A Supposedly Fun Thing We'll Probably Do Again is out now!
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Embryology

Immagine
Il primo pezzo del disco, l’ultimo da noi composto. Nato come una ballad dolce e melanconica sull’aborto, questo dialogo tra un feto nascituro e la madre si è progressivamente trasformato in un brano solido e pestato, forse il più piacevole da suonare live. La “scelta di non scegliere” del bambino può essere interpretata in molti modi, non ultimo quello di un errato sviluppo embrionale (“I promise that I’ll study embriology”) del neonato che ne determina la scomparsa prematura: l’happy ending finale è però riservato alla mamma, la cui voce lontana tranquillizza il feto e lo invita a non fare brutti sogni.

I'm sure you will be wonderful 
small, round, warm and pregnant with me in you 
our little secret 
my sleepy feelings 
i promise that I'll study 
embriology 
but it's hard, it really is 
to think that I'll go out 

am I supposed to be the child of your dreams? 
should I know what it means to live and what means not to 
so tell me in simple words what is the difference between 
it's a crossroad and i feel sad 

I don't want to disappoint you 
mother I don't know what should i do 
I think I'm dying 
still before living 
paradox 
anxiety 
but it's hard, it really is 
to think that I'll go out 

here I am to soft your soul to deny all your painful thoughts

Occasion

Immagine
Una polaroid di una vacanza in Irlanda; le derive dantiste di Montale nella sua seconda, aulica, opera; una sala da tè dove il tempo sembra essersi fermato alla Belle Epoque: tutto converge in uno stream of consciousness sulla necessità umana di amare. Una canzone composta tutti insieme, in saletta, nata da un riff uscito quasi per caso, mentre l’estate finiva e con essa un importante capitolo della storia del nostro gruppo.

Occasion you never come, and you never after being passed one time: 
it’s hard to believe that we’ll never be young again. 
Occasions is a Montale’s book, a collection of poems written between the 1925 and the late thirties. 
Are you sure to love me enough? 
Like the queen loves her tarts: she bakes many many cakes, but she’s always very very doubtful about her final result. 
Poems are linked between them, as Hypertextual poetry, that’s a book I had decided to write but I never really begun to. 
Please love and feed me and my soul, may it be for a moment or forever, I will never forget you I will never forget it. 
And if you get on, we might get awesome. 
If we get on, we might get awesome.

A Love Story From Outer Space

Immagine
Una storia d’amore ambientata nel Perù anni 80. Due bambini, vicini di casa, trascorrono i pomeriggi insieme. La pubertà si avvicina, il giovane si innamora dell’amica: al gran rifiuto di lei seguiranno anni di rimpianto e di nostalgia per ciò che, in realtà, non è mai accaduto. Si incontrano vent’anni dopo, lei donna e madre, lui adolescente imprigionato in un corpo ormai vecchio: ed è la malinconia del “se” ad avere la meglio. Un brano che vuole essere un’escursione surf-pop sul più classico dei giri armonici, cantando il dolcissimo sapore del passato che non tornerà.


She was tender, she was cute. 
Not enough for young Juan: you know, unborn kids may think that love is uncool. 

He was socially accepted but he never had a thought about everything that belongs to sentimentalism. 
Sadly we know than soon or later that april comes to end, then adolescence doesnt’t forgive and we are sad. 

N: Juan my friend, how do you do? 
J: I’m fine, I live in Iquitos me too, do you remember when we were young? When we played chess,and you always won. 
N: You called me nina,and my father was still alive. 
Y: Do you remember when he used to sang? 
N: He was the first to make you understand that music and guitar would have become your life, but now please tell me: have you got a wife? No, seriously, are you still not engaged? 
I’m a mum, instead, I’ve got two children and guess what: the first one is called Juan, Juan like you. 

If I were honest I’d say that all nights, sunsets or sundays or other fake happiness 
I only wanted that you smiled when I told you that funny joke 
You were serious and watching me you told me I was just a dork.

