who confesses to mandate curriculum for all and that even the Upim took him, "Look forget it", and in this phrase captures the spirit literally worn down by an army of new proletarians with no hope in the future. And then, the blob apocalyptic staged inside an apartment of 35 square feet of a man sitting on a sofa in front of the TV (the beautiful title track), the touching recollections of personal events in the corpus delicti, or the theater The goal of famous football de hand, one of the pieces "easier" disc, which suggests that deep beyond apparel music with which they are dressed (which is still a necessary part of his proposal) will also work with many pieces a guitar and little else. As it happens only when there is a real talent in writing tout court. Disc beautiful, difficult and importantly, the business card of one of the most original and intense on the Italian scene. ( Andrea Tramonte, Unione Sarda )
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