Starvox (USA)
"Danze
Pagane "
Mick Mercer
review
There’s
something of a mystery attached to the story of this band. Originally one
of Italy’s first Post-Punk bands, their press release points out that
although formed in 1985 and issuing their first demo then split up the following
years “due to the crisis which involved all the Gothic scene in Italy.”
What the Hell was that? Can anyone tell me? It sounds dramatic.
Three of the original members
are still in this new line-up, having got back together again in 2002 for
a reunion, which soon progressed to releasing a demo and then this album,
dated as last year. They have resumed playing live, including with Wire
and Diva Destruction, and proudly proclaim themselves a mixture of Californian
Deathrock and Italia Wave, so let’s explore.
Italian Goth is very distinctive in its own way, which many people have
yet to fully explore. It has the low-key intensity present in many of the
original Goth bands, where the mood is used to reflect what is in the lyrics,
so the vocalist must exude great control and authority. If he, as here,
has quite a gently observational manner, the music falls in behind him and
the band only step out into stormier passages, usually for a chorus, where
again the music isn’t what creates impact but the manner in which they
sing. Luckily for all, these vocals are softly shaped but compelling. I’m
sure some of you have heard the wonderful Artica, and Bohémien have
soft focus similarities with them.
The title track has high female vocals too, hung like tattered curtains,
and fidgety Goth guitar pecking at the hems. ‘Terra Sanctae’ shows
in an instant they also have a classy guitarist who stirs up almost hints
of the Middle East without them resorting to the clichés so many
use. The vocals remain archly demonstrative, and lead firmly into a mildly
shouty chorus, then they all step back as the guitar whisks morosely. It’s
a beautifully balanced sound, with sinuous echoes cleverly included here
and there, rising in volume towards a fine end with clappy percussion and
hollow bass.
‘Libido’ is a wonkier item, with thin but fantastically fretful
guitar somewhat awry from any solid mood, and this is on the punkier side
of things, with a colourful vocal display and savage end. ‘Dirsi Addio’
is restrained and quietly austere, ‘Nella Nebbia’ is an old song
resurrected from a 90’s compilation appearance and jangles sweetly
with insidious vocal harmony.
