Review of Macchie by Filippo Giuffrè, Eclectic Polpo Records 2017
1. Agorafobia delle 7 04:44
2. Un altro giorno 03:35
3. Sospesi nella rabbia 03:46
4. Riposarsi nei ricordi 08:01
5. Infinitamente piccolo 06:19
6. Festa di addio 07:18
7. La pace di essere in guerra 06:57
8. Era come indossare l’immortalità 02:24
9. Nogunri 04:55
Noise? Noise. I have always asked myself a question about noise: is everything the same? I mean: is every noise the same as an other one? And what then is noise at the end? Is it organized? Is it blind? Is he deaf? Is it just a question of volume?
These are not so simple matters, at the end we know very little about noise. Noise is recent, a man’n invention, connected to the industrial revolution, the world of engines, technology, desire, the desire to overcome nature and always opposed to music and silence, which we think we know what they are. But the noise no. We identify it with fury, chaos, the absence of structure, with the Land of Mordor, with the forges of Sauron, with the rebellion, with uncontrolled energy, with the absence of control. But is it really like that? And if noise is a musical genre … the noise of Glenn Branca is equal to that of Metal Machine Music? To that of Sonic Youth? And the Boredoms?
Too many questions. Let’s try focusing on the noise of Filippo Giuffrè. Is it different? Yes. It’s a quiet … noise. Is it music? Yes. A music made of guitars, bones, nerves and … stillness. It’s strange to talk about quiet when it comes to noise, but what comes out of the guitars of Filippo Giuffè is not anger, there is no aggressive tension, there is no uncontrolled fury, there is almost no rhythm. It’s concentric noise, it expands, it’s not solid, it’s gaseous. You can listen at low or high volume. Basically it does not change, at a high volume the room begins to resonate, but the waves remain the same, the intensity remains the same, perhaps even the desires. It’s an experimental noise, research, it’s not adolescent and everything is perceived, even at low volume, every nuance, every detail, the small background noises and understands that there’s no randomness, every thing is in its place and it reflect the titles of the songs that at the end speak of everyday life, of little things, of ordinary clippings, of memories.
This record speaks of spots, black, frayed, faded, rough spots. Stains put to that place for a precise order, for a real intention. It makes a strange calm to hear the sound of Filippo, perhaps the last thing I expected from his record and I must say that it is very good for me. It’s abrasive but also caressing, in its own way, it’s a bit sad even when it grinds its teeth. It’s a great record.