MITOPOIESI

The Sicilian-based Coral Caves continue the unending Italian prog legacy of providing fresh music to the eager masses and comes as another pleasant surprise, right on the stiletto heels (Italy is shaped like a boot after all!) of the recent Il Bacio della Medusa masterpiece. Our astute finnforest is correct in stating that this disc will not need 25 spins to sink in, its very straightforward Italian prog. Where there is a bit of a difference in terms of delivery and substance, is the feature of a dual electric guitar attack (the two Gallotta brothers, go figure!) that begins with a furious onslaught right from the get-go, the title track firing off a few searing salvos of swirling synth runs, bending leads, hard riffs, aggressively passionate vocals and some stunning bass /drum interplay. "Sorridi" is one of the highlights, a revving motorcycle launches this moody, bass-propelled piece, brash dual axes flirting with dissonance, a helter-skelter main melody that evolves into a gentle Floydian expanse , whimsical and raspy vocals, whistling synth background and a demonstrative guitar solo that is drenched in woos and wahs, the bass acting up with stubborn contempt, then suddenly exploding into some kind of interstellar overdrive with insane electronics, as if the bike had a turbocharger on it. Smile, bambina, smile.. "Cliff of Moher" is more mid-tempo, even I daresay accessible, the vocals stretching into more expressive surroundings with a sudden Santana influenced lead that is deviously effective, coupled with a whooping synth solo that drives the theme home. The recipe is repeated a second time with a gentler solo, flirting with Camel until the end. "Senza di Me" is another peak performance, with clear focus on the fluid and melancholic lead guitar (yeah, the spirit of Gilmour/Latimer is obvious) , with a typically moody vocal performance loaded with affected pain , highlighted by crackling acoustic guitar, thick electronic keys of various ilk , simple bass and an effortless beat. The final 2 minutes is a blues-laden extravaganza that shreds, howls, cries and suffers in growing expression. The seven minute + "Ricordi" is in the same league, a superbly sorrowful guitar driven piece that has flow and feel, with slide effects and a main melody that really hits home. The ensuing lead solo is achingly majestic, almost evoking classic bluesy Robin Trower with later dabs of Gilmour, a dual (a la Wishbone Ash) outro that will make you stand up and applaud, especially when the slow slide kicks in, pffffff!!!!!. Certainly my fave cut here, unrelenting magic! The short "Torno a Casa" is a jollier romp, a slight jazz-pop feel that is a welcome interlude from all the heavier stuff here. In true prog fashion, the band resorts to some history as inspiration for the next epic, recalling the somewhat brutal conquest of Mexico by the red- bearded Cortés, bluesy fretwork introducing the invasion of one empire by another, bassist/vocalist Pietro Saviano singing his heartfelt rage, grandiose keyboards reliving the splendor of a soon to be destroyed civilization (even with its contradicting inhuman traditions), the guitars launch into a lush series of fiery solos that accent the deepest emotions , slowly building towards the inevitable finale "Tenochtitlan" (the Aztec name for the Mexican capital) . "Eterno Ritorno" is return to the rollicking, somewhat harsher delivery (closer to Mary Newsletter or Foglie di Vetro than PFM, Banco or CAP), though the flute makes a brief appearance that only highlights the passion behind their artistry but then the boys gently swerve the piece into more peaceful surroundings. Why, you ask? Because the disc closes off with a 13 minute "coup de maitre", the delicious "Il Dolce Canto della Terra" (the sweet earth song), a simply outstanding vocal, marshaled by a Hammond organ tapestry, here more remindful of La Maschera di Cera or even Le Orme. With birds chirping in the trees, the acoustic guitar escorts the flute in the most pastoral horizons before diving into bombastic symphonics, synthesizers painting music in the air, emulator strings adding to the grandeur, patiently preparing the way for the guitars to enter the arena. They don't exactly smash the door down, weaving slowly but forcefully to the forefront, all about restraint and anticipation. A return to the vocal theme and then, pow! The illuminated guitars finally arrive to rip the solo to shreds, caressing the neck, scratching the strings and bending them into submission. An impressive debut that deserves a future career, another new ISP band to follow closely . 4 palermos