| | Home / |
| |
Heroin in Tahiti | |
|
|
HEROIN IN TAHITI - CANICOLA
Year: 2016
Record label: Boring Machines
Originally released on tape by NO=FI Recordings, which said about it: aw experiment in "neorealist psychedelia” by spaghetti-wasters Heroin In Tahiti from Rome, "Canicola" is dedicated to the sun, the obsessive superstitions and the golden yellow grain of Italy as portrayed by anthropologist Ernesto De Martino in legendary essays such as “South and Magic” and “The Land of Remorse”. Side A is a long, hallucinatory track which evokes the tyrannic heath and the mourning chants of a Mediterranean summer among ruins, olive trees and abandoned churches. Side B is composed by five short tracks which heavily rely on Italian folklore and include samples of Alan Lomax and Diego Carpitella's field recordings in Southern Italy during the 50s.
|
| |
HEROIN IN TAHITI - SUN AND VIOLENCE
Year: 2015
Record label: Boring Machines
Heroin In Tahiti return with “Sun And Violence”: a new, mammoth double LP which ideally stands for the technicolor version of their “Canicola” cassette, released in 2014 by No=FI Recordings. As with the aforementioned tape, source and inspiration of “Sun And Violence” is Italian folklore and the work of ethnomusicologist Diego Carpitella in Southern Italy during the 50s. This time, Heroin In Tahiti abandon the freaked out approach of the previous release, for an almost prog-infused sequence of psychedelic folk dances, spacey tarantellas, twangy guitars, black market hymns and Joe Meek-style homages to the sinking of Costa Concordia. An epic journey into the abyss of Mediterranean psyche, “Sun And Violence” is easily the most ambitious statement from the authors of “Death Surf”. As Byron Coley put it, talking about their “Peplum” 7 inch: “so inspiring you'll feel like whipping out your camera and making a little movie”. Only this time the movie is HUGE.
|
| |
HEROIN IN TAHITI - DEATH SURF
Year: 2012
Record label: Boring Machines
Inspired by the classic Italian “spaghetti sound” turned into a depressed and paranoid version of the typical twang-surf of Morricone’s scores, “Death Surf” is an hypothetical soundtrack of an old mondo-movie gone bad. The album drags the oppressive heat and bad habits of the Mediterranean to the radioactive beaches of Polynesia, discovering non-existent tribes, invented costumes, misplaced traditions and colonial exoticisms.
Think of drinking a frozen Daiquiri on a solitary beach while watching a poorly tuned TV broadcasting loops of “If You Meet Sartana Pray for Your Death”, while Mururoa tests are happening at the horizon. If this was the soundtrack of the end, it couldn’t be more doped. For fans of music to take drugs to making music and Piero Umiliani's Polinesia.
|
|
| |
| |