Cult Favorite Italian Art-Rock Band Rises From the Grave
Today’s Halloween album is the video game kind. The original Goblin, one of Italy’s best-known art-rock bands from the 70s, are best remembered for their horror film soundtracks, most notably Dawn of the Dead. Goblin Rebirth pick up where that band left off, with a new album streaming at Bandcamp.
After a brief early-zeros reunion by the original band (whose lineup was always in a state of flux, more or less) Goblin Rebirth got their start playing rarer archival repertoire, and soon found themselves writing new material. Stormy clouds of synth! Soaring, snapping, trebly bass! Big, dramatic drums! Heavy, lingering, one-foot-up-on-the-monitor guitar chords! If anything, the new songs – all of them instrumentals, essentialy – are even more epic and propulsive then the group’s famous 70s and 80s output, maybe since the lone original members are bassist Fabio Pignatelli and drummer Agostino Marangolo. The new group also includes dual keyboardists Aidan Zammit and Danilo Cherni along with guitarist Giacomo Anselmi, who also plays bouzouki. If you like your soundtracks packed with nonstop action, put in your earbuds and crank this puppy up: it’s the audio equivalent of a double espresso.
The opening track is Requiem For X – it doesn’t take long before its wistful whistling gives way to a couple of King Kong drumbeats, Dracula’s castle piano rivulets, a a churchbell or two and then Pignatelli enters with his treble turned up, the guitars ringing and rising overhead as the track reaches escape velocity. With its loopy, trebly synth lines and echoey guitars, Back in 74 brings to mind Kraftwerk with a real rhythm section: again, Pignatelli’s incisive lines put him front and center in the role of terse second lead guitarist.
Book of Skulls is slower and closer to something you might hear in a classic game like Castlevania – tongue-in-cheek oscillations and swirls abound, then make way for Anselmi’s ornate David Gilmourisms. Creepy/twinkly electric piano, droll portamento flourishes, choral samples and more of that achingly climbing lead guitar rise over the pounding sway of the rhythm section throughout the somewhat less-than-mysterious Mysterium. Evil in the Machine, unlike what its title might imply, is the least techy, most straight-ahead stadium rock-style track here – and also one of the most genuinely menacing, as it builds to a tense peak before taking an unexpected turn toward funk.
The band take their time bulding out of suspenseful atmospherics in Forest: again, it’s the drums and guitar, Anselmi fighting off any direct path to an easy resolution, that move front and center as the theme rises to a peak and then subsides. With its wary mashup of Andalucian and Balkan sounds, the album’s best and most genuinely menacing track, Dark Bolero features emphatic cello from Francesco Marini. The final cut, Rebirth, with its endlessly cyclical phrases, is the closest thing to what you might call prog here. As a whole, this isn’t particularly scary music, but there’s never a dull moment.