Editto Dal Sottoscoglio

It smells of metal, heat, and something too human for war. It was as if a lamp from childhood suddenly turned on inside the military base – the one under which we read science fiction about just revolutions and the brotherhood of stars. The sounds rumble, but not threateningly – more like the bones of an old machine that's still pulling despite the rust. It's like a strange parade: the ruins of empires march, planes circle above them, and somewhere among the radars, a quiet dream of freedom is ripening. The song is like radio interference - disjointed, nervous, but with a clear pulse of hope. And it makes me feel a little ashamed: destruction shouldn't be beautiful. But it's still beautiful. Marco Castello - vocals, classical guitar; Lorenzo Pisoni - bass; Leonardo Varsalona - keyboards; Giuseppe Molinari - drums; Danny Bronzini - electric guitar, backing vocals; Andrea Iurianello - alto saxophone; Stefano Ortisi - tenor saxophone; Pietro Lupo Selvini - baritone saxophone, backing vocals; Sound Engineer: Olmo Giani Sound Engineer: Mario Grimaldi Recorded by: Damiano Festa