I feel I’m nothing at all
The fallout blurs me out
Nostalgia is a survival instinct in an era defined by acceleration. As our days compress and our attention fractures, memory becomes a kind of gravitational refuge,an attempt to anchor meaning while the present outruns comprehension. We revisit past sensations to remember how time once felt inhabitable. In a culture obsessed with velocity, nostalgia offers resistance through reflection, asking us to slow our internal clocks even as the world insists on speed. It is a quiet negotiation between who we were, who we are, and who we fear we might miss becoming.
In the vast calendar of human time, certain numbers gather a gravity beyond arithmetic. Twenty-seven is one of them, forever marked by the infamous 27 Club, where talent, expectation, and abrupt endings have been folded into cultural memory. It is a number burdened with myth and projection, less a milestone than a mirror. With their new single 27, Kodaclips knowingly engage with that weight, releasing the track on January 9th, 2026, via Bronson Recordings, tracing a subtle arc of transformation rather than legend.
The band’s renewed formation (Lorenzo Ricci on guitar, Sonny Sbrighi on bass, Linda Capuano on lead vocals, Francesco Casadei Lelli handling drums and synthesizers, and Samuele Bernardi on guitar) moves with shared purpose. Musically, “27” balances mass and momentum. Guitars rise in layered formations, a steady rhythm advances with patience, and Capuano’s voice travels above it all with measured clarity. Her arrival signals a shift in trajectory, a fresh human frequency threading through structures informed by post-punk’s enduring drive and the softened horizons of shoegaze past and present. Echoes of lineage: Echo & the Bunnymen, Joy Division, Slowdive, Lush, Ride, The Veldt, float through the composition like familiar stars, not as destinations but as reference points in a larger sky.
At its core, the song contemplates velocity and stillness. It listens closely to the anxiety of watching time accelerate, of sensing one’s footing slip while the world rushes ahead. Kodaclips articulate this tension plainly and without ornament. “27 is about standing still as everything else keeps moving faster than you can keep up,” the band explains. “It sits with nostalgia, self-doubt, and the quiet fear that you’re falling behind when even the simplest moments feel unreachable.” The lyric “our days fly by” lands with the weight of an observable truth, familiar to anyone who has measured their life against the clock.
Federico Canducci’s accompanying video extends this meditation into the physical realm. Performance sequences dissolve into forested passages, where a solitary figure searches among trees for something unnamed. The images suggest inquiry rather than resolution, a visual corollary to the song’s sense of suspended arrival.
27 stands as the opening signal of a two-part release planned for early 2026. In this moment, Kodaclips offer a song that watches the universe turn, attentive to how quickly it spins—and to how much courage it takes to pause and look.
Watch the video for “27” below:
Formed in the latter half of 2021 amid the scenic sprawl of Cesena, just inland from Italy’s north Adriatic Coast, Kodaclips was forged from a circle of four friends whose artistic paths converged with shared intent. Drawing from a wide orbit of influences, the band folds psychedelia, stoner rock, and progressive structures into a framework shaped by ’90s sensibilities and the raw emotional pull of post-punk. That foundation is further deepened by an affinity for second-wave shoegaze, particularly the growing italogaze movement.
Self-produced, recorded at Farmhouse Studio in Rimini by Ricci, shaped in the mix by Andrea Volpato in Seattle, and finalized through Manuel Volpe at Okum Produzioni, 27 carries the imprint of many rooms and many hands, aligned across distance.
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