Risk is (not) a four letter word
5
By tsbaxter
To me, it has never seemed productive to judge an album, or any other creative work, by what it ISN’T, rather than what it IS.
Some reviewers have noted, rightly, that this album is not Son of Blood Lust or The Night Creeper’s Revenge, but I’m puzzled as to why they deem it a failure based solely on this observation. Clearly, Uncle Acid & the Deadbeats are not trying to recreate the compositional style of their previous albums, otherwise they would have done so; five albums in, & we know that they know how. Instead of criticizing the album for what it “failed” to do (despite it not even attempting what it “failed,”) listeners themselves could try parsing out what the album IS attempting & whether or not it succeeds, rather than whether it meets & greets expectation with servility at the door, hat in hand.
In my view, the album is attempting to recreate the structure & atmosphere of a giallo film soundtrack, & in this, the group has been tremendously successful. Without any provided context, if you were to have told me that this “film” came out in 1975 & that this album was its soundtrack, I would have believed you: the album art, the dialogue “excerpts,” & the cinematic style of the music scream with the queasy progressive sleaze of seventies giallo pictures, with special tribute paid to the work of Italian band Goblin & their musical contributions to Dario Argento’s films such as Profondo rosso.
& this represents a continuation, rather than an abandonment, of already established characteristics in Uncle Acid & the Deadbeats’ music & style. Throughout their existence, the group has made no secret of their appreciation of exploitation films, & giallo films fit comfortably in that infamous pool. “La vipera,” with its spaghetti/surf guitar effects, sounds like a sixties style flex that could have featured on Vol. 1. “La bara restera chiusa” has a lurid lurch that recalls the doom moods on Blood Lust, specifically a track like “Death’s Door.” The track “Solo la morte ti amanetta” plays like a Beatles ballad of hopelessness with its roots in Mind Control. “Nell’ora blu” is reminiscent of the drizzly dirge “Slow Death,” & the Nemesis of Neglect themes ubiquitous in The Night Creeper are recapitulated in “Guistizia di strada-Lavora fino alla morte.” & the viscous & vicious groove ooze of “Il gatto morto” harkens back to the crawling menace of “No Return” from Wasteland. The musical tissues that connect this latest effort with previous ones underline that this record doesn’t come completely out of the “blu.”
But its expansions & emulations are driven to new musical heights by experimentation & manipulation. At the fore, the soundscapes of “Il sole sorge sempre” foreshadow a new emphasis on atmosphere, rather than lyrics, in the role of generating narrative momentum. These textures speak, & are no mere ornamentation. The first half of “Tortura al telefono” is a sinister exercise in evoking hallucinatory audio horror. & the jazzy promenade of “Pomeriggio di novembre nel parco-Occhi che osservano,” which transitions through foreboding fuzz into the spooky uptempo blues associated with the group underlines the success of their experiments; by significantly reducing the presence of lyrics as a songwriting tool, the music itself must & does evoke atmosphere & narrative.
That all said, & despite the strength of individual tracks, this album is somehow even stronger than the sum of its parts. Its strongest quality, in my mind (literally), is how the album engages & collaborates with the listener in the creation of the figment giallo film. This idea is best illustrated in “L’omicidio,” a shockingly violent climax track near the album’s end. Throughout the listening experience, I had been imagining how this movie would look—shots, colors, performers, locations, costumes, props, lighting, etc.—a participation encouraged, I think, by the band in order to create an active rather than passive listening experience. The squelchy sound effects & chaotic music cues in “L’omicidio” created in my mind terrifying images in that giallo style; an imaginary murder in which I was an accomplice to the blood & breath & organs & sounds of the group. Thrilling, chilling, engaging art. & different for every listener, since every listener brings their own sacrificial mind film to Uncle Acid’s altar.
I never write reviews, as you can probably tell by the excessive length of this one; brevity is no skill of mine. & Uncle Acid & the Deadbeats certainly don’t need me to defend their artistic choices; they didn’t get where they are today by taking criticism personally. & every listener is entitled to their own opinion & preference. For my pet, it’s too early to say whether or not I’ll throw this album on as much or more or less often than Blood Lust or The Night Creeper; it’s been available less than one week.
But when an established musical act comes out with something unexpected & risky & different, that stimulates me; it may have been easier & more lucrative for them to play it safe & create something according to what has already shown itself to be profitable.
So it irks me to see them pilloried with a low average rating on Apple Music for no other reason that I can discern other than “it doesn’t sound just like their other work.” Artistic risk taking & experimentation, if unencouraged, languish in a culture that petulantly mewls for more of what it’s already heard & already likes. As a cultural courtesy, let’s try better to meet halfway the artists whose creativity we respect instead of telling them to spoon-feed us some reheated leftovers or we’ll demand a refund; a listener’s expectations & demands are not the (or even a) quality ruler.
Open yourself to a risky listen, & judge for yourself whether the risk was worth it. To me, it is, since risk itself is bloody rare.
Headphones a must.
Thanks for an invitation rather than a delivery Uncle Acid, & pass my thanks to the Deadbeats as well.
