Despite this grey day the sun unveils my way
Despite this grey day the sins clean my way
This grace reflection, that’s all that matter
From the cracked pavements of Bologna’s underground, Caron Dimonio herald Mors Propaganda, their fifth studio album, with songs etched in serrated electronics and skeletal basslines. The trio of Giuseppe Lo Bue, Filippo Scalzo, and Lorenzo Brogi thrives on precision stripped to its core. Roland keys, old Korg grooveboxes, brittle arpeggiators, and warped delay pedals form their arsenal, each device bent toward tension and unease. The result is music pared to the bone, yet alive with fracture and friction.
The album’s first single, Grey, offers an entry point into this distilled world. Lo Bue raided years of notebooks to cut and splice language into fragments, then set them adrift in the mix. Private lament collides with fragments of media noise, political slogans splinter into riddles. The words form less a message than a swarm of signals, corroded until meaning collapses into texture. Gloom is embraced as nourishment, yet amid repetition, a strange grace surfaces, momentary but undeniable.
The accompanying video intensifies the experience: a descent into an underground club rendered like a fevered recollection. Smoke unspools in reverse. Red and pink light drench the frame until recognition erodes. Curious figures blur, dissolve, return as phantoms of themselves. The music follows this logic of distortion. Guitars stab the silence, bass lines stretch until they buckle, synthetic percussion drills forward with merciless insistence. It feels less like performance than excavation. Delay and reverb are used as chisels, stripping excess until only the machinery remains visible. The sound turns ascetic discipline into atmosphere, exposing the scaffold beneath the spectacle.
Grey positions itself at a volatile intersection where decadence, order, and unrest collide. This terrain belongs to a longer Italian lineage, from CCCP’s militant minimalism to Ruth’s detached staccato coldwave, to the fractured noise currents of more experimental artists like Lana Del Rabies and a post-punk backbeat reminiscent of Franz Ferdinand. Caron Dimonio redraw the map with sharp edges and vivid clarity, their austerity transformed into momentum.
Watch the video for “Grey” below:
With Mors Propaganda looming on the horizon, Caron Dimonio teases a work that confronts language, memory, and rhythm at their most unstable, and from that instability builds a world at once fractured and unflinching.
That Caron Dimonio once shared stages with Soviet Soviet, Selofan, and Chameleons’ Vox feels telling: theirs is a lineage of groups who recognise that music is both an escape and an analysis, a weapon as much as an embrace. insists we hear the feedback loop for what it is: a system, humming, waiting to be dismantled.
Listen to Grey below and order the single here.
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