Purveyors of cosmic space rock in the fine heralded Hawkwind-Eloy tradition of sonic discovery and adventure, this veteran Italian quartet from Milano serves notice that it wants to travel in style as well. Piloted by commander Stefano Basurto, flight engineer Paolo Basurto on bass, mission specialist Melissa Crema on the keyboards and propellant drum payload expert Pietro D’Ambrosio, the threatening throttle lifts off on schedule, on a fine clear day, without any hint of ice formations.
A seductive album cover certainly sets the mood, as “Voodoo Experience” fumes from the moment ignition is pressed and lift off is about to begin. The quartet works as a well-oiled and fueled team, all involved in heightened concentration as the thunder meets the lightning, the turbulent sky above looming. The hypnotic “Fractal Haze” is definitely a cruise control vector, a linear urgency highlighted by testy and taciturn synthesizer slashes that create a spooky terror, showing no signs of relenting, drenched with a myriad of guitar sparklers and a merciless pounding from the rhythm section. You can feel the G-forces crushing the facial muscles, as the velocity becomes vertiginous.
A quadrant shift on “The Death of the Crows”, a moment of reflective comment with drowsy and despondent vocals , shepherded by a patchwork of electronic keys and ribald guitar intoxications that keep the atmosphere transcendent. Plunge back into maximum acceleration with the epic sized “1976”, marking a significant year of space exploration, what with the inaugural flight of the reusable Space shuttle and the first Viking missions to Mars, searching for the ever-elusive life elsewhere notion. Voice effects and vaporous exaltations from the Basurto boys initiate the dialogue, compounded by echoing synths and mellotron effects from Melissa’s various ivories. The reverberating gliding effects are definitely a bliss out section that is hugely appealing, a floating expanse of a universe waiting for discovery, another giant leap for mankind, yet fraught with human frailty and catastrophic failure.
Why not attempt an even bigger undertaking, by musically erecting a four-part suite with an overall French title “La Mort de la Terre” (the Death of Earth) , just over 20 minutes of essential progressive space rock that one must applaud for its audacity and attention to detail. ‘Vers les Terres Rouges’ is the obligatory introduction, a solemn organ in the backspace, urging on a trembling guitar rampage threatened by endless layers of cosmic dust, a loopy bass resolution with a distant percussive attack (‘Les Ferromagnéteaux’). Stefano shoots off some surprisingly acidic licks on his fretboard while Melissa makes her keys scream in agony. The spiraling temperament is rather ominous on the aquatic ‘L’Eau Fugitive’, an explicit electro-symphonic demonstration with a majestic melody that is a highlight moment of utter beauty on an otherwise heavy album, very reminiscent of the Simon House contributions in the mid-period Hawkwind discography (Hall, Warrior). Definitely radio friendly track. ‘Dans La Nuit Eternelle’ settles the landing with precision, a golden intergalactic parachute that salvages the mission on a successful note, a smooth climactic finale where the electronics rule, a mournful piano note signaling the finality of travelling the universe, fatigued by the numbness of gravity, yet finding comfort in a mission accomplished.
A wonderful addition to the genre and a thoroughly enjoyable flight that I intend to revisit again.
4.5 Orbiting payloads