Transfusion M & Michael Ferentino have attained the extraordinary, reaching into the past to influence the present and future, with a neo-soul/semi-glam, intrinsic celebration from Dada Drumming, entitled, I Will Skill Again.
I reviewed two tracks from the digital album in August, "Sly Heart" and "Revenge of Sly Heart" and described the singles as cinematic, 1970s funk, the sort of compositions that might accompanying Super Fly, Shaft ... Three the Hard Way, but upon deeper assessment, with a heavy, steamy undercurrent that borders on X-rated.
In this respect, much of the album adheres to that bawdy path, in particular "Three," which feels like a "Revenge of ... " epilogue, slipping into sweaty sheets and culminating in a slow, orgasmic bang.
Otherwise, there's some deviation throughout, as in the title track, "I Will Skill Again," which epitomizes the album's regal, retro aura in what becomes a sociological, if not psychological latch. For this track, Ferentino (in a voice that's smooth yet anguished) channels Marvin Gaye through a Whovian verve, questioning the status quo, while hoping to turn it all around in a scorching spread of wildfire.
"The End of Us" is the arguable, glam rebuttal (if, in fact, Snake Plissken and/or The Duke of New York wrote glam), where Ferentino beats a enforced dead horse, threatening to toss his concerns or in the very least, shuffle them into glitzy, noncommittal pieces, asking to be ignored, even as he demands to be heard.
The same can be said of "Sick," which takes Ferentino's groovy lament to a more specialized sector. In this instance, he "blues" it up, informing a significant other that their relationship has crashed. All he wants is release, and like dear ol' Engelbert Humperdinck, pleads for it, though filtered via high-pitched, Prince Nelson redesign.
Unlike "Sick," "Dramatic" kicks the unrest with a buoyant, fuck-off finality. It's hip-hop-ish, rappy and full of reverberating scorn, while acknowledging what really matters: great songs and the great artists who've composed them. Music is the only anecdote for daily woe, Ferentino explains, with enough impact to exorcise propagandist demons.
"Uncertainty" comes despite this honorable defense. Ferentino is at his most forlorn here, forging a percussive, Bowie-seque/Love in Reverse ambiance that takes the pessimism to taunting, accusatory levels. This is an anthem for every outcast who's ever been crushed by the system. It's a place where one is encouraged to win, even though one has long lost.
Thankfully, "Delicate" balances the despondency, being fun for hipness' sake. In truth, it's a breakdancing pause, a time for taking it easy, to kiss delicate lips, despite the chance of some possible, supernatural, succubus threat. In other words, though the sky may fall, one should enjoy the moment before one's hit.
"Newl" plays this sentiment from the opposite end, the type of track that Angelo Badalamenti may have penned for an urban Twin Peaks: peaceful and nocturnal on the surface, but beneath, menacing enough to summon crack-house/crimewave calamity.
As that calamity intrudes, there's "Slide," a cool, but creepy-crawly resignation that, if only tweaked, could be another "Three." The drawl is tougher, though, and in that toughness, the request for forgiveness spreads, shaken by unappeased, street-smart pronouncements.
And the final pronouncement constitutes unmitigated success. I Will Skill Again is wise, weathered and starry-eyed, snapped by a transcendental, Transfusion devisor, and though his fingerprints are all over it, it's unlike anything else Ferentino has rendered: an ingenious upgrade of old-school styles that tells even the most jaded to boogey forth.
Try the transfusing, retro-jive at
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_kmvQilrpAKBK5vWvGdKwlokz0pqckQ5TE
No comments:
Post a Comment