Nineties' Call

Immagine
Questo brano nasce come regalo di compleanno per una persona che è nata l’ultimo giorno di estate e narra – con un sottotesto da “sindrome dell’età d’oro” – ciò che sono stati gli anni 90 per le persone che vi hanno vissuto ma, ancora inconsci di sé e del mondo circostante, ricordano solo sensazioni e piccoli flash di un mondo a loro non appartenente. Una celebrazione ed un commiato da chi cerca di fuggire dal presente e rifugiarsi nel passato. E’ un brano con un sacco di cambi di tempo e originariamente suonato in versione diamonica, chitarra acustica e voce. Il verso “Today summer ends, let’s try to pretend that I’m not nostalgic of my childood and of the youth that’s yet to come” può assurgere tranquillamente a manifesto morale del disco.

The most important thing that you’ll ever learn is how to read Doestoevskij’s names and remember 
them. The next essential thing (that you’ll have to buy) it will decay in a month or two, then you will not 
need it anymore. The clotted blood in girls’ears doesn’t turn me on anymore. I left a broken tandem in 
a dusty street in Amsterdam. 
The nineties’ call: the sunday’s visits at the shopping mall. The nineties’ call surprised me when the 
only lights were you and the moon, on a red pedalo. 
Today summer ends, let’s try to pretend that I’m not nostalgic of my childood and of the youth that’s 
yet to come: certain people are so alone, empathy all over me. 
The most important thing, that you’ll ever, ever learn is how to love and how to be loved. 
The nineties’ call: the sundays’ visits at the shopping mall. The nineties’ call, that night I dreamt of 
1997. The nineties’ call surprised me on a rainy afternoon: the nineties’ call surprised me when the 
only lights were you and the moon, on a red pedalo.

Sunday

Immagine
Tranquilla mattinata di un aprile di fine millennio in Colorado: esterno giorno, scuola media di Columbine. Eric e Dylan, due studenti appena diciottenni, entrano nella scuola armati fino ai denti: uccidono 13 persone, poi si sparano reciprocamente. La strage narrata dal punto di vista dei due killer, il loro amore inconfessabile, la follia. Brano che crea una forte contrapposizione tra la spensieratezza pop dell’arrangiamento e le crudeltà descritte. La genesi di questa canzone è fortemente cinematografica: il testo è infatti ispirato e fortemente influenzato da “Bowling for columbine” di Michael Moore e “Elephant” di Gus Van Sant.
La domenica del titolo rappresenta il giorno prima della strage, metaforicamente il momento antecedente ad ogni atto potenzialmente rischioso, quello in cui tutti ci chiediamo: “were we making the right thing? Were we making it right?”



Where did you go last night Eric, I could not say goodbye to you. You were laying naked and cold in 
a coffin, near mine. And early tomorrow there will be no one when they will be burying us together, 
hand in hand. 
No one’ll ever pay a visit at your grave nor be crying of your death. Everybody hates us, my love. Did 
you know that your father knew who you were? Did you remember that I killed you? Don’t worry I killed 
myself too afterwards. 
Are you still waiting newspapers’titles with our faces on, with our teeth that don’t exist no more. 
Sunday has been our latest sunday, the last one we could live in, the last one were we lived. 
Monday we killed almost twelve people, we really had a great fun: the best day of my life. 
You only you, Eric I have made all that just for you and because I think I’m mad. 
At the first killings my hands were so trembly and moist, were we making the right thing? Were we 
making it right? I must admit my friend, i don’t think I was already prepared to kill and to die: then you 
fired a bullet in Jane’s face (that nigger bitch that always smells bad) and then I suddenly felt better! 
Happiness is a warm gun, let’s kill our friends it’s time to lose and to pretend. 
Sunday has been our latest sunday, the last one we could live in, the last one were we lived. 
Monday we killed almost twelve people, we really had a great fun: the best day of my life. 
You only you, Eric I have made all that just for you and because I think I’m… 
Can you feel the good vibes from the guns don’t you orgasm when you shoot a girl? Hear the secret 
silence of the bombs, they are still exploding! 
Sunday has been our latest sunday, the last one we could live in, the last one were we lived. 
Monday we killed almost twelve people, we really had a great fun: the best day of my life. 
You only you, Eric I have made all that just for you and because I think I’m mad.

