Die Schachtel

More than two years ago, Luigi Archetti produced a master stroke with the first volume of Null on this same label. A high degree of “artist’s pureness” – let’s even call it “intransigence”, which in this case is a major praise on my behalf – is also immediately detectable in the second and third chapters of that great opus. This set is the continuation of a timbral research that mostly has to do with the intangibles of resonance: not only of a note (or a noise for that matter) in a defined spot, but in relation to how different sensibilities generate different reactions in front of uncommon acoustic manifestations. Here comes the principal issue of this music: it works whatever environmental context you place it into, yet believing to casually stick an “ambient” tag on it is a stupid error, demonstrating that the record is not being assimilated as it should.

Traits of somewhat disheartened awareness of an abysmal “beyond” are perceivable throughout the over 130 minutes of the double CD. Guitars remain the first and foremost constituent of Archetti’s work, their stifled vibrations, post-minimalist repetitions and sudden outbreaks towards the realms of acridness allowing a continual genetic mutation of the aural (id)entity. This, improbably enough, represents a veritable continuum in which everything makes sense, small refractions of light piercing the many gloomy zones every once in a while. These sounds appear as propagations of a human conception, though, not the cold fruits of a tree of mechanical bitterness. We can envisage the concealed instigator bent upon the instruments in a laboratory, capturing on tape nuances that get translated into emotional response in few truly disciplined addressees on the other side. Darkish waves born from the insides of a soul, seemingly destined to the obliteration of intellectual meanings – which is, after all, the key to survival in this day and age.

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