The latest release from Sicilian percussionist Alfio Antico finds him staring out form the rural cover like a nineteenth century mesmerist, his gaze unyielding as he prepares to draw us in to his unique soundworld of sung-spoken folk tales set against the musical wealth of his players and collaborators as they dip into European folk and trail through acoustic-industrial unrest to a galaxian drift.
There is a sad, slow starkness to the rhythm of the opening title track “Trema La Terra”, with the trembling of the title echoed in the tremor of Hammond organ which accompanies his deep, insinuating voice. It is a voice of experience that has a mesmerising feel, like an Italian pied piper, prepared to entice his band of players and collaborators through the back roads of mainland Europe, playing for the populace and charming his way into their hearts before leaving to continue his neverending search for truth. Bells and chimes accompany these travels, highlighting the dust motes and tavernas seen in the shimmering moonlight.
Alfio’s voice moves through ranges, sometimes thoughtful, sometimes forceful and the band move with him, the Grinderman-like groove of “Pancali Cucina” giving way to the creeping trot of “Nun N’aiu Sonnu”, a chorus of voices joining in the seductive refrain. It feels as though he is magicking these songs from disparate elements plucked from whichever adventure has last befallen them. There is a touch of the American primitive to the acoustic “Pani E Cipudda”, its simple, circular rhythm a dry counterpoint to his warm delivery, while the use of acoustic instrumentation on “Rijanedda” has a more industrial feel which, with his effected vocals and modular synth embellishments, pushes the sound into steampunk territory. The Heath Robinson imagery is an interesting variation on what has come before; but in other places, I had a similar feeling to when I first heard First Born Is Dead by Nick Cave And The Bad Seeds.There is something about the gnarled delivery and the blasted storyteller vibe that comes through on “Menza Sira”, as here the voice is older, more elemental, a history of European folklore dragged in its wake. There is a seductive insistence in the simple rhythms and the meandering half-spoken tales and although I know no Italian, it is possible to be swept up in the drama of the stories as his band of minstrels gathers around you, awakening the locals and exciting the wildlife.
There is something welcoming about the structure of the pieces here, an expansive European welcome that puts its arm around you and leads you to the nearest wine-laden table, a sense that all around you is familiar yet new, until we arrive at the final track “Me Figghiu”. Here, the shackles of the road are released and, gazing upwards, we drift in to the cosmos on unnerving waves of synthesised sound, ebbing and flowing, growing more distant as the words form and fly, Alfio’s love for their shapes and his savouring of the words themselves lulling us to a final level of understanding.Trema La Terra is a journey of measure and passion with the band entirely simpatico with his ageless minstrel tales. A pan-European treat for the senses.
-Mr Olivetti-