Life In Black And White

Immagine
La più anziana tra le canzoni del disco, ricordo vestigiale di quando ancora giocavamo a fare gli Strokes. Un bambino, per colpe a noi ignote, finisce in un carcere minorile. Le chiacchierate col secondino, le rare visite della mamma e la ciclicità monotona del tempo. Il buio della cella gli induce pallore e cecità ai colori, peculiarità infantile che, una volta curata da adulto, diventerà sintomo di malinconia: una vita sprecata. Anche in questo brano il leitmotiv della nostalgia è molto forte; ma qui si tratta di una nostalgia depressa, amara, che viene freddamente raccontata in terza persona. Quando il locale dispone di proiettore, mentre suoniamo fungiamo da schermo: in questa canzone ci proiettiamo addosso il finale de “I 400 colpi” di Truffaut, la celeberrima scena in cui il bambino corre e vede per la prima volta il mare. Il suo sguardo pieno di malinconia guarda in camera, e poi l’enorme scritta FIN.

I will not judge momently 
he told me in confidence 
your offence won't waste my lunch 
i feel like eating meat 
my uncle was polish for instance 
my mum from milky way 
I used to call her friend 
but oil and water do not blend 
the life in black and white will be the first thing to remember 
the life in black and white will be the last thing to forget 
it reminds me of when we were young, we're still young but we grow old everyday 
god bless you told me when I was young 
she smiled at me and went away 
it doesn't matter what you've done 
next month is june and this is may 
the same old story I was thinking loud 
I'll grow up lonely and mum will say 
whenever she'll come to me 
this jail is making you so pale 
the life in black and white will be the first thing to remember 
the life in black and white will be the last thing to forget 
it reminds me of when we were young we're still young but we grow old everyday



Bathroom Whistling

Immagine
Il walking bass e lo spensierato fischiettio celano un segreto d’infanzia ricorrente nei suoi sogni: l’amore omosessuale in una lontana estate scolastica, ricordo tanto dolce quanto doloroso. Un piccolo cortometraggio che narra il rimpianto di un amore che non tornerà. La struttura della canzone è fondamentalmente divisa in due: una prima parte, ritmicamente sostenuta, ambientata nel presente, ed un lungo flashback lennoniano che sconfina in un rovente luglio marittimo degli anni settanta. In coda al brano, una piccola appendice onirica nata in una notte di mix, che all’epoca intitolammo “Come abituarsi ad indossare l’orologio”.

Bergson used to say 
We’re not in the same place in which we believe to be 
Or where we were supposed to be 
Enthusiasm, secret surprise 
For a moment I believed to touch the sky 
Livin’ forever happy 
Then the end of the happiness caught on the wrong side of bed, already dreaming 
I was already dreaming of, I will always be dreaming of you 
Passed, now it’s passed 
But I still can taste that wastement 
And now I’m anxious, weak, depressed 
I should drink a coke, maybe going to bed 
But inside my head, also when I’m dreaming 
I still recall of that 
It’s time warp, time lacks under my feet 
You told me when we were young 
Hidden behind closed doors we sat, we kissed, we hug and softly 
You whispered in my ear please lick my tongue 
I was very scared from the way you moved 
You felt very strange ‘cause you liked me, and me too 
When we were young 
It’s a strange love 
The one between my boyfriend and me, it’s a feeling only for itself



African Savannah

Immagine
Canzone con una genesi molto particolare, si erge idealmente in chiusura a dichiarazione di intenti dell’album intero. Il brano con cui, solitamente, apriamo i nostri concerti. In esso, in maniera più o meno confusa, fanno la loro comparsa i wannabes infantili (una tredicenne emulazione di kobe bryant), i pomeriggi persi, l’impotenza dell’uomo nei confronti del fato, l’eternizzazione del presente a scapito di un futuro ormai inesistente. Ed, infine, le occasioni perse, e che non torneranno mai più.

What does it mean to change the future? If today I begin I'll never end my work. Future never comes 
how can I change it now? Many people think I'm addicted to wasting too time. 
Minutes after minutes I grow old, it's time to change our lives, to take decisions and to say goodbye 
to lies. I want to go to african savannah at least once before I die: (I don't want to die there). 
When I was thirteen I used to think, I used to think that one day I would become as lord of the rings 
(kobe I mean): what does it mean "got milk"? 
What does it mean to change the future? If today I begin I'll never end my work. 
African savannah calls me but i'm still sleeping; african savannah calls me but I always sleep. 
What does it mean to change the future? If today I begin I'll never end my work. 
Future never comes how can I change it now? 
Many people think I will never reach african savannah.



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