THE CALENDAR

The multi-directional and tremendously adventurous electronic post-rockin chamber ensemble Sparkle in Grey is back after the powerful, eclectic and electric krautrockin 'Thursday Evening'. 'The Calendar' is so made of magnificent soundscaping poetries that words can hardly explain my feelings after a first immersion in the music. This is continuously intimate and irresistibly enchanting, you just need to let yourself to be absorbed by those small, unpretentious, slightly humorous and sincere microsonic musical paintings. As in the previous releases the deeply evocative and melancholic dreamy-like atmosphere is still here but the electronic arrangements are reduced to the minimum to let the place to a vast collection of acoustic instrumentation where the guitar and the violin play a major role, punctuated by silences, sometimes sustained by detached and sorrowing trumpet lines. Field recordings and processed textures are also brought to the fore and communicate all together in a very dynamic and spontaneous folkish register. Dissonant compositional schemas, enigmatic instrumental phrases meet absolutely heavenly melodic themes in a minimalist-microtonal mode. Each track develops its own characteristics, sometimes plaintive, ethereal, naïve but clearly orientated to a sense of progressiveness with a nicely suggestive cinematic touch whose Matteo and his team have definitely the secret. This album admits no comparison. According to me this is an undisputed little masterpiece that proves once again that the collective stands as unique and freely inspiring in the universe of independent-alternative music. Among the top favorites of the year.

Sparkle in the Grey is a new act for me. What caught my attention, aside from the whimsical artwork, was the "concept" of The Calendar, with each piece representing a given month (and a mysterious thirteenth tacked on at the end). Many times because of the instrumentation, I am reminded of the sadder passages in Ritual's The Hemulic Voluntary Band, but what that album had in spurts of dynamism, this album forgoes entirely. Rather than engaging the listener, it seems content to serve as cinematic music, often bleak with tiny bits of shine. Indeed, "Sparkle in the Grey" would have been an apt name for many of these pieces. Avoid this album if the desire is progressive electronic music in the traditional sense, but it will invite many listens if you have a fondness for simple, rural folk music.

"Ianuarius" Perhaps depicting a farm in the middle of winter, a slow-moving sense of idleness pervades the piece, with icy glockenspiel and only the steady plodding of guitar to keep the listener warm.

"Februarius" Ambient noises of a lonely villager moving about patter alongside plucked guitar and bittersweet strings.

"Martius" As though welcoming the forthcoming thaw, gentle ukulele introduces a more full-bodied acoustic guitar piece. The violin creates the feeling of a warm spring night, and, just like the insects that pester during one of those, strident electronic noises bite.

"Aprilis" Much brighter and warmer, a sleepy acoustic guitar accompanies that rich violin and now a melodica. Those piercing tones return, marring an otherwise beautiful performance.

"Maius" A static electroinic percussive tone rattles like Morse code, like someone tapping underneath the floorboards. The strings evoke a gorgeous springtime wedding.

"Iunius" The first summer month is honored with a plaintive but highly melodic piece, with multiple lead instruments bellowing out in rich counterpoint. As though to raise the mood, a giddy ukulele breaks up the plaintiveness.

"Quintilis" Although not abandoning the overall mood this album has created thus far, "Quintilis" includes a few strange melodic turns, dark piano, and grunting bass.

"Sextilis" The background bantering sounds like it came right out of a diner, while the music itself has a 1950s jazz approach, low and sleepy until the electronic percussion and ukulele change up the feel.

"September" As the air gets colder, so does the music, this time summoning a ghostly voice that hovers over dimly lit passages.

"October" Abounding strings give way to further soothing acoustic guitar. Inappropriate lead work that matches neither the flavor of the piece or the key jars the listener out of the reverie and back to reality. "November (Just Like Anything)" As the only piece to get a parenthetical note, I initially wondered if this one would stand out. The answer is clear soon enough: This is a song, a delightfully dated-sounding folk song with understated vocals.

"December" Going back to the colder, lonelier canvas, those delicate sounds over such a gray, empty sound evoke the feeling of staring outside on a cold December dusk when it looks like it might snow, but only dribbles of sleet drop out of the stony heavens.

"The Thirteenth Month" Echoing bass rumbles beneath a host of strings.