An Italian Pair

ANDREA FERRARIS / MATTEO UGGERI – Autumn Is Coming, We’re All In Slow Motion

Mixing (mainly) local field recordings and lots of different instruments – with the help of Japanese singer and pianist Mujika Easel and cellist Andrea Serrapiglio – Ferraris and Uggeri gave birth to a record that is not afraid to expose a number of kindhearted sides, expressed through music that privileges ashen shades, foggy landscapes and soothing melody. We can’t say of having not met comparable materials before – indeed we have heard many – but in this case the cohesion between the parts makes sure that the recipe is quite tasty, with a few flashes of genuine aural gratification. Recognizable echoes of neighboring existences often represent a quick way out for countless sound constructors to avoid a deeper type of research; here, the truthfulness at the basis of the project is felt straight away, even the most obvious traces giving a hint of those everyday presences which people tend to disregard yet constitute the basic soundtrack of a normal being. It remains to be seen if one really appreciates that kind of life, however the acoustic product resulting from this compendium of urban and rural poetry is legitimate. (Hibernate)


The instrumentation comprises trumpet, drums and field recordings (Uggeri), guitar (Mauri) and piano (Giannico). There’s some “like/don’t like” game to be played in this case, without excessively accenting the negatives. However I will start exactly from there: the syrupiness of certain passages – especially the ones where Giannico lets New Age-ish chordal progressions repeat upon themselves and Uggeri enters the frame with long trumpet notes – made me think to a low-budget version of a Mark Isham soundtrack: neatly executed, rather light in terms of emotional significance. On the other hand the fieldwork is typically meticulous, and Luca Mauri’s excellent post-Baker looping confirms the validity of my positive evaluation of his CD Between Love And Hate on Creative Sources a while ago. Indeed, sometimes those ominous stratified guitars were perceived as the glue that avoids the whole to fall into pieces, although it must be honestly said that the more “regular” figurations drawn on the fretboard are much less motivating. It’s a shame that the record is working only in patches, for a couple of imposing segments are alone worthy of repeated listens. But as an algebraic sum of dissimilar ideas and varying levels of depth this is a sufficient release, not a signpost. (Boring Machines)

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