| The Sand The Memory of Dead Romances |
| Italian musician Umberto Marconi (working as The Sand) sent a very pleasant note along with his very pleasant demo disc, The Memory of Dead Romances. Very few musicians specifically request criticism, and even fewer recognize that a bland and noncommittal review suggests that your music didn't effect the listener at all. That kind of honesty and perception deserves an honest and perceptive review... and I hope I can live up to the task. Marconi's music is generally "Gothic" ... but in a way that shows just how much "Gothic" has changed since its beginnings. Some of his influences are drawn from Goth's dark and early beginnings. "Prayers" and "Krime 3" hearken back to vintage Joy Division and Sisters of Mercy, with a heavy drumbeat and jangling guitar underpinning a moody, distorted baritone vocal. While they don't break any new ground, they do their old school roots proud... music for dancing or moping, depending on your mood. (His by-the-numbers cover of the Joy Division's classic "Transmission" could have been left off -- it's well-done, but doesn't really offer anything new). In the beginning, nobody who owned a Siouxie and the Banshees album would be caught dead listening to Duran Duran or Flock of Seagulls. Today "synthpop" has become a staple at many "Goth" clubs, and "80s nostalgia" may include Billy Idol or Dexy's Midnight Runners alongside the Cruxshadows. With "Bella Come Non Mai" and "Endless Time" Marconi captures that simultaneously wistful-and-bouncy mood which characterized so much of the best 80s pop. It may not be great art, but it's certainly great fun... who could ask for more? At first glance there's little in common between "Gothic" and "Industrial" music: one might as well imagine a double bill of "Bram Stoker's Dracula" and "Tetsuo the Iron Man." And yet the two have become associated forever by promoters and clubkiddies alike. Marconi pays homage to industrial's hard-edged anger with "A.M.I.P" and "Samurai (Version II)," giving us a not-so-skinny puppy that manages to be hard without being too challenging. I was more interested, honestly, by the opening "A Joke," a brief dissonant piano interlude which reminded me of Pierre Boulez. Perhaps Marconi should expand his horizons by exploring some modern classical and avant-garde performers. Schoenberg's experiments with serialism or Edgar Varese's sonic compositions could provide great inspiration for more challenging and interesting work on his part. Overall Marconi seems to be a musician in search of his voice. This isn't a bad thing by any means: every artist goes through a period where he does what Robert Louis Stevenson called "playing the sedulous ape." He's certainly got the enthusiasm, and he appears to know his sources well. It's not a bad album -- it's always listenable and frequently danceable -- but neither is it a particularly original one. Right now it's good juvenilia; one of those early works which may well wind up a collector's edition when Marconi hits his stride and becomes a musical leader, not just a talented follower. 1) A Joke Band Website: http://www.thesand.net/csalva/index.html |